My Left Leg

If there is one part of my body that has consistently betrayed me throughout my adult life, it has been my left leg. (Another part of my body that has consistently betrayed me is my mouth, but that's a whole 'nother story.)

I am finally recovering from a miserable week laid up at home with an attack of cellulitis in that traitorous left leg. It started with an initial bout of chills, shivering, shaking, massive headache and nausea that, while it did not make me wish for death, I considered it possible it might be coming, anyway. The next night the chills were replaced by feverish sweating, though the headache persisted. Finally, 40 hours after it started, on Monday afternoon I left the bed and gingerly stepped downstairs. Spent a couple of hours sitting in a comfy chair, then went back to bed.

On Tuesday, I felt better ("better" being a relative term), so I went in to work. Big mistake. Felt lousy, wasn't exactly productive. My boss convinced me that the massive federal bureaucracy would grind on without me for a few days. Wednesday, did what I should have done immediately -- went to the doctor. Got good antibiotics. Improvement rate raised dramatically. Now, on Friday, I really do feel well enough to work. We'll call it my spring vacation.

This is not the first time I've been hit with cellulitis, and it's always been my left leg (though one time, I seem to recall, it was both legs. That was less fun than usual.) The first two times it put me in the hospital, and now I managed to get through it (perhaps stupidly) without in-patient care.

The first time was the most fun, as I wasn't home. I was in Las Vegas, with Louise. The way I remember it, some GAMA folks were headed out there to tour the facilities and negotiate with the convention staff of the Orleans, and word went out on the Secret Masters Of Gaming grapevine that a gaming weekend could be had, as the eager-to-please hotel staff had some unused function space that they could set up a bunch of tables of chairs in and turn us loose. I seem to remember about 40 people showed up, games were played, fun was had, and the Orleans and GAMA had a nice successful run at trade show hosting for around 10 years or so. It was a great time, until I got hit with the infection in the middle of our last night there. I could barely walk, much less pack up and lug our stuff down to checkout and to the airport. Fortunately, the worst of it broke while we were sitting in the airport waiting for our flight. Then it was home, and the next day, the hospital.

But my left leg has not been willing to settle for just a severe infection that hits without warning every few years or so. No, this was also the leg that got mashed up good in our 2005 car accident, causing two operations and months of follow-up treatment. I still have a very impressive scar. No wonder my left leg doesn't like me.