Larry Bucket is one of the featured characters in the cartoon “Buckets”. Larry and I have something in common, my wife is a school nurse, and his wife was once a school nurse. Sometimes, I feel like Larry Bucket. In the cartoon strip, see image below, Larry has asked his wife what could be wrong with his leg. His wife, as a wife will sometimes do, asks rather sarcastically how she should know. Larry points out that she was a school nurse. She then says, she will get him all fixed up and calls his parents. I pointed this cartoon out to my wife, and she loved it so much she took it to school to show coworkers.
As the days go on, Larry’s wife had reason to be concerned and may now wish that she was not so flippant—for Larry ends up in the hospital with blood clots. Blood clots can be deadly. Several days later (real time and comic strip time) he is still in the hospital. I pointed some of the following strips out to my wife, and with her fastidious nature she pointed out that some of what was occurring was not likely, from a medical standpoint, to occur. Recently, about a week after having received a cut while working in the garden and doing yard work, a large red area appeared at the cut area. About an inch or more in diameter, with some mounding at the wound site, I was generally ignoring it, until my son commented on it during his short Mother’s Day visit. Later in the morning my wife looked at the sore, marked its extent on my leg with a magic marker, and indicated that some heat should be put on the wound. At varied times through a cloudy and cool Mother’s Day I sat with my leg up and first a warm moist compress, and then simply heat without the moisture. Looking at the wound in the latter part of the afternoon, my live-in nurse had me squeeze the wound to see what happened. Some puss followed by a sliver came out. Of course, being the nurse that she is she had to squeeze it herself, and squeeze she did, with much greater emphasis than my squeeze. I then put some hydrogen peroxide, waited until it dried and placed a band aid with antibiotic ointment on the wound.
The next morning I asked her to take a look at the wound. She noted that she would look at it again at the end of the day when I arrived home from work. As the old sexist saying goes, it is a women’s prerogative to change her mind, and she quickly did so. She instead suggested that I call and see if I can be seen that day. Now, she wanted to avoid a trip to the ER late in the day if it looked bad, but I really think she was thinking of Larry Bucket. Unlike Larry both of my parents are deceased, so no call can be made to them. Instead she is the first point of contact, and she likely realized unlike Larry’s wife who could call his parents, she would have to call herself. Try to imagine that conversation. To my surprise I received an appointment in the first part of the morning. A culture was taken and prescription provided. After two doses that day, the next morning the wound looked more purple to me, but my wife looked pleased about how the treatment was coming along. The best part is that the PA that saw me had worked with my spouse at Meriter Hospital. I explained what my nurse-wife told me to do—heat and raised leg, and said she was a nurse who worked had worked with him at Meriter. He then knew who I was talking about. He told me what medicine he was prescribing, to keep a band aid, although no time frame. Why no time frame? Well, he made this comment: "have Toni look at it a couple times a day, I trust her judgement."
As Larry Bucket sits in a hospital bed as the medical staff tries to dissolve blood clots in his body, I can sit at home and type this blog post. While my wife is a school nurse, as Larry’s wife was, they each took two different approaches. Regardless of what my wife says, I still think she had me call the doctor’s office to avoid having to call herself.
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| "Buckets" Comic Strip, from the WI State Journal |
As the days go on, Larry’s wife had reason to be concerned and may now wish that she was not so flippant—for Larry ends up in the hospital with blood clots. Blood clots can be deadly. Several days later (real time and comic strip time) he is still in the hospital. I pointed some of the following strips out to my wife, and with her fastidious nature she pointed out that some of what was occurring was not likely, from a medical standpoint, to occur. Recently, about a week after having received a cut while working in the garden and doing yard work, a large red area appeared at the cut area. About an inch or more in diameter, with some mounding at the wound site, I was generally ignoring it, until my son commented on it during his short Mother’s Day visit. Later in the morning my wife looked at the sore, marked its extent on my leg with a magic marker, and indicated that some heat should be put on the wound. At varied times through a cloudy and cool Mother’s Day I sat with my leg up and first a warm moist compress, and then simply heat without the moisture. Looking at the wound in the latter part of the afternoon, my live-in nurse had me squeeze the wound to see what happened. Some puss followed by a sliver came out. Of course, being the nurse that she is she had to squeeze it herself, and squeeze she did, with much greater emphasis than my squeeze. I then put some hydrogen peroxide, waited until it dried and placed a band aid with antibiotic ointment on the wound.
The next morning I asked her to take a look at the wound. She noted that she would look at it again at the end of the day when I arrived home from work. As the old sexist saying goes, it is a women’s prerogative to change her mind, and she quickly did so. She instead suggested that I call and see if I can be seen that day. Now, she wanted to avoid a trip to the ER late in the day if it looked bad, but I really think she was thinking of Larry Bucket. Unlike Larry both of my parents are deceased, so no call can be made to them. Instead she is the first point of contact, and she likely realized unlike Larry’s wife who could call his parents, she would have to call herself. Try to imagine that conversation. To my surprise I received an appointment in the first part of the morning. A culture was taken and prescription provided. After two doses that day, the next morning the wound looked more purple to me, but my wife looked pleased about how the treatment was coming along. The best part is that the PA that saw me had worked with my spouse at Meriter Hospital. I explained what my nurse-wife told me to do—heat and raised leg, and said she was a nurse who worked had worked with him at Meriter. He then knew who I was talking about. He told me what medicine he was prescribing, to keep a band aid, although no time frame. Why no time frame? Well, he made this comment: "have Toni look at it a couple times a day, I trust her judgement."
As Larry Bucket sits in a hospital bed as the medical staff tries to dissolve blood clots in his body, I can sit at home and type this blog post. While my wife is a school nurse, as Larry’s wife was, they each took two different approaches. Regardless of what my wife says, I still think she had me call the doctor’s office to avoid having to call herself.
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