back from the ER

I didn't visit the ER last night despite a halfhearted try. I stood out in the rain, waiting for a taxi. They usually run by my place fairly often, but it was close to 10 p.m., so it might just have been a dry hour for taxis (although I've seen plenty of taxis on that street at that hour), and it was also Chuseok night. I took out my phone and tried to use the Kakao Taxi app to call a taxi, but the rain on my touch screen made the screen go nuts, and I was looking for an excuse to go back into my building anyway, so I retreated for the night, resolving to hit the ER during the day on Tuesday. Which is what I ended up doing.

Getting a taxi today was no big deal during the daytime, and I scooted less than a kilometer up the road to Samsung Seoul Hospital, where they (the nebulous "they") know me well. I arrived about 11:50 a.m.; there were only a few people in the ER's entranceway, where a row of chairs had been placed for patients to wait after they'd had a chance to fill out an intake form and hand over their ID card for verification. I got examined by a frazzled-looking doc (I think he was a doc; he might've been a male nurse) who took my vitals and spoke to me in a mix of English and Korean. I showed him cell-phone photos of my infection and explained the history of my two toe wounds, one of which my readers are familiar with, the other of which is a more recent thing. After the doc had had a chance to look at my photos and then to look at the wounds directly, he sent me back into the hallway to wait. A male nurse came by some time later and led me to a side room. There, I saw my name on a "take a number" monitor. A female nurse came in; I got a wristband, which alarmed me at first because I thought they might be admitting me into the hospital as an inpatient, but no one said anything about admitting me: once I'd been wristbanded, I was led to a different exam room. Another nurse looked at my toe wounds and asked me about their history; she too spoke in a mix of Korean and English. While my shoe and sock were off and my toe was still exposed, she told me the likely procedure would be to get a culture, dress my toe, give me a prescription for antibiotics, then invite me back in a few days to check on my progress. The nurse said that the lack of pus in the wound meant that getting a culture would be difficult. She then left.

I waited about an hour before a male nurse came in, quickly examined my toe, and asked if I'd had the culture done. I said no—there'd been no one since the female nurse. He left, too, then he came back maybe twenty minutes later with someone else in tow, and he took a swab of my wounds before slathering iodine on my toe and dressing it again. He told me where to go pay and get my prescription. With all of these people so briskly coming and going, I couldn't say "Happy Chuseok" to anyone until right as I was leaving. I found the desk where I had to pay and receive my prescription sheet; the girl behind the counter told be to go down to the B2 level of the main building (just outside another heavy, metal door) to find the pharmacy where I'd receive my meds, which were already paid for (that's not how it usually works for me on my regular checkup visits—meds are a separate payment). I went to the main building, then down to B2, and walked through a network of very sterile-looking, white hallways that reminded me of death's anteroom until I found the bleak-look pharmacy in question. It was just a window in a wall, and a sign said to push the button for service, so I did. Another sprightly young lady took my prescription sheet, tore off a crucial corner, and went to find my meds. She, too, spoke to me in a mix of Korean and English, advising me that I had five days' worth of antibiotics, and that I should take them after breakfast, once per day, without fail (빠짐 없이/bbajim eopshi). I was tempted to salute her.

Although Samsung Hospital is, in its own weird way, a fairly organized place, it moves at a fairly glacial pace, which is another reason why I was hesitant to visit the ER, and today was definitely a slow day. The last time I'd had a toe infection, it was during the strict COVID protocols, and because I'd had a fever at the time, I had to wait outside for several hours before they'd take me. This time, I didn't have to wait that long, but there was still a full hour during which I sat on a cushioned exam table like an idiot, one foot bare and exposed, while I passively waited for someone—anyone—to see me.

But all in all, the visit went about as I'd thought it would. I'm supposed to visit Samsung's infection clinic on the 16th. I have enough meds for four more days (I took my first dose as soon as I got back to my place), so I think the idea is to see whether this is a drug-resistant strain of Pseudomonas or a less virulent strain; I think they deliberately gave me only enough meds for a few days so that, if it's a virulent strain, the infection will come back over the remaining time. I think they're all morbidly waiting for the infection to worsen and start oozing pus so they can finally get the cultures they'd originally wanted (cultures also take a few days to produce results). As things were, they had to make do with a superficial swab for something called a "Gram stain." I hope they got what they needed from my toe, and I hope they confirm it's Pseudomonas.

So: arrived a bit before noon; out a little after 2:00 p.m.

And here's what you've all been waiting for: pictures of the green stuff!

Sunday, October 5. The green was disconcerting.

Pseudomonas is "classically" green, the AI god says.

October 6.

Today, October 7. Happy post-Chuseok!

As you see, there's been no real progress over three days, and all of those pics are from before I went to the hospital today. I hope we've nailed this thing before it's had a chance to begin working its evil work in earnest.