My husband now calls me a backstabber.
I guess the story begins a year or two ago when we noticed a little bump on my husband’s back. We didn’t think much of it until it began to cause problems just as Covid-19 was beginning to pick up in South Asia.
A week before lockdown, my husband said the bump on his back felt sore and was bothering him. Being the caring wife I am, I immediately felt sympathetic and reassured him we would get through whatever it was together. Ummm… just kidding. That’s what I wish I would have done. But instead, I said, “Are you sure? It doesn’t look any different.” Well, that was not my best wife moment and I happened to be one-hundred percent wrong.
Within a few days, it was red and sore and getting bigger by the day. I began texting several friends & family who are nurses to ask what we should do. We took a trip to the Chemist (aka: Pharmacist) and he started taking antibiotics, which cost a whopping $2 in USD. Nothing happened. Actually it kept getting worse. He couldn’t lay back comfortably and it had grown to about 2 inches by 2 inches. Ouch!
Despite me texting everyone I could think of, we still didn’t have anyone here in our city who could really help us. We knew it was some sort of cyst and needed to be drained but I wasn’t too thrilled about trying it myself. Our city was put on strict lockdown orders and we weren’t sure where we could even go.
Friday morning we woke up and said, “Today is the day we are taking care of this cyst.”
Called my Language Teacher: I called my language teacher and told her I needed to cancel class. She was so gracious and even spent a few minutes teaching me words I might need to know when we went to the hospital. Words like incision, swollen, and cyst.
Met a PA: By God’s grace, a friend of a friend connected us to someone else in South Asia that morning who was from the States and is actually a Physicians Assistant. This stranger who became a fast friend knew exactly what was on my husband’s back and had even drained and stitched patients back up before with this type of cyst. what? Amazing! We began to refer to her as Doctor J and were amazed that she immediately knew that this was a sebaceous cyst, a common non-cancerous cyst that can become infected, inflamed, and painful.
Attempted Draining it with a Needle: Since my mom is a nurse and she texted in the middle of her night (from the States), I asked if she could guide me through draining the cyst. I attempted this with a needle, after sterilizing it of course, but it simply wasn’t opening anything up. It also wasn’t very sharp which caused my husband more pain. My mom was a tremendous help via FaceTime but nothing really seemed to work.
Attempted going to the hospital: We put on our N95 masks, grabbed our passports, and hopped in the car to drive to the nearest hospital. We had to drive through one of the main markets and go past a police checkpoint. They asked where we were going and hardly believed we were going to the hospital. My husband was about to prove to them by lifting up his shirt but they finally let us drive on. Once, we got to the hospital we noticed a huge sign out front that said “Covid Patients.” It took us three tries to find the entrance since nothing was marked. Finally my husband was allowed to go into one of the buildings while I waited outside in the rain. After three minutes he came back reporting that several doctors where all playing on their phones in one room and when he asked if they could simply drain his wound, they said, “No, you will have to go to another hospital. We only take the Covid patients.”
Doctor J’s idea & pep talk: Well, that was our first and last attempt at having a real doctor take care of the cyst. I texted Doctor J who then asked if I had an exacto knife. Actually, I did! Robby helped me put up stick-on wallpaper in our kitchen several months ago. Little did we know, it wouldn’t just come in handy for crafts and things but for medical purposes too. I told Doctor J my fears of draining it myself and accidentally going too deep, injuring his spine, and paralyzing him or something. Eek! She reassured me that she would guide me through the whole thing and that it would be fine.
Stock up on Antibiotics: Before we drove back home, Doctor J told us to stop by the Chemist to get Cephalexin, a strong antibiotic. It’s pretty convenient how you can buy almost any medicine over here without a prescription.
I put a new blade on the exacto knife
pulled back my hair
opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol
set up a pile of gauze, q-tips, and tube of triple antibiotic ointment
covered the bed
put on a mask and gloves
and FaceTimed Doctor J
The “procedure”: Both my husband and I were nervous but I came to terms with the fact that I had to do this. There was no other option and I was happy to help my husband who had a cyst that was looking worse by the day. Doctor J, was fantastic. She talked me through it, told me how deep and where to stick the exacto knife, which basically looked like a scalpel. I think I counted to three and then stuck the knife straight down and back up. After realizing I didn’t open anything up, I had to do it one more time and go a little deeper. My husband just laid there on the bed like a total champ, not saying a word. Since I was essentially puncturing a pocket of pus, he said it didn’t hurt that bad. whew!
The drain: Then the flood gates were opened! With some tips and guidance from Doctor J, I simply had to put my pointer finger on one side of the cyst and my middle finger on the other and then push down, not using a down and up motion. Thank the Lord, I am not a person who usually gets queazy. A lot came out and it didn’t smell like perfume either. (I’ll spare you from seeing any photos of this part.)
& drain & drain & drain: I didn’t ever have to re-stab my husband but it took an entire week of me pressing on the sides of the cyst every day to get all the pus out. It was kind of a gratifying process when more would come out and literally the cyst would decrease in size in minutes. Every day, I put ointment on it and bandaged it with gauze and medical tape.
On Friday, after the initial drain was over, we made fried chicken, imitation chick-fil-a sauce and thanked God for how he had provided literally everything we needed that day, from a physicians assistant on FaceTime to a fancy knife in our craft closet.