I’ve been thinking about people who have lost a leg and how hard they have to work to do even small things, and today I’m also thinking about Henry VIII, who suffered for many years with a jousting wound that never healed properly.
After showering, I took off the dressing; the odor was horrible, like nothing I’ve smelled before.
The wound had been oozing, and I think the awful smell was from dead skin. I cleaned it as well as I could. Ron brought in an alcohol solution, gauze pads and tape.
We applied antiseptic, applied new bandages, taped everything securely and put on a clean hospital sock.
I’m appalled that no one warned me to look for this.