I’ve been getting a lot of emails asking about the progress of my leg wound, so I figured I’d give everyone an update while we wait for the next Club Fusion drop.
Apologies for the blurry photo — I was exhausted when Rick changed the dressing last night. Still, you can see the difference between where I started and where I am now. The wound is finally healing. It may not look great to you, but trust me, it is. It just needed some cleanup after removing the dressing. With the progress I’ve made, I’m probably looking at another four to six weeks before full recovery. I can’t begin to tell y’all how happy that makes me because I’m so over this shit.
The entire medical system in the United States is one giant fucking grift — especially when you actually pay your bills. Between the phantom procedures billed to insurance and the Johnny-come-lately invoices that show up six months later from people fifty miles away who somehow claim admitting privileges — it’s insane. The hospital had me for eight damn days and never bothered to remove the necrotic (dead) tissue under anesthesia. Now I find out there’s a newer, less painful ultrasound process that could’ve handled it from the start.
By not removing that dead tissue, they delayed my recovery by four months — but they sure as hell made sure to collect all those insurance payments for “ongoing treatment.” Their method was using medical-grade honey for debridement, which was fucking painful. On top of that, they were so stingy with the tubes I needed for home dressing changes, and insurance would only pay for one tube a month. I started wondering if this was worth the misery. Finally, in month four, I swiped a few extra tubes when they left the room and slathered that shit on thick. Much to their surprise, on my next visit, the dead skin slipped right off without them needing to cut into me with a scalpel.
Next thing I know, they’re emphatically claiming I had an infection — which I knew damn well I didn’t. They demanded I go back to the ER for another eight-day stay so the hospital could rack up more insurance money. I refused. My compromise was that they could take a sample, and if the results came back positive, I’d do outpatient drip therapy instead of wasting another week sitting in a hospital bed while they pumped me full of every antibiotic under the sun. The first stay destroyed my gut health and had me crapping myself for weeks — I wasn’t doing that again.
I didn’t wait for their “results.” I had an appointment with my regular doctor in Atlanta, who accessed the labs and confirmed what I already knew — no infection. To play it safe, he put me on a seven-day oral antibiotic and that was that.
I won’t even go into the unproven, outrageously expensive bullshit procedures they kept pushing. I research everything they tell me, and I always bring receipts. Eventually, my Gen Z nurse practitioner refused to let her assistant leave the room because she “didn’t feel safe.” Apparently, being told “NO” is a trigger for her generation. Ironically, the minute she was done debriding the wound, she walked out and left her assistant behind to bandage me anyway.
Things really fell apart when they started overbooking appointments. I’d wait an hour and a half just to get into a room and another forty-five minutes before anyone showed up. After a couple of rounds of that crap, I canceled everything and switched to a mobile wound clinic that comes to me. Miraculously, skin growth started immediately. I dumped the hospital wound clinic, the incompetent vascular doctor, and his useless staff and replaced them all with people who actually know what the hell they’re doing.
I genuinely feel bad for anyone who can’t advocate for themselves, but don’t gaslight me by telling me it’s raining while you’re pissing down my leg. I’m blunt, and if the current crop of “professionals” can’t handle that, fuck ’em. I don’t have time for fragile egos or “safe spaces.” I’m the patient and the paying customer. I expect competence, honesty, and straight talk — not snake oil sales pitches for procedures with zero credible studies behind them.
Ten thousand dollars later, this is where I’m at — finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I want to thank everyone who’s sent kind words and support.
In other news, HW25 is being pushed into next week, but I can assure you, it will be worth the wait. I’m having to go back and edit myself, while some great new promos keep rolling in. Nevertheless, I promise to drop it on Friday this week.
Until the next time…ENJOY!
