Look At My Middle Finger!

I started having problems with the middle finger on my right hand a few days after our weekend trip to Taxco. It was red and tender just below the fingernail and was starting to swell. I ignored it for a few days thinking it would go away on its own if I kept it clean and didn’t use my right hand too much.

By Thursday, my finger was even more swollen and irritated. Clearly it needed additional attention. That night Vince and I took a walk to a nearby bus station to check the schedule for buses to Tepotzlán, another possible weekend destination. On our way, we passed a pharmacy. I remembered Vince had read that you could request free medical advice at the pharmacies in Mexico. I decided to stop to see if that was true.

When we entered, the attendant at the pharmacy looked at my inflamed finger and immediately asked if I wanted to consult the doctor on site. I agreed, and she directed me to a small room at the back of the pharmacy. The door was open, so I walked in. I couldn’t see anyone at first, so I was startled when I heard a voice behind the door. I peered around and saw a young man staring at me intently.

First impressions are important to me, and I have to admit this young man did not pass the test. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this “doctor” with his punk hairstyle, several wide, tarnished silver rings on his fingers, and thick glasses sliding down his nose made me question his professionalism. The loose lab coat sagging around his slight frame and the array of empty Coca Cola bottles holding down several piles of crumpled notes only added to my uncertainty.

But I needed to do something to alleviate the pain, so I pushed aside my doubts and showed my finger to the doctor. He looked at it briefly and confirmed that it was infected. He thought maybe I had an ingrown nail or I had cut the nail incorrectly which allowed bacteria to enter and infect the tip of my finger. He said he would prescribe an antibiotic and some cream to apply before covering the area with a bandage.

It took several minutes for the doctor to slowly peck my information into his computer, complete the prescription, and print out my copy as well as a copy for the pharmacy. Afterwards, I returned to the front counter to have my prescriptions filled.

Unlike the pharmacies in the U.S., these prescriptions were not submitted to a pharmacist in the back who filled and labeled individual bottles with specific amounts for each person. Instead the attendant looked at the prescriptions and turned around to the shelves behind her to find the appropriate box of medications. When we asked for Band-Aids and some nasal spray, she hurried off to the back room to find our additional items. Meanwhile Vince was surreptitiously taking photos of the cigarettes lined up on the shelf next to the baby formula. We had never seen a pharmacy that sold cigarettes!

We purchased the medications and brought them home, but I didn’t take them right away. I didn’t trust the pharmacy doctor’s diagnosis or prescriptions. Instead, I took a photo of my finger and the prescribed medications and sent an email to my Kaiser doctor in California asking her opinion. The next day she replied saying that it looked like I had an infection or Paronychia, and that I should begin the antibiotics and apply the cream. I did as she instructed and assumed that my finger would be on its way to recovery as soon as the antibiotics kicked in.

Boy, was I wrong! That night I downed a few painkillers before going to bed but the throbbing pain in my finger kept me up most of the night. Early the next morning, I gave up trying to sleep and moved to the couch in the living room. I removed the bandage to see how my finger was doing. The swelling had increased, and now there was a small blackish-purple bump where the redness had been.

I was concerned but not alarmed, thinking that the antibiotics would protect me once they were full strength in my body. Vince and I spent the afternoon shopping in the centro and going out to lunch at a café with a view of the cathedral. I tried to ignore my finger and enjoy the experience.

That night I called the Kaiser advise nurse, told her how my finger was worsening, and asked what I should do. She thought that as long as I didn’t have a fever or other symptoms then it was okay to wait another day to give the antibiotics enough time to start working.

The next day the bump on my finger was bigger and blacker and bearable as long as I took painkillers. We had planned an excursion to Xochicalco, an archaeological site about 45 minutes outside of town. We knew that the museum on site was closed but assumed we could walk among the ruins and explore the area. I thought about staying home while Vince went but decided I needed the distraction.

We climbed into a taxi and enjoyed the conversation in Spanish with the driver. He knew a lot about various towns along the way heading towards Xochicalco. Vince had read about the site ,and we were looking forward to an afternoon outside amongst the ruins. So we were disappointed to discover that everything was closed because of COVID. We weren’t able to enter the site at all.

The afternoon was not entirely lost however. The driver suggested a trip to the Hacienda Buena Vista where we would have a good view of the countryside while eating lunch at an upscale restaurant there. But we weren’t able to do that either. When we arrived, we were told that the restaurant was full and we wouldn’t be able to enter for at least another hour. We decided to return to Cuernavaca instead. Along the way, we drove through a huge open market or tianguis extending for miles on either side of the road. We were amazed at the size of the market and the variety of merchandise being sold. You could buy anything imaginable at the tianguis!

It was early afternoon when we returned to Cuernavaca. We had enough time to take a walk or do some exploring in the city but I was exhausted. My finger had been throbbing all day and I needed some relief. I took another look at my finger. It was still red and swollen, and the black bump looked even bigger. Something had to be done soon. It was time for us to take a trip to the emergency room!

To be continued. . .