From Data Forum to Emergency Surgery: A Few Days I’ll Never Forget.

Adam Mico
8 min readSep 8, 2024
Credit | Photos (Clockwise): Data Forum on September 4th, the moment right after I knew I was being discharged on September 7th, post-op swollen hand at 4:06 AM on September 8th, and an image showing approximately 30% of my bloodwork (the rest was done via IV on my other arm).

What a soul-shattering yet soul-igniting few days it has been. Daily updates on the bottom.

Despite only getting three hours of sleep Tuesday night, I had a blast at Annabelle Rincon and Garrett Sauls’ Data Forum (“Enable Me”) on Wednesday. I knew the Tableau Ambassador announcement was coming soon, marking my fifth term as a Tableau Ambassador. I was excited to see many from #TableauNext likely being recognized and hoped longtime contributors would finally get the nod they deserved this year (and many did!).

Here are the “Data Forum” video links: Interworks and Annabelle Rincon on YouTube. If you haven't already, subscribe to both!

Then came Thursday morning. At 2 AM, I woke up to wrist pain — annoying at first, but it progressively worsened. 31 years ago, I had surgery on that wrist, and there’s still a screw in there. By 5:30 AM, after taking 750 mg of Tylenol and 375 mg of Advil, it felt like someone had hit my wrist with a hammer. I’ve experienced broken bones before, but usually, once immobilized and medicated, the pain subsides. This didn’t. I figured I must have rolled on it in my sleep and maybe broke something. With the OK to head to the hospital, I went in.

I was in the ER more than nine hours, and after five in the ER and pain meds escalating to become more potent than morphine, nothing relieved the pain and my wrist was swelling. At that point, they eventually extracted pus from my wrist joint (to test and relieve some of the pressure) — a procedure that ramped the pain up to an 11 but brought it down to a manageable 7–8 afterward. They brought the pus to the lab where the doctors discovered pseudogout with unusual fluid and infection markers. Despite no visible bacteria, my White Blood Cell (WBC) count was over 175,000 — more than 3.5 times the marker threshold for a septic arthritic joint. For context, an average count would be around 100 for a typical joint. This news scared me. It was explained to me that it could mean losing a limb or worse without immediate surgery, and I was absolutely unprepared for that. The deciding doctor was operating on a separate patient. Still, I was on the operating table within two hours of the lab result as it was considered an emergency surgery (with sepsis being imminent given the rate of infection). The worst part? There was no way to prevent this. All things combined, it was a freak occurrence — something that happens to very few, if anyone at all, yet it happened to me.

Besides talking to my family, I leaned on Annabelle often during this time. If things took a turn for the worse, I needed someone I trusted to pass the word along and also put things in context, and I was in too much pain to communicate with multiple people in our #DataFam at the time.

A couple of hours later, I underwent surgery to clear out the infected cells. Despite a significant incision and flushing my wrist with nine liters of fluid, the post-op pain dropped to a 3–6 range, which was a massive relief.

As soon as I felt well enough, I shared the Tableau Ambassador announcement with the #DataFam. They’re like an extension of my family, and it was an efficient way to update everyone without sending 400 individual messages. Years ago, I would have been mortified to share something this personal so publicly, but now, being authentic and sharing both the good and the bad (while respecting the confidentiality of others) feels like the healthiest choice for me. It’s not for everyone, but it works for me.

What I learned afterward was that my case was highly unusual. The onset of pain, the exceptionally high WBC count, and the additional strange pus that wasn’t yielding known bacteria — all of it was very rare. I was being pumped with super potent IV antibiotics around the clock, enough to kill any bacteria I’d ever come in contact with.

By Saturday, there was talk of continued hospitalization through Monday, with the potential of being released on home IV antibiotics. That news was frightening. The antibiotics were making me feel terrible, and I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. However, after more tests and consultations with an infectious disease specialist, they decided to send me home without further antibiotics, as they believed the intense course I’d already received would have wiped out any infection. No specified bacteria was uncovered, although they had plenty to sample from.

I’m writing this blog early Sunday at 3:00 AM, after waking up at 2:30 AM. I passed out at 6 PM the night before, knowing I needed to manage my sleep, even though I’m still not fully recovered. The pain in my wrist this morning is around a 4–5, which is expected post-op. At 4:06 AM, I took photos of my still-swollen hand and the track marks from the countless blood tests (about 30% of them, since most were done via IV on my left arm).

I’ve got a long road ahead. There will be more visits to specialists that may uncover more things, I am on necessary meds with unpleasant side effects to prevent future like issues, and I may need to have the ancient screw removed from my wrist. I had planned to visit my granddaughter, grandmother, and son, but I’ve had to postpone for my own care and in case of any emergency with this issue. Still, I’m incredibly grateful for the support of so many friends, the remarkable staff at Tufts Medical Center (who were patient with me at my most exhausted and pained + creative with solutions to provide relief), and the understanding of my employer, who has been accommodating during what has been my worst health year yet. Hopefully, this rough patch will buy me ten years of excellent health as a tradeoff. It definitely did scare me to a health kick.

I know what people are thinking — REST, ADAM! Yes, I will relax but needed to share this 1st. Hundreds of people from home, #datafam, and work have reached out. Taking care of this now will save me a ton of time in the future as I can just point people here rather than retell the story so many times. Thank you for reading, and caring.

Updates

This is the section where I will cover daily morning updates.

Monday morning | September 9th

The swelling is beginning to reduce noticeably. Last night’s rest was decent, totaling around 7 hours of sleep. I’m experiencing consistent side effects from the medication, but they are expected and manageable. The pain level ranges from 3 to 6, primarily between 3 and 4, with occasional spikes to 5 or 6. The pain is mostly a dull ache with intermittent throbbing, particularly noticeable in the scaphoid. Aside from the reduced swelling and improved rest, I feel similar to how I did when I left the hospital. I have a virtual appointment with my primary care physician this afternoon. I will be able to change out of this wrap today. Yesterday, there was no significant change in how I felt, except for the extra rest compared to my last day in the hospital.

Tuesday morning | September 10th

It’s been an emotional day. Since the surgery, my blood pressure has increased by 20–30 points diastolic and 10–15 points systolic. While the spike should be temporary, it’s currently high enough to put me firmly in the Stage 2 hypertension range, meaning I’ll need to take temporary blood pressure medication. On top of that, it’s tough for me to scale back on work and activities because I’m so driven by my mission, impact, support, and fear of missing out (FOMO).

I removed the brace, rebandaged my hand, and saw the stitches and the extent of the swelling. It still looks serious, but the swelling slowly goes down from a fully inflated balloon-like hand to something slightly deflated. Unfortunately, I’m experiencing the same wrist pain and frequent stomach issues as before.

I do not usually cry, but I had a good cry today. I reflected on the whole experience — how close I came to severe and permanent damage, how many people truly care about me, and how this incident, though beyond my control, has been a major wake-up call. I’m taking it seriously and will start seeing a dietician to become the healthiest version of myself.

Wednesday morning | September 11th

Credit | Adam Mico from early evening on September 10th. My hand is discolored due to bruising. The gauze wrap is to cover and protect my surgical incision—I would most definitely prefer not to see it.

The swelling in my right hand has gone down, but the pain is worse due to extensive bruising. The swelling seemed to shield me from some of that pain, but that extent of swelling can result in more issues that I prefer not to deal with. The pain puts me at a resting 4–5 on the pain scale, but that is something I can work with, especially with ice and fewer spikes of pain from my scaphoid and across my wrist.

Credit | Adam Mico from the morning of September 9th after removing the temporary cast (cropped to omit the gruesome surgical scarring)
Credit: Adam Mico | Here is the standard position of my wrist since Monday. I have four hot/cold gel packs (with three in the freezer). I am effectively freezing my hand to reduce swelling and pain, and it will work this way, at least for the remainder of this week, as I return to work part-time tomorrow.

I’ve been icing it during all waking hours since removing the brace. My blood pressure medication has lowered my blood pressure to reasonable levels, providing some mental relief. I’ve scheduled specialist appointments: a hand surgeon on the 18th to determine if surgery is needed to remove the screw and a rheumatologist on October 1st. I will schedule a dietician appointment on September 23rd.

Thursday morning | September 12th

This piece will be my last update because I am too frustrated to talk about it. My blood pressure shot to ridiculous levels after three tests on two devices coupled with fatigue that prompted my 1st ambulance ride. Although not on the discharge paperwork, I strongly feel the culprit is Colchicine and how my body reacts to it. I have more rest in my future to heal and I am optimistic, but tired and frustrated. Thank you to the many who have supported me and helped me face this head on. Love you all. Please keep those love bombs coming.

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Adam Mico

Data Visualization and Enablement Leader | Data Leadership Collaborative Advisory Board Member | Tableau Visionary + Ambassador | Views are my own