Well I have been thru a titanic struggle the past few days and am happy to inform you that the enemy is now in the throes of death. For those who did not know I had/have MRSA. It is now under control and I am well on my way down the road to recovery.
I first noticed this spot in the back of my leg on not this past Tuesday but the one previously while working. Not thinking it was anything I continued working thru the week but by the time Friday rolled around it was big enough to be causing me a good amount of pain. I came home that night determined to try my hand at surgery(still not knowing what it was) and the family doctor(my sweet mother) convinced me to get it checked out by the professionals in the white lab coats(otherwise known as the white-coated mafia).
Well, I went on in Saturday morning to a small clinic near our house where they, after checking me out, told me I had a staph infection and that, ‘No, it was not fatal’. Then they proceeded to take a machete(at least it looked like that) and lance the, for lack of a better term, gigantically huge monstrosity growing on the back of my leg. They didn’t even give me a bullet to bite. After taking their time squeezing, poking and prodding my poor, sensitive leg they filled the abscess with a guaze-like material, wrapped me up, gave me some antibiotics and released me to go on my not so merry way.
It turned out that the antibiotics they gave me just were not cutting it. The infection continued to spread. By this time I had gained a new nickname(self-given), Gimpy. Usually I am very active and so to look around at all these people running around or at least walking normally was a mental torture not unlike the chinese water method. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Sunday evening we again made contact with the Doctor and upon hearing my temperature and pulse he said I needed to go straight to the emergency room. I had developed a slight fever at this point. So into the car and off to the ER we went. While being processed the nurses were doing their best to convince me everything was fine but I could sense their malevolent intent. Once a man came in with a needle and I could almost swear that he was about to tatoo a number on my forearm but I was staring at him so intently he backed off.
Well, they soon had me processed and whisked me up to my room(in a wheelchair!). I was placed under solitary confinement. They had me on the IV and were pumping me full of antibiotics and fluids at this point. My arms are still marked with the scars of their needles. Some of my blood was taken for the purpose of determining what type of staph infection this was. All thru this arduous ordeal I had been hearing a name whispered in the shadows around me. A few had approached me and warned me of the dreaded infection MRSA. It is to the best of my knowledge a strain of staph that has mutated to the point where most antibiotics do not affect it. Though I came to the hospital on Sunday it was not until Tuesday morning that results came back and it was clear that i was indeed infected with the dreaded MRSA!!! However the antibiotics they had been giving me were those that would treat both the non-resistant and resistant strains of staph so they decided to release me later on that day.
So it is now sunday and life is going fine. I still have a little limp but the swelling is way down(my leg no longer looks like an elephant’s leg) and the infection is I think basically cleared up. All that is left is for the wound to heal and then all will be well.
So I have survived aforementioned titanic struggle and leave these memoirs as a warning to all who come down this road after me. WARNING!!! Speedbumps ahead!!!