Tuesday, July 6, 2010

MRSA We Hate You

So I've officially learned a life lesson about germs: they're tricky invasive motherfuckers and they don't care that your in top health because they're coming for YOU.

Last Tuesday I was out putting metal greate stuff on our side gate because my sister has a small puppy who likes to slide between the bars and roll on our neighbors lawns. He also likes to feign being deaf to get out of having to come home when you call him. In essence I was puppy-proofing our side gate and to do this I sat on the ground Indian style, all the while Rory, the puppy, is in my lap because i have to partially hold him to keep him from going through the bars and if I put him in the house while I worked he would whine like an animal in the throes of agonizing death and poop all over the place. (This puppy poops every time it feels under duress which is really very anoying because he is one touchy puppy.)

Anywho, I'm slowly working along puppy in lap... (did I mention that I'm not home alone at this point? My sister, the one who owns the dog but does nothing for it sleeps in to about 12:00 each day and so was unable to watch the little runt while I worked.) and I get bit about three times by some nasty bugs that look like a spider pill bug hybrid of some sort. The two on my lower back were a little inflamed looking but otherwise fine. The one on my right wrist went from inflamed to "Oh my fucking God I have a growth forming" somewhere between Thursday and Saturday.
Saturday we went in to urgent care (my mother and I) and a nurse stabbed me with a needle at the point of infection three times and squeezed the crap out of me to get a small sample after supposedly numbing me. She was dead sure it was MRSA because she had seen it a lot this summer in the area and it can spread throughout a community very quickly. So she gives me an appointment to see her Wednesday. I got a prescription for sulfameth/trimethoprim which can give some people nausea, dizziness, joint pain and a few other bad side effects. I merrily started experiencing all of these side effects, paired with some dehydration and with my arm only worsening.

The fourth of July cam and went with no celebration at the Nuckolls household. No, we did nothing because we had to stay home to keep the puppy from freaking out over his first experience of fireworks. For a dog that barks full volume at the slightest sound he actually took it pretty well.

Monday we went back to urgent care and saw an actual doctor, got an antibiotic shot in my rump and got my infected arm sliced open and drained. The doctor asked me at the beginning if I wanted to watch and I told her no. Maybe thirty second into the agonizing pain and she's telling me to look at how much she's getting out as my mother "ooh's" "ah's" and makes that that sound that everyone makes when they see a painful injury or accident, you know that fast inhale through the back of you teeth.

I turn away again only to be drawn back to looking every time my mother comments over an extra large about of yellow and green snotty slime shooting forth from my bulb. I'm going from bad to worse and starting to get the shakes with my nausea, from those damn antibiotics that didn't work and the current shock to my system.

Herr doctor then sends me on my way to the waiting room while she fills out a new prescription. She tells my mother and I to wait in the waiting room out front for fifteen minutes to make sure that the antibiotic shot she gave me doesn't make me go into anaphylactic shock...
Two minutes pass with my mother and I in the waiting room, my dizzy as a top, and my mom asks if I'm ready to go. I repeat that the doctor told us to wait. She agrees and says that another five minutes should do it and I realize that my mother's internal clock is running way fast when another two minutes pass and she decides it's safe to leave.

to be continued...mostly because my arm and back are sore.

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