Start the day off with some Rifampin and Minocycline on an empty stomach.
Stand in the shower for 15-20 minutes while the Hibiclens covers my body. Wash it off with Dove soap. Put the towel in the hamper... never re-use them. Spray empty hamper with lysol every day, and bleach it out weekly or more often.
Follow that up with a swab of bactraban up the nasal passages.
Put bactraban on wounded areas.
Apply Talclonex to my elbows and hands where what we think is psoriasis has started up.
Cover all of the MRSA wounds.
Wait an hour before having breakfast. Wash my hands. Eat breakfast. Wash dishes. Clean sink and counter thoroughly. Wash my hands again.
Go about my business then repeat most of these steps later in the day.
Take a swig of the Chlorhexidine oral rinse I was prescribed, and expectorate.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
COMPLICATIONS and THE QUIET PHONE
MORE COMPLICATIONS
Today, I had to see the dermatologist. I have what appears to be psoriasis on my elbows and some of the joints on my hands. He wants me to start using a topical ointment, and will see me back in a few weeks. If there is no change, he wants to biopsy it. He also wants me to see a Rheumatologist, which makes sense since I have a history of Rheumatoid Arthritis.
I also spoke with my Infectious Disease doctor today. I broke out all over my chest (thanks for that... having MRSA is a big enough blow to my self esteem, now I have to cover up "the girls" too. Gheesh! Anyway, he thinks it's a Sulfa allergy, so I have to change medications.
I just spent $300 on meds last week. This is all I needed.
And by the way, the dermatologist didn't wash his hands when he came in, he shook my hand, and he didn't wash his hands on the way out either. You can bet your bottom dollar I got a big ol' dollop of hand sanitizer after shaking his hands. How can a doctor be so stupid when the clinic already admits they are aware of the MRSA outbreak in the area.
THE QUIET PHONE
I called my parents last week and let them both know I have MRSA. I haven't heard back from them since. I figured they would at least call to see if I was feeling any better since starting my meds. See, that's the damn stigma of this disease. Everyone thinks you're "dirty". Let me tell you, those who are all cocky and think they are not "in the same class" as those afflicted with MRSA are in for a rude awakening. Soon, you will have it, too.
Today, I had to see the dermatologist. I have what appears to be psoriasis on my elbows and some of the joints on my hands. He wants me to start using a topical ointment, and will see me back in a few weeks. If there is no change, he wants to biopsy it. He also wants me to see a Rheumatologist, which makes sense since I have a history of Rheumatoid Arthritis.
I also spoke with my Infectious Disease doctor today. I broke out all over my chest (thanks for that... having MRSA is a big enough blow to my self esteem, now I have to cover up "the girls" too. Gheesh! Anyway, he thinks it's a Sulfa allergy, so I have to change medications.
I just spent $300 on meds last week. This is all I needed.
And by the way, the dermatologist didn't wash his hands when he came in, he shook my hand, and he didn't wash his hands on the way out either. You can bet your bottom dollar I got a big ol' dollop of hand sanitizer after shaking his hands. How can a doctor be so stupid when the clinic already admits they are aware of the MRSA outbreak in the area.
THE QUIET PHONE
I called my parents last week and let them both know I have MRSA. I haven't heard back from them since. I figured they would at least call to see if I was feeling any better since starting my meds. See, that's the damn stigma of this disease. Everyone thinks you're "dirty". Let me tell you, those who are all cocky and think they are not "in the same class" as those afflicted with MRSA are in for a rude awakening. Soon, you will have it, too.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Don't Touch Me. I Have MRSA.
My Workday
I just stepped away from my desk. You, my coworker, were answered a page over the loud speaker using the phone at my desk. This is the same phone I hold up to my ear for most of the day.
The call requires you get onto the company database. You use the computer at my desk and put your hands on the same keyboard I use for most of the day.
The call you just researched turns out to be great news. You are so excited that when I return to my office, you reach out and shake my hand before I have a chance to avoid a handshake. I just scratched an itch right before I turned the corner.
I have to use the restroom a few times during the day. You use the same restroom I do and sit on the same toilet I do.
My Grocery Store Expedition
I need to eat just like everybody else. I put my hands on the grocery cart that I will cling to for the next 20 minutes or so. I pick up a product and realize it is not what I want so I put it back on the shelf. You come in after me and buy that same product, and use that same grocery cart. I pay the cashier with money I had tucked into my front pocket, and with the warm weather, it's no surprise the money is a little sweaty.
Ironically, the bagger at the grocery store has MRSA also, but I don't know they have it, and they don't know I have it. They have just put their hands on every single piece of food I am bringing into my home.
Clothes Shopping
As I am walking toward the door of the clothing store, I wipe my nose without realizing it. I then grab the door handle to let myself into the store. I have several lesions on my body. Most of the wounds are covered, but a new one has appeared that I wasn't aware of. I go into the dressing room to try on several outfits, and I work up a little bit of a sweat doing so. I canonly find one outfit that fits/suits me, so the rest of the items I tried on are returned to the rack. You come in after me and find that the outfit I didn't buy is perfect for you, so you buy it.
A Night On The Town
I put on my new outfit and go to town for dinner with friends. I rest my arms on the table as we chit chat over the spinach dip appetizer we are all sharing. Not paying attention to what I am doing, I "double dip" (a sin when sharing food). I eat my dinner, and my dirty dishes are sent to the kitchen after I leave. Joey the dishwasher is feeling overworked and underpaid, so he just rinses my plates cups and silverware instead of putting them through the full sanitation process he is supposed to. He gets minimum wage and therefore puts out a minimal effort.
After dinner, my friends and I go out dancing. A man is coming on to me. I don't feel very attractive with this awful disease. I have spent the last few months feeling like a leper. Suddenly an attractive man is paying attention to me, and I am feeling good for the first time in a long time. He doesn't know about the MRSA scars that cover my body. He doesn't know about the huge abcess under my arm and on my thigh. He doesn't know I can't shave my legs because it increases my risk of infection. He wants to see me again, and I want so badly to be thought of as normal that I say "yes" and give him my number. He sneaks in a kiss at the end of the night.
I just stepped away from my desk. You, my coworker, were answered a page over the loud speaker using the phone at my desk. This is the same phone I hold up to my ear for most of the day.
The call requires you get onto the company database. You use the computer at my desk and put your hands on the same keyboard I use for most of the day.
The call you just researched turns out to be great news. You are so excited that when I return to my office, you reach out and shake my hand before I have a chance to avoid a handshake. I just scratched an itch right before I turned the corner.
I have to use the restroom a few times during the day. You use the same restroom I do and sit on the same toilet I do.
My Grocery Store Expedition
I need to eat just like everybody else. I put my hands on the grocery cart that I will cling to for the next 20 minutes or so. I pick up a product and realize it is not what I want so I put it back on the shelf. You come in after me and buy that same product, and use that same grocery cart. I pay the cashier with money I had tucked into my front pocket, and with the warm weather, it's no surprise the money is a little sweaty.
Ironically, the bagger at the grocery store has MRSA also, but I don't know they have it, and they don't know I have it. They have just put their hands on every single piece of food I am bringing into my home.
Clothes Shopping
As I am walking toward the door of the clothing store, I wipe my nose without realizing it. I then grab the door handle to let myself into the store. I have several lesions on my body. Most of the wounds are covered, but a new one has appeared that I wasn't aware of. I go into the dressing room to try on several outfits, and I work up a little bit of a sweat doing so. I canonly find one outfit that fits/suits me, so the rest of the items I tried on are returned to the rack. You come in after me and find that the outfit I didn't buy is perfect for you, so you buy it.
A Night On The Town
I put on my new outfit and go to town for dinner with friends. I rest my arms on the table as we chit chat over the spinach dip appetizer we are all sharing. Not paying attention to what I am doing, I "double dip" (a sin when sharing food). I eat my dinner, and my dirty dishes are sent to the kitchen after I leave. Joey the dishwasher is feeling overworked and underpaid, so he just rinses my plates cups and silverware instead of putting them through the full sanitation process he is supposed to. He gets minimum wage and therefore puts out a minimal effort.
After dinner, my friends and I go out dancing. A man is coming on to me. I don't feel very attractive with this awful disease. I have spent the last few months feeling like a leper. Suddenly an attractive man is paying attention to me, and I am feeling good for the first time in a long time. He doesn't know about the MRSA scars that cover my body. He doesn't know about the huge abcess under my arm and on my thigh. He doesn't know I can't shave my legs because it increases my risk of infection. He wants to see me again, and I want so badly to be thought of as normal that I say "yes" and give him my number. He sneaks in a kiss at the end of the night.
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