Woman's Day, October 3rd, 2006
“This is bad. This is really bad,” the surgeon told me. “You could lose your leg—or your life. I want you at the hospital in two hours for an operation.”
I remember sitting on that cold examining table and looking at my infected knee. I’d been up all night with excruciating bone pain that frightened me silly. But that fear was nothing compared with what I was feeling then.
I needed to what? Or I might lose what? His words didn’t process at all. And then I went into hyperdrive, calling my husband, my kids’ school, my father, my brother, my pastor, the neighbors.
“Hello, I’m going to be operated on in a few hours or I might die. Anything new with you?” How do you say that?
I could hardly believe that what had started as a minor skin problem less than two months before had turned into a life-or-death medical crisis.
A Simple Boil
Strangely enough, my problems hadn’t started with my knee, but someplace a little farther north. I was on vacation in Atlanta with my husband, Tim, in November 2004 when I felt a large, painful boil on my bottom. I had never gotten one before, but I thought it was more of an inconvenience than anything else.
As soon as we got back, I went to see my primary-care doctor, who said it was an abscess. She lanced it and put me ona penicillin-based antibiotic. But she failed to culture it, which would come back to haunt me.
Done deal, I figured. Why worry about what appeared to be an ornery boil? In fact, it healed right up. But then three weeks later, another abscess appeared on my left knee. I went right back to the doctor, but because it was between Christmas and New Year’s, I saw a different doctor. He didn’t seem to think it was anything to worry about, or even wonder at the oddity of two boils in different places. He gave me more penicillin-based antibiotics.
Turn For the Worse
Four days later, my knee was redhot, hard and looked infected. I went to my primary-care doctor and said, “I am not leaving until somebody does something about this!” She sent me to a surgeon, who took one look and announced, “I am going to have to cut you wide and deep to get at this.” It started with a boil, and now I was going to have my leg cut open? How did this happen so fast?
The surgeon injected a numbing agent and made a 2-inch-long, 1-inch-deep incision, taking samples to culture and biopsy. He told me to stay on the antibiotic and come back on Monday. Tim couldn’t believe that he’d left a perfectly healthy wife in the morning and came back to one whose leg had been cut open.
Up until then, I was working on the assumption that I had a bad infection—
difficult but not critical. But when I returned to the surgeon on Monday, I learned that the culture showed I had MRSA (Methicillinresistant Staphylococcus aureus), a term I’d never heard before. Unfortunately, in the next few months I was to become something of an expert on it.
“Most people acquire MRSA during a hospital stay when the bacteria enters an open wound,” my surgeon said. “Have you had any medical procedures recently?” I hadn’t. I’ve been pretty healthy.
The surgeon took me off the antibiotics, because the infection is resistant to penicillin, and instructed me to try wet-dry changes (soaking gauze in saline solution, packing the wound with it, then when the gauze dries, pulling it off, which also pulls off the dead skin and infection).
Not Just in Hospitals Anymore
As soon as we got home, Tim started researching MRSA online. We also
consulted a neighbor who was a physician’s assistant. What we found
out blew us out of the water: MRSAis part of a growing group of dangerous “superbugs” that don’t respond to normal antibiotics. Since they can’t be controlled, they can ravage the body with what is often called flesh-eating bacteria. People lose body parts or sometimes die.
We also found out that although the majority of cases of MRSA are “hospital-acquired,” there is a small but rising group of cases that are “community-acquired”— meaning people just pick up the bugs in normal life. All that is required is a paper cut or some other kind of opening for the bacteria to get in, and voilà.
A lot of people report getting them at gyms because so many people use the various machines. But I hadn’t gone to a gym and I couldn’t remember any cuts. That, I learned, is becoming more common—not being able to
trace the source of the community-acquired MRSA.
Would I Lose My Leg?
Two weeks later, I was back in the surgeon’s office, reporting the deep bone pain. “I don’t think you are going to like what you’re going to see,” I said, revealing my knee, which was covered with white-headed blisters. He took one look, and that was when he prepared me for emergency surgery.
A couple of hours later, I was at the hospital, with an IV of non-penicillin–based antibiotics going in me. I was given anesthesia and went under knowing there was a chance I might wake up with my leg amputated.
I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for Tim—wondering whether his wife was going to come out with one leg or two, or if she was going to come out at all. At least I was unconscious! But fortunately the infection hadn’t gone into the bone, so I was able to keep my leg. The surgeon took out only soft tissue—the size of a softball— from my knee, but no muscle or bone. That wound had to remain open for six days to ensure that the MRSA
was gone. It was six days of extreme pain in the hospital. After that, I had plastic surgery to close up the hole.
Just a month after I was released from the hospital, I had to return when I developed a blood clot in my leg. That landed me in the ICU. After that, the MRSA kept reappearing in my wound, and the doctors would lance the wound again and again to drain the infection. It seemed like it would never end.
Today, nearly a year and half later, the MRSA is gone (knock wood!). Sure, my leg is ugly and numb from my ankle to the knee, but I am grateful to have a leg. It now functions at 80 percent mobility, which is fine with me. I’m just happy to be alive! Unfortunately, I’ve developed a resistance to even non-penicillin–based antibiotics. So I have to tell you, every little pimple I get these days? You can bet I clean it and watch it very carefully.
(Sidebar)
MY ADVICE
To protect yourself from MRSA and other antibiotic-resistant infections:
-Cover all wounds with clean bandages—especially if there is drainage or pus.
-Wash hands and shower often.
-Don’t share personal items such as towels, razors, combs, clothing or
sports equipment. If you must share equipment (such as machines at the
gym), clean it before using it.
-If what appears to be a pimple or spider bite develops into a boil or larger
infection, see a health care professional immediately.
(Sidebar)
A Dangerous Infection on the Rise
Although the majority of MRSA cases are acquired at hospitals, there is
a significant rise in community-acquired cases, says Nathaniel Smith,
M.D., former director of infectious disease at the Arkansas Department
of Health and Human Services. He says 30 percent of the population
carries the staph bacteria on their skin, hands and nasal passages;
1 percent of that number carries the antibiotic-resistant strain. If you
touch hands with a carrier, use gym equipment after a carrier did or are
near a carrier when he or she sneezes, you can acquire MRSA.
“Gyms are a particular hot spot because of the multiple use of the
equipment and the propensity for injuries. But we’re seeing more and
more of the community-acquired MRSA that is untraceable,” says Dr.
Smith. Since doctors and hospitals aren’t always required to report all
cases of community-acquired staph infections, there isn’t much hard
data on how widespread the phenomenon is—but all preliminary
evidence points to a growing problem.
