(Methicillin resistant Staphylococcus aureus) I've done the googling, and I've read up on it... Just wondering if anyone has any personal (or semi-personal) experience with it.
I once was looking up skin stuff, that lead me to giant zits on youtube... and a bunch of MRSA draining crap came up. I know I spent like an hour watching puss.
I thought I had it, bed bugs, or rocky mountain spotted fever, but it turned out to be the beginning of pityriasis rosea. (That was a fun disease) From what I could tell, it was nasty and gets worse pretty quickly. I would think you would know you had something seriously wrong and not wonder. Why?
I have dealt with patients who have had MRSA, it can be highly contagious. I've seen it in wounds, blood, stool(can actually smell it in stool), and in sputum(once its in the sputum it is airborne). From my understanding(may be wrong on this) but I have heard everyone has MRSA in their bodies, but it lays dormant. I believe that for example if someone has a wound and their immune system is shot to shit is when it comes out of hiding. Proper protective gear should be used when dealing with it, mainly gloves and aprons when dealing with it in wounds,blood and stool. And I've always used N-95 masks when dealing with it in the sputum, was told the N-95 masks are only for people who have tuberculosis, but fuck it, I never wouldnt chance it. And Nauseous is right, the shit can spread quickly if not properly treated.
Before I started this thread, I had just received word from my mother that my 97-year old grandmother had been taken to the hospital due to yet another onset of pneumonia, and while they were admitting her, she tested positive for MRSA with a nose-swab test. She had been diagnosed with COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) a few months prior, and has been on a roller coaster ride of infections, antibiotics, recovery, and stabilizing ever since. Never smoked a day in her life, and was always as spry as ever. I went to work this afternoon, and got a call from my mom, with an update from the doctor. I made arrangements for someone to cover the store for me, and raced to the hospital (in a town ~70 miles away.) On and off the phone with my mom, at her bedside, whom knew it would be soon. She was taking breaths about twice a minute, and her heartbeat was weak & irregular. Made it to the hospital in record time, ran to the room, sat down on her bed, gave her a kiss, and for the first time in two hours, she opened one eye and started breathing more regularly. Her pulse was weak, but strengthened a bit as we sat with her, comforting her, and reminiscing old times and cherished memories. I don't think I could live with myself if I hadn't made it in time. She waited for me, though. I told her over the phone that I was on my way, and that I'd see her soon - what had started out as "any minute now" ended up being a 45 minute reunion a couple hours later. I've never held a loved one as they passed away. She went peacefully, comfortably, and with her loved ones at her side. As painful as it was, it was beautiful at the same time.
As painful as it was, it was beautiful at the same time. Sorry about that Lomo but glad something positive came of it.
I'm sorry about your grandmother. Ninety-seven years. That's an accomplishment! I'm glad that you made it in time and that she was fortunate enough to spend the time with her loved ones. A lot of people never get that.
Thank you all for your heartfelt sentiments. The funeral is tomorr......err, today - in roughly 12 hours. I've never spoken at a funeral, but I've been working on something... This is going to be a real test when it comes down to it. I owe it to my grandma, though - I will do my best to maintain my composure.
Everything went very nicely. It was a great service. I'm proud of my mom for having the strength to stand in front of everyone and recall a few fond memories, specifically from her last two years, after she had moved away from her hometown to be closer to my mom. It was a great idea of hers, giving everyone some info on how she had been doing, as everyone there had little to no contact with her recently. She held herself together better than I did, but I owed it to my Grandma to say everything I set out to say. I had a paper printed out, with what I wanted to say, but only ended up using it to recite a Bible verse, and to glance at it to make sure I didn't leave anything out. I spoke of how fortunate she was to have been able to spend so much time with her daughter in her final years (she undoubtedly logged in more hours at the different care facilities per week than any of the staff.) I also mentioned that as fortunate as she was to have all that she did, the only ones more fortunate would have to be all of us (gesturing to the group,) for having her in our lives - our entire lives. I finished by pointing out the longest ribbon, a lone white ribbon, attached to a single white daisy that adorned the top of the otherwise yellow floral arrangement atop her casket. I'll post my closing as a quote: "Some of you may wonder about the significance of the single white daisy. It's no secret to anyone here that 'Momo' was never a cat person. Until I got one. Her name is Daisy. The flower and the ribbon are symbolic of the only cat, in 97 years, that has ever sat on her lap and been stroked."
Another thing I didn't have time to mention a few days ago... A couple of years ago, my mother gave me a very special gift. I never had a chance to meet my grandfather, as he died on the night my mom's graduation night. My grandmother took it really hard, and never spoke of him. It was always too painful for her to think about, and any mention of him would cause the conversation to veer off in a different direction. I must have inherited my OCD from him, however, as he carried a silver dollar with him everywhere he went. It's impossible to date, as it's been worn completely smooth on both sides. My mom gave me his coin a couple of years ago, and I was worried that I might lose it, and vowed to not carry it with me, as it is positively irreplaceable. It's a vow I broke the same day. It travels with me in my pocket everywhere I go, and I've not been without it a single day since I received it. I clutched it tightly as I raced to the hospital to see her. When I was at the hospital, sitting on the bed with my grandmother, I held the coin up and showed it to her. I told her how special it is to me, and how I carry it with me always. I think this is the first time I even spoke his name in her presence. I placed the coin in her right hand, and we held it together for the rest of her life.
damit Lomo... you are making me all sad and sobby. and making me feel like a crappy grand daughter. and making me mad at my brother for being even worse to our grand parents. I am very proud of you (sounds silly since I dont know you) but I am proud of you for being such a stand up guy and having a heart. I was with my grandfather when he died, but it was more of a blessing of ending painful misery and suffering.
Lomo the game is up now we all know you only try to come off as a hard ass but in reality your just a kind and compassionate guy. And there is nothing wrong with that. Another one of life's big test you did the right thing no doubt. I hope you find solace in the fact that from all accounts it seems she certainly knew she was loved completely to till the very end and that really means a lot.
I think you meant to say, "It's hard to believe that those words stemmed from your cold, hard hands..." OK, Joe & Rhonda - you called me on this one, too. You've all been witness to the soft underbelly that is hidden behind a near-impenetrable suit of armor. I'm only a hardass if you cross me (or even slightly piss me off.) If you really piss me off - well, just hope you never do. At any rate, this past week has been a very powerful one, and I've learned quite a few things, some of which you might expect from me, others might be a complete surprise: 1) Never underestimate the awesome, odd-defying power of love, or deep connections between individuals. 2) The bonds between family can be stronger than ever imaginable, even to the point of mocking Science and probability itself. 3) When you know in your heart and soul that you have something important to say - not a damn thing is going to stand in your way, whether it involves gaining the courage to stand up in front of your entire family, or maintaining your composure as you pour your heart out to both your immediate family, and those other 50 people you only see once a year, if even that. 4) While everyone else left the graveside, it personally comforted me to make sure that not only was the casket lowered with the utmost care, but also the lid to the cement 'frame' around the casket was closed carefully, but also meticulously aligned after being dropped in place - a step I doubt would have been carried out in such careful detail if I wasn't there observing the whole thing. 5) Watching as the shovels cover the grave in earth gives a more compelling closure - while everyone else was back at the church eating sandwiches, I was at the site making sure they finished the job they were paid to do, in a respectful, and dignified manner. ***These next few observations are only vicariously related to the funeral, only because I happened to be in the area, and are much more in line with what the casual reader might expect from a typical post of mine... 6) Firing an AK-47 on an open range, with flat plains to every side of you, seriously gives you a new respect for the rifle. Not only is it extremely accurate, and quite durable - but that baby sings across the land louder than thunder. I swear, I could hear the shots echoing in the distance like never before, at least 4 seconds after the shot, even with earplugs. I know the entire town heard that bitch go off. 7) It's cute to see the town police stymied by a locked ranch gate when they feel the need to investigate hearing a few pistol clips being fired in rapid succession. I didn't even notice them there until it started getting dark, and I made my way back to the second gate. It's funny how they think their little megaphones carry their voice half a mile away. I took my time in driving back to the front gate, while the DARE truck & a cruiser were blockaded by a simple chain and padlock - I'd have made it to the gate sooner to find out what they wanted if I didn't have to make sure the horses didn't escape to the cow territory, of course. At any rate, it was blissfully satisfying to drive up to the gate, step out of the truck - I even had cowboy boots on - an ode to my grandma, not part of my wardrobe, and certainly not part of my typical range attire (nor was the Tommy Hilfiger suit & tie, but I digress.) There's just something special about leaning on your gate and asking the cops, "Can I help you, officers?" -- shit, if I'd done that back in town, I'd have my ass arrested. This settles it - I need to build a house on a few acres somewhere. Let me fire my shit off whenever the fuck I feel like it, and smile as I reassure the officers that they don't have to go out searching for a body. There - I gave proof that the ol' Lomo is still alive and well after this event. Let me finish by mentioning one thing that seems to be more than just a strange coincidence... (Back to "sentimental Lomo") ...when I was young, my grandma used to do this strange thing where she'd press her face into mine, noses and foreheads aligned, and with open eyes, ask me "Do you see the owl?" I know, everyone I've mentioned this to before has looked at me as if I were crazy... But it's something she picked up on, and often did with me when I was a child. Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a Biologist, but my knowledge of owl behavior hasn't been fully studied yet. I can say, however, that I know enough about them to ascertain that they avoid humans during their nocturnal hunting (or, any activity, really.) After thanking the police for investigating the night of the burial, I went back to the grave to say yet another goodbye. I hadn't even thought of the 'owl' reference before that point, but despite the noise I made parking next to, and walking to the grave, an owl saw fit to fly past my very eyes, perch atop an adjacent tombstone, and stare directly at me for a while... I've never been that close to an owl before, and wouldn't think anything of it if it weren't for a few other perceived "signs." Who knows? Too late to ponder - have to work tomorrow... Again, thanks to everyone for supporting me through this rough time.
I was making it slowly through some really thick woods one day. I came near some homes and startled what sounded like a 500 pound Akita. (I knew someone owned one in the area and it sure sounded large) Any ways as I proceed I checked the area for quickly climb able trees. It was a really thick ceder thicket and like night time in mid day. Anyways I went to grab a ceder branch and nearly put my hand on what looked like a barn owl but it was tiny only slightly larger than say a softball and light speckled reddish tan blending in with the color of the ceder tree bark. Years later I meet a guy on the internet who has an owl story also. Coincidence? Ok not meaning to be a smart ass just just looking for an excuse to tell my owl story.
It's been nearly 9 years but I still have dreams like he was here today. Very odd. I always went to him for advice, and it seems he still gives it to me years later. Its funny, but I always wake up feeling better after one of those dreams. Then again I think grandparents have the wisdom to really mold young minds. Where parents try 'do it or else' approach grandparents know how to really reach a kid on a level that parents rarely get right. That and they give us lots of sweets.....
