Are you there god? It's me MRSA.

Margaret had to deal with buying her first bra, having her first period, coping with belted sanitary napkins (times have changed for the better, in so many ways), developing breasts and being the child of an interfaith marriage.

And I have MRSA. On my face.

That pretty much sums it up.

Thanks, good night, god bless and drive home safely folks.
Nov 11 '09

Tuesday’s with gory

Oy vey, the painful swelling, will it ever cease?

I slept all the way through the night which was a blessing. As my spiritual leader Ralph Wiggum once put it, “Oh boy, sleep! That’s where I’m a viking!”  Then again, he also said,  “Me fail English? That’s unpossible.”

oh Ralph, I love you so!

If Monday was a day wholly devoted to Western medicine then Tuesday was a day dedicated their Eastern counterparts. The day was spent in pursuit of things such as Tea Tree Oil (so much stinging), Oregano Oil (even more stinging) for gargling, topical use and ingestion, and Manuca Honey - which I can never seem to recall the name of when I am in the health-food store.

It was a merciful (no pun intended) distraction from the discomfort of having half of one’s head twice its normal size.

Throughout the day, I found myself saying aloud, things like: “Sweet baby Jesus in the manger, this hurts!”or just whining to the pets, who were of no comfort whatsoever. In fact, the pets too are susceptible to MRSA, which means consoling hugs from the four-legged cohabiting critters for the forseeable future.

One bright spot, my acupuncturist agreed to see and treat me. It was a very delicate affair, all of my things needed to only come in contact with the paper that lines her table, and in my case, every other surface of her office. And even though it was extra-painful, the treatment seemed to really help abate some of the ever-so plentiful inflammation. Things were so sterile that Allison, my acupunturist, would not even accept payment, lest the money for the co-pay become a vehicle for transmission.