Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
Yes, dying. For nine months I had been going back and forth to the doctor, who kept insisting I was having some sort of allergic reaction. I was retaining a great deal of fluid, gaining over twenty pounds in four weeks. My legs were grotesquely swollen, my ankles aching whenever I stood much less walked. A nasty, suppurating red rash covered both legs, my forearms and my abdomen. I was fatigued to the point where it was almost too much trouble to breathe. The doctor kept giving me mild antibiotics, creams, took chest x-rays and blood work. At last the doc suggested that I start taking Zantac to help manage the allergic reactions and finally gave me an appoint with an infectious disease doctor. That specialist took one look at the blood work and asked me if I knew I had Type II diabetes, then ruled out any infection. Nothing seemed to be the answer, nothing seemed to be helping. Tired of going to the doctors, surrounded by boxes and debris from the move in July, worried about how long my new job was going to put up with my problems, the post I put on Facebook on this day in 2009 made it clear that I was at the end of my rope and giving up. For the first time in my life, I was so tired and so worn out I couldn’t even think past just getting through the next day.
And then my daughter stepped in. Realizing that the doctor I had been going to had totally ignored the blood sugar issue and hadn’t resolved anything in nine months, and worried that perhaps I had been misdiagnosed, she took me to the medical office where she was going. Physically drove me there and stayed with me during the visit. And we learned exactly what was wrong, that for nine months an untreated MRSA infection had been ravaging my body. The strong antibiotics kicked my tucas and sent me to bed, but for the first time in months, the rashes started fading. And I started taking medication and watching my diet to manage the type II diabetes.
There have been lingering problems from this episode. The main one is that once a body has been colonized with MRSA, you cannot get rid of it completely, so now and then a rash pops up. This seems to happen mostly on my legs so I usually wear slacks or maxi skirts to hide the sores rather than dresses. My ankles never did recover; I can no longer wear my high heels, and my feet swell to gross proportions rather quickly these days. This sometimes makes walking or standing difficult, which curtails my activity. My body adjusted to the large doses of Zantac and every attempt to wean myself off them results in incredible indigestion. I have to manage sugar and carbs intake very actively. And needless to say, I permanently changed doctors. In fact, if I was more litigious I swear I would sue that doctor who so mistreated me for nine months!
I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say my daughter saved my life six years ago, and I have thanked her many times for her intervention. And since then? Well for one thing, I question the doctor a lot more – he may be an expert but it is my health. For another, I am very aware of just how patient bossman was with a new employee having so many problems and have a great deal of loyalty to him and to the place where I am now employed. And lastly, I have been a lot more determined than ever to LIVE my life MY way
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