a little story about MEEEEEEEE shiteatinggrin
THOSE WITH A WEAK STOMACH MAY NOT WISH TO READ THIS !!!
Some years back, I had a stationary motor bike accident where I fractured my right tibia and crumbled my knee.
No skin was broken, just my leg wobbled loosely from the knee down.
After a two hour ride back to hospital, sitting between sixty and a hundred and ten clicks, plus stopping for a beer at the Mountain View pub, I got to the hospital and was told I would never clean another carpet in my life again.
Two days later they operated.
The day after to op; I told them to pull the junk (Morphine) tubes out of me.
Ten days later I had golden staph;
Mrs A. :shock:
They chucked me onto Vanco; plus 3 x Naprosyn 500 each day. (Which they forgot to take me off of).
I complained of a pain in my leg, which for a week or so they said I was imagining things.
An x-ray showed that one screw was not in the plate and my tibia, but was "floating free", I still have the x-ray showing this.
Six months and five more operations, I was informed by a young punk disease specialist that if "the mrsa gets into the tibia, he'll amputate below the knee. If it gets into the knee, he'll amputate above the knee".
Apart from some verbal abuse and trying to grab him to
punch his lights out........................
Anyhow, I started treating this myself.
Once a day the nurses would come around, undo the bandage, pull out 5' of puss filled bandage from the wound, wash the wound, re-pack fresh bandage, tape me up and say, "C'ya tomorrow".
So twice a day, I'd get a dressing kit plus fresh saline water, grab a wheelchair and get myself across to the Cairns Esplanade where I would do the same as what the nurses would do.
EXCEPT.........
After removing the packing from inside my leg and washing it out, I would let the sun work the tender skin for ten minutes, morning and afternoon.
Just enough so as not to burn the raw flesh.
:idea: HELLO all you wdr guys, remember, UV rays kill bacteria. :idea:
Two weeks later, they wheeled me into theater, pulled my plate out, along with the eleven or so titanium screws, stitched me up and told me to go home, they didn't want to see me again.
They could find no trace of Mrs A in my system.
I think that was about 11 years, last week-end in January ago just gone, I'm still cleaning carpets and knee kicking with that knee.
Conversely, my mate picked up Mrs A in intensive care when he had a drip inserted in his wrist after suffering a heart attack.
He has to undergo a heart op; but with the Mrs A, he has only a 50/50 chance of survival.
Stay healthy.