Fresh from moaning about my foot, it’s my arm that’s my latest tale of woe – 2013 is turning out to be the year where I get a rude welcome to middle-age. My latest ailment has turned out to be PVL-positive Staphylococcus Aureus, sounds grand, doesn’t it? Stick it in Google and you get some terrifying potential consequences although touch-wood mine was arrested at the skin-infection stage.
I’m now forbade from work not because I’m still infected but I might still be a carrier of the bacteria which is being encouraged to departing through some special shower gel and stuff to shove up my nose for the next five days. The original infection which started with a boil (that I mistook for an insect bite initially) and ended with me having an arm like Popeye has been rendered dead through antibiotics, leaving now just a fleshy crater on my forearm.
There’s been plenty of amusing banter surrounding ‘Susan’ as I named the boil (see what I did there?) – but I suppose it’s a useful reminder that when things occur that are making you uncomfortable it’s wise to get checked out by medical professionals. If I’d followed well-meaning advice from friends on social networking then it could’ve ended up a lot more serious – notwithstanding the residual risk of spreading the infection.
Poor Cat of course gets dragged into it through her proximity to me – and thankfully the birds have their own version of Staph infections that aren’t transferrable to humans, just as ours aren’t to them – so aside from a bit of residual tiredness I’m okay, funnily enough when you point out to your work that you’re away through fear of infection there’s little argument! (In fairness, my colleagues are very caring and understanding about sickness in general).
The likely cause of all this? A carrier or the bacteria in the mosh pit at the Ferocious Dog gig in the Rescue Rooms. This is not an issue of cleanliness or dirtiness, somebody could be carrying such things completely unawares – those that succumbed as well as me I think are being treated similarly so hopefully nothing serious will have happened as a result aside from some discomfort and inconvenience.
Cat and I are now awaiting confirmation for details of the charming process of decolonisation that we need to go through before being fit for public consumption again. It should all be precautionary, but it does rather make you feel like a plague-bearer. If folk could refrain from painting a cross on the door though, it’d be appreciated!
Any such actions will prompt me to upload pictures of Susan to accompany this post!