Blakemama's Case History

[blakemama]

March 31, 2007
I'm Cheryl. I'm 52 years old. My journey toward C. diff was roundabout, but almost inevitable.

Up until February '07, I worked as the Ward Clerk of a local inpatient mental hospital. As this is a County facility, many street people were inpatient there. I picked up a MRSA (Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus Aureus) infection which gave me a disgusting axillary abscess that had to be cut and drained twice.

I was given 2 courses of Bactrim (a broad-spectrum antibiotic). My MRSA took up residence in my nose and was setting up long-term residence. A referral to an ENT to get rid of the MRSA colonization was determined to be necessary. The ENT said he needed to prescribe the "big guns", in this case, Clindamycin. I took the course of Clinda - along with the probiotics I had been taking with the Bactrim.

Four days after stopping the Clinda, I started becoming ill; while on a family vacation. My S-I-L is a naturopathic doctor, and she quarantined me from the rest of the family. Smart lady. She knew I probably had C. diff. then. She got me some FloraStor and I started taking it. We got back from vacation after a miserably painful car ride. 14 hours in a car with diarrhea and hemorrhoids (TMI, sorry)

The next morning I gave a stool culture. By that evening, my poor anus had swollen shut, and even though I had the urge to go, I could not. I was mortified and had to go to the hospital for them to do something to relieve me.

The doc didn't do any blood tests, no cbc, no lytes, no chem panel, no nada. I know he should - but he didn't. Idiot. Anyway, he prescribed oral vanco 125 mg q.i.d. I began the next morning. That same day, I began vomiting and the diar. stepped up the pace on me. I was thoroughly dehydrated. Back to the ER. I was 2 quarts low on fluids, so they rehydrated me and sent me home.

I'm taking the Vanco. I'm eating Activia Light (I can't have sugar because of my gastric bypass surgery), I'm taking Culturelle. I'm washing everything of mine separately, if it doesn't get thrown away. I'm only wearing clothes I don't care about because of the "accidents". I took to wearing Depends today :(

The culture came back positive yesterday morning for C. diff toxin. I'll be having a colonoscopy when the hems ease up, to look for plaques. I've been passing a lot of mucus and a little blood, so the GI guy thinks I may have pseudomembranous colitis. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.

I've got the Happy Birthday song stuck in my head...

[blakemama]

I'm using this case history to document my journey through Clostridium-town. I hope I won't be staying very long. I'm in good company, though.

Today begins the third morning of Vanco 125 mg q.i.d. I just swallowed my 9th capsule.

A little side story about pharmacies, health insurance and Vancomycin. I'm a little off schedule because I didn't get the meds until the next night. My pharmacy had none - go figure, but the local Wallblues (fill in the blanks) did have some. They SOLD my husband 6 capsules for $106 because this pharmacy doesn't honor PERS health insurance. Public employees must go elsewhere than Wallblues.

So, the next day, Friday (yesterday) I went to my normal pharmacy where they indeed had my Vanco, but no prescription info from Wallblues. There are 2 in town and the substitute pharmacist didn't know how to push the phone buttons to figure out which. I called my husband and asked him which pharmacy he got the stuff at for the $20/pill. Question answered, but it'll take at least an hour to fill it.

Meanwhile, since I was too weak to drive, I had taken a taxi from the ER to the pharmacy to pick up my medicine, and it wasn't ready (see above for stupid pharmacist trick). The meter was running. I went home without my miracle drug.

My sister-in-law, who had taken care of my 12-year-old son on Friday, went out of her way to pick up my Vanco and the other meds the ER doc wanted me to have. My potassium was way down from the dehydration, and the Culturelle. Guess what was conspicuously missing from the bag....yep, the Vanco. My SIL was sweet when she brought my meds. I was asleep, and she silently left the bag at my bedroom door and left, not wanting to wake me. So, by the time I woke up, it was 9:30 pm on Friday - no pharmacy open. I called, left a message for the pharmacist telling them I did not get my Vanco.

At 9 am Saturday, I called the pharmacy and asked if they found my vanco. I told them it never got in the bag, because there was no patient info sheet - and you know, you don't get medicine without one of those infernal sheets even if it's something you've taken for years. What a surprise, it was sitting there right in front of him!

So, another trip to town to get the Vanco and some Depends. (TMI moment) I'm tired of throwing away my underwear and it's too gross to think about washing.

Now I have my meds. I'm staying hydrated. I'm taking my Culturelle and eating Activia Light and a banana. I'm trying hard to stay away from coffee because I read on this forum that it is not good for me right now. I miss my coffee.

I'm possessed about hand washing. I swear, I'm gonna be obsessive about this for the rest of my life! A little OCD never hurt anyone, and being too casual can kill ya. The Happy Birthday song rings in my head as soon as I turn on the sink. I'm segregating my laundry, my trash, thankfully we have 2 bathrooms, but I have been bleaching the heck out of everything I touch. I feel like a prisoner in my own home.

Last night I was depressed and crying. I couldn't shake the feeling that I would poison my son if I kissed him, so I gave him some long-distance loving. The dog knows I'm sick. I stink. C. diff stinks! He stays by my side and just sighs and looks at me.

Day 3 of a 7-day treatment. Let's see how the day goes. I know if I didn't have this group to talk to and learn from, I'd be lost.

Signing off for now - 4/1/07 11:47 am PDT

[blakemama]

I guess I'm gonna live. I actually stood up today to do something other than lurch to the bathroom. That helpless feeling is going away. I'm weak, weaker than I've ever been. I've lost 10 pounds, and I was trying to hold my weight to a certain level. How ironic is it that I'm fighting to keep my weight up after being so overweight? It's mind-boggling.

I'll tell you something...this C. diff. thing is bigger than I realized. Not only that, but MRSA is at darn scary epidemic proportions! While I was in the emergency room getting my fluids topped off, there were 3 people in the waiting room, all with active MRSA infections. Two of the people were public employees, like me, and the other was a resident of a long-term care facility. Sure as I'm sitting here right now, I'd be sicker if I was hospitalized. Every hospital has this problem, not just urban ones, not just free clinics, EVERY HOSPITAL.

Every patient needs an advocate with them if they are hospitalized. Move into the hospital and oversee the cleanliness of your loved one yourself. RUDELY AND LOUDLY insist that whomever approaches your loved one to do anything, that they wash their hands. If they pass the sink without washing their hands, tell them they are not permitted to touch your loved one.

Here I sit, stupidly thinking I could have avoided the MRSA that started this whole thing by just being more vigilant about handwashing. I don't know. I washed routinely, even more than usual while I was the ward clerk. I still contracted MRSA. Maybe I scratched my nose? Who knows. This bug is insidious. This is scary $hit, and I've $hat so much that I don't care if I ever step foot into a hospital again. I'll treat it like a hazmat site, as it should be, not the safe haven I used to think hospitals were.

I won't shake hands with strangers. I'll use my own pen, thank you very much. No, I won't have any complimentary samples of whatever it is you're giving away unless you've got rubber gloves, a hair net and a mask on.

I guess I'm feeling better today because I'm angry. I didn't have enough energy to be angry yesterday. Today, I'm ticked off at the dirty conditions that made me sick. I'm suspicious of every outstretched hand. I worry about handling money. No, I'm not ready to wrap myself in bubblewrap just yet, but I am vigilant about what I and my family touch.

I guess the Vanco's working because things are slowing down, bathroom-wise. I guess the Culturelle's working because of the rumbly grumblies in my tumbly, I guess that's a nicer way to describe the hellish emanations of gas that erupt from me without warning. Ewww, this whole thing stinks!

I've never felt like this: It's like out of Star Trek, I've been assimilated, resistance is futile. The only difference is, I didn't know they were coming. I didn't know that by taking an antibiotic to kill one bug, that I'd get another, even worse bug. The doc who prescribed the Clinda calls me every day to see how I'm doing. I know he cares, it's not self-protection that makes him call me. He advised me to take probiotics with the Clindamycin. What to do? If I didn't have the MRSA, I wouldn't have needed the Clinda. If I didn't take the Clinda, I wouldn't have the C. diff. It's the house that Jack built, only backwards.

Okay, I'm tired and rambling now. See y'all tomorrow...