It started with a bite. A mosquito bite on the back of the leg that seemed like nothing at all. But then came the swelling, the reddening, the blackening. Then came the daily trip to the doctor to change the tube in the leg. The daily change of soaked bandages. The inability to walk without leaning against walls and pain medication. Super antibiotics. Night spent sleeping in a chair because lying down hurts. A heating pad and long soaks in the bath.
Every movement of the leg tears the muscle where the infection has woven itself. But eventually it heals, and there is a purple, twisted scar.
This is MRSA staph. I’ve had it on my legs twice, my arm, in my ear, on my scalp in three places, and now on my face. Only by now I recognize it before it turns black. Now I go to the doctor before it becomes a volcano. My hair falls forward just enough to hide it as long as there is no breeze.
Well, this may be the regular staph. I’ve had that too. But they didn’t cut it open this time to take a culture. I caught it early enough, so there is just bactroban and antibiotics.
It is under control today. Looks like bad pimple today and I’ll go to IF+D today to make art and meet people. Before I couldn’t stand the idea of meeting anyone with this mark on my face. Will people want to buy anything from you if you looked diseased?
Vanity is a terrible thing. My father used to say, “Does your face hurt? Cause it’s killing me.” My face does hurt, and I’ve gotten little work done.
How productive have you been lately?