Too Early to Think Straight

Before Christmas, the Squire got an ingrown hair inside his nose, which caused him to bear a strong resemblance to W.C. Fields. Our family doctor sent him to Patient First, where he was prescribed first one, and then another, antibiotic, neither of which worked. They, in turn, sent him to a dermatologist who did a culture and put him on Bactrim. I happened to mention this chain of events to the Army doctor, and she very casually remarked that "they frequently use Bactrim for MRSA." Lovely. That was a heart-stopping announcement!

The infection cleared up but about two weeks ago it came roaring back, settling in his sinuses.  I don't mind telling you that an infection this close to his brain was a tad unsettling.  The Squire simply called our family doctor and asked for a renewal on the Bactrim, which promptly caused him to break out in a head-to-toe rash. Back to the dermatologist for a round of steroids and yet another antibiotic and a cream to dab, via Q-tip, on the sore in his nose.

This morning about 4:15 he got up to blow his nose, and then left the bedroom. Suddenly he was shouting from the bathroom that he needs to go to the hospital NOW. He had awakened because he was gagging on his own blood! I don't think I have ever gotten dressed quite so fast in my life. I grabbed yesterday's clothing from the laundry basket and ran! Off we go, him with a wad of bloody tissue and me without my contacts. Anyway, we were in and out of the hospital reasonably quickly, with a bottle of some sort of spray, which he is to use twice a day for three days and then toss. The doctor also told us that everybody has MRSA is their nose, and that is where they test for it, so it's nothing to sweat about, but just to be careful. No more sharing spoons and all that jazz.

The ER doctor suggested the Squire see his ENT today to have the inside of his nose inspected and possibly cauterized, but the doctor only has hours in Bel Air on Tuesday and Thursday, and they can't possibly squeeze him in until Thursday afternoon. I made an appointment, but I have the feeling that he is going to figure the heck with it at that point. We know what happened and how to handle it, and unless he has another flair up we're just going wing it.

TMI and all that jazz...I'm going back to bed. I don't do 4 AM any more.