No, I can’t hold your newborn baby…or hug your elderly granddad…or let you borrow my shaving blade…no, it’s probably not the best idea to share my drinking glass, either…
No, I do not have AIDS or HIV, although it sometimes feels as if I might as well, as limiting as it can be to be attacked by the unseen “Necromancer” whenever I am again visited by him. I have no way of knowing when he will appear to visit me, I never see it coming ahead of time; the only inkling I ever have is that horrid taste in my nose and throat – but by then it’s undoubtedly too late to stop him from the imposition of another “outbreak”.
No…the assailant that stalks my every move is one that I never knew existed prior to my “traumatic injury” and subsequent recovery in hospital; I piqued his interest while I struggled for my life there; I have never been able to shake his presence since, he clings to my being like an amoeba now.
For his dark purpose, I have been given the role of “a carrier”, though his weaponry is not always communicable through me, only when he invades open wounds in my skin and others touch me, or when he covers my lungs with his necrotic ugliness and I cough it out at other people in turn. I didn’t see him here for a long, long time – he is a master of deception and assimilation; he hid so well in my tissue for so long that he made his way into the bloodstream eventually while he still had the opportunity, before the doctors even knew of his presence. He colonized in my lungs, built up a massive stronghold there…
I’ve never been able to ditch him, probably never will. He makes my Life miserable when he power trips with my health and well-being, when he refuses to allow my skin to heal over a simple scrape and instead infects me, anew. He’s in my face; my eyes, nose and ears…he’s in my lungs…he has become part of my existence since I was “recovered”…I hate him.


It started off last Tuesday, when I suddenly felt as if a barbed string had been inserted all the way up my left nostril somehow and was continuously wriggling around; by the following day, my left eye and ear were also affected severely. Wednesday morning, I was noticing the appearance of a horrid and disgusting taste in my mouth that I couldn’t wash away no matter which methods I tried.
A sinus infection, I figured…
I went to the doctor and suggested that I have another sinus infection (I am plagued by these regularly) and asked if they would just give me a prescription. They cultured me for Strep, and listened to my lungs before insisting that despite the fact that my lungs sounded “great”, I get a chest x-ray done – so I did. They sent me home with a dose of anti-biotic before calling me back the following day to inform me that they had been duped by my lungs during listening – and that I did, indeed, have pneumonia, after all. Lovely.
I have written before about being a carrier for MRSA, a leftover element of my ex-husband’s attempt on my life that haunts me endlessly; well, this is a good example of its lingering power and control over what would otherwise be an easily treated issue such as a sinus infection.
Due to my already weakened immune system (a direct result of the H-MRSA), and the colonization of this strain that I have unknowingly allowed to occur in my lungs during the past few months during the tax season crunch, etc. – and in combination with the poor status of my teeth, I have allowed myself to incubate full-blown necrotizing pneumonia again. I have only had this type of pneumonia two other times in the past, and both times brought on epic struggles between me and my immune system.
I will win again, I have no doubt…but wow…it is always quite humbling to be tossed on my ass once again by the invisible assailant known as H-MRSA.