Staph

Can’t say how much I’ve fucking hated the past 2 years. Maybe more. For as long as I can remember, my face was just never feeling right. Almost unnoticeable. Slowly making its way through my neck and face. 

When the implants went in, something changed.  Sores. Man. The sores have been the absolute worst. Just showing up whenever and wherever they wanted. In my neck. My chest, on my scalp. Everywhere and anywhere. 

I started to feel it the most in 2019. Right as the implants were placed. It’s almost like it activated. The sores in my mouth got worse. And more abundant. The burning sensations would never go away. It started to slowly move into my cheeks. 2 weeks after the implants were placed the sore on my lip got huge. Of course dipshit made nothing of it. But it was the first major warning flag that I ignored. Under my tongue, a lump started to grow. Albiet slowly, it got bad. Right before the failure of the first implant, it was literally the size of my jaw. It was huge. It was painful. On top of that, I’m was feeling my heartbeat in my jaw. It slowly stared as an annoyance, but that quickly became a constant reminder that something is wrong. 

It’s pretty clear at this point my body has started to defend itself. Attack the invader that was left without my knowledge. But at the same time, that invader brought friends. This was when the fuse was lit. Staph has moved in. And it doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon. The defense just made me more and more miserable as time moved on. When November hit, the first flare is fired by my body. The first implant has failed. Probably been failed for about a week. Everytime I went to chew, I felt it hurt more and more. There seemed to be more sores “connecting” themselves. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I called Pomeranz to remove it. Just go figure. It’s my fucking luck this is how it’s gonna go. I had a suspicion the entire time. Even before I signed all the paperwork that this was gonna have problems. 

My past has proven it. Nothing goes my way. At all. 

When I called the office the sense of dread started to hit me. At the same time the septic feelings have returned. I knew that I was going to be going to the hospital regardless. My heart was all over the place. The lump under my tongue was beginning to make me gag. 

As I sat in the chair, the assistant pulled off my prosthetic. That’s when the foul taste / oder hit. It was nauseating to say the least. Then the tap test started. She immediately went for the one that’s failing. Yup. This thing is fucked. Not even 1 tap and I wanted to blow through the ceiling.  In a panic she left the room. The pain started to build. As each moment passed, the pain became exponentially worse. About 20 minutes past, and a frantic Dr Pomeranz came in. The look he had on his face was not reassuring. The look gave me the feeling that he’s fucking scared about something. He immediately said “this has nothing to do with your implant procedure, everything went just fine”. At the time I thought it was very strange for someone to offer that up. Why are you not focused on the implant that’s clearly failed. Pain at this point has hit my head. The swelling I am starting to feel in my jaw, and cheeks is getting worse. 

After halfass getting me numb, the implant was removed, and he frantically packed in bone graft material.  The main driver of the pain is out, but I am still in a lot of pain at this point. I’m also feeling extremely nauseated. The room has just been spinning. Literally feels like I’m constantly getting punched in my jaw. I took an Uber home. 

That’s when the nausea really set in. I started to feel septic. When you’ve had sepsis for the amount of times I e been there, you become in tune with the signs of sepsis and what to do. I took 4mg of dilaudid when I got home. And just tried to take it easy on the couch. As I sat on the couch, I wasn’t getting better. Fired up the blood pressure cuff and started to see more signs of sepsis. My blood pressure is through the roof. 

I called the wife and told her what had happened. We needed to go asap. I made the decision to go to Skyridge. They have an oral surgeon there that’s helped me in the past, along with infectious disease. As we got into the car, sepsis started to hit me hard. I called into my immunologist and he also agreed that I should be going to the ER. The drive felt like it took forever. Every passing moment I’m just scared. My heart is just racing, my blood pressure is through the roof. Where the implant was removed, there are a ton of lumps and bumps starting to form.  When we got to the ER, between my fever, repiratory rate, blood pressure, and being immunocompromized, the sepsis alarm was called and the pushed me into room 1. 

Room 1 is where you don’t wanna go. That’s the real emergency room. I was immediately met with a doctor and a scribe. Went over what happened. Vancomycin. That’s what was given. ER. Doctor came back later and admitted me. I started to think that maybe. Just maybe. This is the last time. Jesus Christ was I wrong. 

Every hospitalization after that. Vancomycin. It always made me feel better. Made my jaw not hurt. It was a relief. Always has been. I’m almost positive that the drill bit is what was harboring infection. My neck started to hurt around the end of 2020. Burning. Felt swollen. Lumpy. Pulling my skin tight you could see it plain as day. Then that’s when the sores started to push through. That fucking asshole infectious disease doctor and his “munchausens” diagnosis. He can seriously get fucked. I’m sorry but you cannot make up sores appearing on someone’s neck. In some way I made it to Mayo, to only be met by basically the same stupidity. You’d think that Mayo would be the best. It wasn’t.

Every day went by. Being more and more in pain.  Not being able to think straight. Miserable at best. At this point I’ve stopped caring. I really have. Nobody wants to listen. Nobody will ever fucking understand what I was trying to tell them. It severely saddens me that this is how people are. They really don’t care. 

When the MRI showed the metal, I was vindicated. This was a big fuck you to anyone who doubted me. It was the answer I’ve been looking for.  Before the implants I was fine. I didn’t have these problems. I was ok. But Jesus fucking Christ. Something so small, that doesn’t belong, can cause so many problems. Who knew?  I did. Nobody else wanted to believe me. Yeah. It’s easier to call someone crazy. Discredit them. Don’t take the time to listen to them. Just move them aside because they don’t matter. At this point my whole head felt like it was going to explode. It all hurt. From my head to my chest. At this point all my effort was focused on just surviving. I could feel the pus in my face. In my neck. 

The drive home was lonely. Infuriating. As I felt my heartbeat just pulse. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. I finally had some idea what’s causing it. There was the looming panic that followed once I got home. Making frantic calls to anyone who that would take this out. It took 2 days. 

You’d think that with all the antibiotics I’ve been on, that Staph wouldn’t exist anywhere, or any bacteria for that matter. As things went on, the drill bit gone, the facial sores persisted. The pus kept coming out. Again I was found back in the same trap that held me for all of 2020. Doctors that don’t care. “Prove it”. Is how every conversation went. So I did. I bought vulture sticks. Swabbed everything that would fucking come out. Thankfully there was 1 doctor that would help. Dr. Schleve. Of all doctors… a dermatologist. June was when my face really started to hurt. Nothing can describe the swelling I started to feel in my face, neck and jaw. The red spots / sores continued to show up on my face. As I would give him the cultures, tests continued to come back. Staph. 

It was quite clear that the new infectious disease doctor wasn’t going to help. Oh that’s just a contaminant. No big deal. Listen you fucking idiot. I am well aware that everyone has staph. On their skin. Everywhere. I know. So why don’t you use a brain cell and tel me why the fuck it’s culturing several times from pus. From my face?  Do you not see the red spots / sores?  Are you fucking blind?  No. You just don’t care. As the red spots spread across my back, it started to appear on my legs, my sides, back of my neck. This shit is spreading. It burns. It itches. Holy fuck. Someone do something. After the last culture once again cultured for Staph Epidermidis, I got extremely vocal. I told my GP that this is an infection and needs to be treated as such. Yeah I came across as a dick probably but I don’t care anymore. You are paid to help me. I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about your feelings anymore. I’ve become unfiltered. 

Finally. Dylan listened. Prescribed me 7 days of Cipro. The antibiotic that showed it would work across 5… yes 5 different culture results. Gave me enough so that I could get into infectious disease. Day 1 was miserable. I could tell my body was fighting something. By day 2 I got worried. I was going the wrong way. As I sat with Dr. O’Brien, he kept thinking that this is auto immune. 

Stop. Fucking. Saying. That. 

I’m sorry but this is infection you fucking idiot. I’m culturing for this bacteria. Of course his logic was like the rest of the doctors. This is bacteria that’s no big deal. Guess what fucknuts, it is. 

Thursday was my appointment with Hepworth. I brought the culture results. I sort of felt that I got his attention somewhat. It felt like he was half listening at least. He did see the bloody shit coming from my sinuses. He commented that it looks dry. As we discussed things, out of the blue he wanted to do an IGG subclass test on me. Which is weird. I’m on IG replacement therapy. That test is gonna be skewed. I asked him straight up that same thing, but I don’t think he was listening. He ordered that test, told me to stay on cipro as it’s probably going to knock out the staph. It was at that point he said, “it’s my belief that the IGG3 in your body isn’t working”. IGG3 is responsible for upper respiratory infections. Also is the main immuglobulin responsible for both strep and staph. Sounds logical. So maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. I have so much distrust with doctors at this point it’s not even funny. At the tail end of the appointment I straight up asked him about if this doesn’t clear up that I wanted to go on Vancomycin. He did some to some degree agree with me, but stated we need to figure out the immune problem I’m having before we go to it. 

I guess I’m willing to wait. 

As Friday hit, my weekly appointment with Dr. Schleve came. The usual kenalog injections to my face. As he walked in he immediately wanted to see what was going on. That’s when I showed him my back. My back has started to clear up  the red spots that have been there for 6+ months. Had started to change color, and the sores were starting to lessen. I told him that this bacteria is what’s infecting me. Finally he agreed. I asked him for 2 more weeks of cipro and he agreed. 

Progress.