This is Eli

A blog about Eli. A blog about survival – and by that, I mean life!

Well, the nanny has MRSA.

Doesn’t know how she got it – a cut on her thigh became infected, landing her in urgent care over the weekend.

Poor Lo.

I won’t go into her personal business, but this was the last thing she needed after the week she had!

Unlike coo coo Nanny X, Lo is not lying about this freak medical issue.

For those who don’t recall, Nanny X made up a story about lice on my daughter’s birthday to get out of work early. Then she quit on the phone.

Lo is so different, so responsible. For starters, she potty-trained three younger siblings, for Pete’s sake! She has five siblings, making her the oldest of six.

In the short time she’s been with us, she’s really become part of my family. We are a team out to care for Laila and Eli. She’s a gem!

Ah, the no clothes life. Ahhhhhhh.

Ah, the no clothes life. Ahhhhhhh.

A doctor put her on a strong antibiotic. MRSA stands for Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. It’s an infection that’s difficult to treat. I Googled to be able to tell you that. Mayo Clinic called it “virulent.”

It seems so strange to get hit with MRSA out of no where. Yet this very thing happened to a police source of mine last year.

I was there to check out the reports. Out of nowhere, another source, the captain, comes out of the back with a mischievous look on his face and starts bleaching the place with a bunch of Clorox wipes. Door handles. The paper shredder.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Gary’s got MRSA.”


Out of nowhere, a little spot on his hand just blew up. His hand was three times its normal size. He was hospitalized for eight days and that little dot just started eating away at his flesh. He recovered

He showed me a picture on his phone of his hand, somewhat gleefully, might I add. It looked like hell.

“Aaagghggggg!” was my reaction.

So, any how, I hope sweet Lo is OK.

I’m off to Target again today to buy sterilizing-the-whole-house supplies.

This all sounds familiar. Oh yeah, my daughter’s hand-foot-mouth nightmare.

Of course, any time some freak illness nears the household, I think of buddy’s CF. What if he catches it? What if it goes into his lungs? It’s always in the back of my head. Just. there.

It’s the last week of school for Mark.

I have to take time off of work to care for the kids these next few days.

Also, my piece on our experience with cystic fibrosis is running this weekend (so long as we don’t get another natural disaster).

Good thing I finished it last week!

Yes, editor, you were right. It had to be done.

There, I said it.

I’m still coordinating with our various teams on the layout for print and online, and on all the multimedia elements.

I’ve made peace with my column, an egregious act of over-share if there ever was one.

I hope people enjoy it if nothing else.

Here’s to hoping.

Mommy's got an over-share problem. Maybe she should see somebody about that...

Mommy’s got an over-share problem. Maybe she should see somebody about that…


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