Sunday, September 23, 2012

"Staph Aureus, MSM, and God's Mercy"

In January. 1999, my teenage son had a catheter in his chest that went directly to his heart for the medicines he was taking for Aplastic Anemia (like Leu
kemia). His white cells were in the decimals, practically non-existent. His line got infected with the common Staph Aureus (MRSA) that is now killing people that are much healthier than my son was.

It was January 8, his paternal grandfather's birthday. He went in for a platelet transfusion, and while checking vitals, it was noted that he had a slight fever. In a short while, it was higher. He was admitted to the hospital, stripped to his underwear, placed on a bed with ice bags, with a fan blowing on him. It wasn't working. He was dying. Blood pressure falling, falling, falling. The bacteria were winning.

Mike and I walked out of the room to leave space for the team of doctors that surrounded him. 'Six people around his bed; kind of like pall bearers around a coffin' went through my mind. We leaned up against the wall and asked God to spare his life. "Not our will, but Thine be done." It was the hardest prayer we had ever prayed.

He lived; it was a true miracle. We praise God for His mercy.

The catheter line was taken out. A huge hole was left in his upper chest. Remember, he had no white cells (or platelets, or red cells, and was dependent on transfusions for these, but white cells cannot be transfused). His life, once again, was at risk.

He was discharged home and a nurse came out to show me how to change the wet-dry dressing. The opening was so deep that it had to be packed with gauze and saline so that it healed from the inside first. This was very painful for Jared, as this process had to be done twice a day, each time with the dressing being pulled out and a new one stuffed in.

Without white cells, though, the healing was slow, very slow. Time was the enemy. Bacteria had to be kept at bay long enough for the body to heal, and without those white cells, time gave the bacteria the edge.

I did exactly as I was instructed, for about two days. There was very little progress. Then it happened. Walking past his room, I think I had a stack of laundry to put away, I received very clear, distinct instructions from Above.

"Use MSM." That was the message in its entirety.

It was like a lightning bolt. Of course! MSM is organic sulfur: Methyl Sulfonyl Methane. I had been using it and recommending it to my friends for a couple of years for things like constipation, joint pain, parasites, and better skin and hair. It came in powder and capsules and liquid eye drops.

I had the eye drops on hand. At the next dressing, instead of using saline, I used MSM Eye Drops. They were sterile and the salinity was balanced for the eyes, so it was good for the body.

At the next dressing, there was improvement. At the next dressing, there was even more improvement.

A few days later, he went in to see the doctor. As he ripped off the bandage (yes, he ripped it off without mercy...I saw that, and God saw that, too, and he will get his due someday), he stared. Then he turned and looked at me, and said, "What are you using?"

Now think about that for a minute.

How did he know, or suspect, that I was "using" something other than saline?

1. The wound was healing. 2. Jared was still alive.

He then told me that he had expected him to die, as AA patients often succumbed to bacterial or fungal infections, and this was a really big, open incision. He had seen people die from much less.

I told him about the MSM Eye Drops. I asked him to log it into Jared's medical records. He refused.

To this day, I wonder if Dr. R ever tells other patients about MSM.

Does he remember the new skin that had grown in basically hours, and the fact that he was alive when he should have been dead by clinical standards?

Does he look in the face of weary, grieving parents who are watching their child slip into eternity and say nothing?

Does he think about MSM when he goes to sleep at night, knowing that some of his patients with a Staph Aureus-infected catheter, unlike Jared, will go to sleep and not wake up?

Yes, I wonder.


Kathryn said...

I'm sitting here trying to think what to say. Words fail me. God bless you for your willingness to hear and to be smarter than the usual person who lets someone else decide what is and isn't sensible.

I only wish I were as quick to hear the word of the Almighty, as you are. My little dog is very ill. It took me three days of hearing the word "croup" before I acted on it. (I have never been a mother and had only a vague idea what croup meant.) The homeopathic remedy I found for croup has her breathing again...though, sadly, at her age and with her trachea collapse this may be the last recovery for her.

It will take me a while to read through your blog but I'm glad I found it. I miss your facebook posts, btw.

Unknown said...

Thank you for sharing your beautiful story from tragedy and despair to triumph. I needed to read that today due to my own personal struggles. God Bless you and your son even more than what he has already with life.