Friday, December 3, 2010

Meghan Daum Back From the Brink

She almost died:
Since I told part of the story in this space last week, many people have asked why the diagnosis took so long. The answer is that I didn't have much of the telltale body rash that goes with this type of typhus; moreover, blood and spinal fluid tests suggested that what I had was viral, not bacterial.

Even more people have asked if they should be afraid of encountering the bacteria in their own backyards. The answer is no. There were 18 cases of murine typhus reported in Los Angeles County in 2008, the most recent year for which data are available. Many more cases probably went unreported because the subjects were barely affected. The chances of getting the disease in any form are very small. The chances of getting as sick as I did are infinitesimal.

Besides, I hardly ever went into the backyard of the north-central Pasadena house my husband and I have been renting. That's probably why I didn't care much that there were piles of leaves left over from last year and that two palm trees on the property were harboring flea-infested rodents. Nor did I fret much in late September when I noticed that my ankles were covered with fleabites, most likely transmitted by our dog, who did sometimes go into the backyard and who sometimes also slept at the foot of the bed. After all, why be scared of a flea?

But a month later, in the hospital, after the results of my lumbar puncture came up positive for typhus, it was apparent we should have been a bit more discriminating about our landscaping. Either that or we shouldn't have let the dog on the bed. Of course, I could have gone to the doctor sooner, but ironically my general good health may have worked against me. I kept thinking recovery was around the corner. Instead, the disease was gaining momentum on its way to a full-blown attack.

Amid all the conjecture about what had happened to me, one thing was certain: I'd gotten better, and that made me exceedingly lucky. I was lucky not only to be alive but to have somehow avoided brain damage, deafness, blindness, loss of limb and paralysis. I was lucky, perhaps above all, to have countless friends and family members pulling for me.
I think that's why my dad never liked animals, but I'll no doubt keep an eye peeled for downed palm trees.

RTWT, plus Meghan's essay
from last week.

1 comments:

Dennis said...

As I remember Palms are not trees. I have several in my yard and I have someone come over and trim them each year and remove those that are not doing well. We feed them every year also.
One of the first things we did when we moved to this area was to go to the county extension office and take some of their free courses on the care and feeding of the various plants in our area. Learning only takes a small amount of time and is well worth it.
I am glad to see that she is doing well.