My NHS: From relief to horror after I contracted MRSA on the ward

The infection ate away a skin graft and took hold

Lisa Markwell
Monday 06 October 2014 16:56 EDT
Comments
Lisa Markwell was admitted to a London hospital for a skin graft following a motorbike crash in Thailand
Lisa Markwell was admitted to a London hospital for a skin graft following a motorbike crash in Thailand (Rex)

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

I should preface this by saying that I have had cancer treatment, infertility treatment, and four ambulance trips to A&E. I sometimes joke that I should have a season ticket for my nearest hospital. And I have had almost unerringly good experiences.

But there is one hospital stay that sticks in the mind. It was with enormous relief that I was admitted to a London hospital for a skin graft after a grisly motorbike crash in Thailand burned a hole in my lower leg.

Oh thank goodness for the dogged professionalism of the NHS. Or so I thought.

A patch of skin was removed from my backside and attached to my leg. I was to lie still for a week for it to “take”. I hunkered down with a pile of books. After five days the consultant, the nurse, the surgeon and a couple of students gathered round my bed to unveil the newly patchworked and repaired leg. They unwound the dressings for the big reveal and then… silence. An awkward silence. From the other end of the bed I asked “what’s wrong?”

What was wrong was that I had contracted MRSA. It had “eaten away” all of the graft and had taken hold. It was a devastating, miserable turn of events. I was whisked into an isolation room and remained there for two weeks.

The only punctuation points in this interminable wait to see if my flesh would fight back were the antibiotic injections every four hours. It was icy cold, every time, and made me cry. It seems – now – like an insignificant detail, but it made me dread that moment.

When I’d recovered the doctors returned. Would I like them to have another go at the skin graft? Could they guarantee that I wouldn’t get another flesh-eating bug? They couldn’t. So I still have the hole in my leg.

Lisa Markwell is editor of The Independent on Sunday

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in