How many times have I fallen in my life, scraped a knee or elbow, gone through the short “Ouch!” before the scab starts to form and I forget about it. No big deal. Historically I heal quickly.
On November 30, 2024 I fell while walking my then 16-week-old puppy, Lucy.
Stepped up on a curb like I’ve done dozens of times, but this time I promptly fell off and onto the asphalt. It was primarily my right shin and knee making contact. My jeans were not even torn. Aside from what felt like a bigger OUCH than I thought the fall warranted, what was challenging was getting myself back up. I avoid getting too close to the ground these days because getting back up has suddenly become not as easy as it used to be. Just a short time ago, it seemed I could easily get up and down, but alas, something has happened to my knees that makes it increasingly difficult. As someone said: “These days if I get down on the ground, I look around for what else I can do while I’m down there since I don’t want to get back up more than once.” Getting close to the ground this time, however, was involuntary.
I limped the half-a-block home, off came the jeans, and much to my surprise there was quite a bit of blood and a gash right on my tibia (shin bone). I thought I should disinfect it with an alcohol wipe, and what surprised me was how much it hurt, so I quickly covered it with a large bandage.
Over the course of the next week, I changed the bandage and imagined that my leg was healing, albeit taking a long time. By day 10, my entire lower leg was swollen and red and the wound had not healed so I went to see the wound specialist in my doctor’s office. She appeared to be 12 years old as most of my doctors seem these days, but I comforted myself with the thought that she must be just out of medical school and up-to-date on all the latest. She was very empathic as she tortured me by irrigating the wound then dressing it, and admonishing me for putting alcohol on it to begin with. “Never use alcohol! Just anti-bacterial soap and water.” She then prescribed two antibiotics and told me that if it didn’t get better within a couple of days to take myself to the emergency room because I might need intravenous antibiotics.
Within three days my leg was redder and swollen looking like a mortadella. Out of consideration, I am not showing a picture the wound itself. By this time what had been sore became pain, and I started gobbling Tylenol.
By Friday, my younger daughter was insisting on taking me to the ER where I was given an infusion of IV antibiotics and then sent home with a third antibiotic and told to go off the first two.
By now, I’m beginning to suspect that having been on antibiotics many times during my life, once for the better part of two years when I had Lyme Disease, I’d developed some kind of superbug that is antibiotic-resistant.
By Tuesday, after sending a message to the wound specialist in my doctor’s office along with pictures, she advised me to go immediately to the ER. My two daughters were both insistent that I go and since they are both smarter than I am, I listened.
This time I was admitted to the hospital and IV antibiotics were started, ostensibly for one night, but a second night was added — infusions every eight hours.
Hospitals are not among my favorite places to be, but I am grateful that the treatment was aggressive before I was discharged after 36+ hours with one of the first antibiotics as well as the other one I was put on the Friday before.
Twenty days after the fall, I am encouraged by the mortadella shrinking to salami size, although interestingly my leg is peeling where all the red was, as though I had a bad sunburn. In addition to the wound itself, I’ve developed something called “cellulitis” which I learn is a “common and potentially serious bacterial skin infection.”
What have I learned? I’ve learned not to expect that my body is going to respond or react like it used to, whether because bugs are fiercer or my immune system can’t fight them off as successfully as it used to be able to. I’ve also learned that most accidents that older people have are because they think they can still do things that they used to be able to do when they were younger.
In my checking information online, I discovered that superbugs are set to kill 39 million people by 2050, and that the WHO (World Health Organization) declares that antimicrobial resistance is an existential threat to the human race.
Some sources claim that the antimicrobial resistance is already a pandemic, and there is some pressure put on pharmaceutical companies to develop new antibiotics that can handle these superbugs. But the rumor is that these companies aren’t motivated to develop newer antibiotics because antibiotics aren’t among the most lucrative medications for them to manufacture.
What can we do in the meantime? Wash hands. Clean scratches, scrapes, superficial wounds immediately with antibacterial soap and keep them clean. And pay attention to symptoms and get help promptly if there’s redness or swelling.
As for my wound: it wasn’t until mid-April, or four and a half months after the fall, that my wound finally closed up. It required constant attention, dressing every couple of days, weekly visits to my wound doctor, miles and miles of gauze and tape and different gels. And a new-found caution born of the knowledge that I am not exempt from the possibility of this “old person’s” affliction.
Oh Patricia, you have described your fall and subsequent infection so well that I felt like I was right there with you. I can relate to falling “out of thin air” and looking for something solid to lean on to help me get up. For the first time in my life, I am exercising seriously. I’m so glad you ate healed and took the time to educate us about antibiotics.
Good heavens, Patricia! So sorry to hear this happened to you. Thank goodness you were able to get the medical assistance you needed. But what a journey after a "simple fall." Thanks for sharing your experience and including helpful data we can all benefit from along with your personal cautionary tale.
During an interview a while back, Candace Bergen admitted that she broke her hip or leg during a fall but kept it secret. She was afraid if word got out, producers might be inclined to judge her too old to take on any new roles, thus ending her career. "When I was young and fell, I just got up," she said. "But when I fall now, I break."
Glad you didn't break any bones, even though your recovery seems to have lasted just as long. Hope you're all better now.