Up until I got pregnant at age 17, my eczema was manageable. I was diagnosed when I was four years old, and used the same topical steroid for years. Whenever I had a flare, I put on the cream and my skin would calm down. When I was eight, I moved to Tampa, Florida, and, despite the occasional rash, I still wore shorts and tank tops. Besides, the air felt good on my skin. But by the time I entered middle school, things started to get worse. The patches were spreading—to my wrists, the back of my legs, and eventually to my face. Then I got pregnant, and my skin just went crazy.
The worst months
I was two months pregnant when the left side of my face started to itch uncontrollably. I felt it before I went to bed one night, and by the next morning, my skin was so inflamed that my mom had to take me to the hospital. As the weeks went on, my skin got worse: I scratched the sores on my head so much so that my hair was falling out in patches, and my legs were raw from clawing at the skin.
The hospital stay
While monitoring my blood pressure, the doctors took culture swabs of my legs. Two days later, the results came back: MRSA, a serious, sometimes life-threatening infection caused by a type of Staph bacteria. Before I knew it, I was being whisked away to a room at the end of the hall—an isolation room, where they told me I was going to be quarantined.
The aftermath
I was discharged a day and a half later, but I was still in a lot of pain, especially in my legs. Everything hurt. It even hurt to wash my son’s bottle. I eventually had to go to a different hospital to get a prednisone shot. That was the first time in two months that my legs stopped hurting.
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