Medically Complex and the Stories of Our Lives

In a recent trip to the ER for what I KNEW was an unusual infection I experienced--yet again--SOP. Standard Operating Procedure.  I don't make ER runs for nothing.  After four years I know when Rhyse is experiencing symptoms beyond typical .  I recognize the changes in his behavior, skin color, urine output, formula tolerance, energy level, breathing pattern and oddly enough the smell of his vomit.  There's "just a virus" and then there is "an infection has taken over and he needs medical help now!" After check in and vitals we were escorted to a room at the end of the hallway, in fact the room at the furthest end of the ward.  The isolation room. Upon discharge from the NICU four years earlier, as a matter of procedure, Rhyse's arm was swabbed for MRSA.  To no surprise he tested positive. No wounds. Just a smattering of MRSA inconsequential to his health at that time, or any time really.  But the rule books say, "once diagnosed always diagnos