Other victims of necrotizing fasciitis, or "flesh-eating bacteria," shared their frightening tales after reading our February 10 cover story on Monica Sprague, who lost her limbs to the disease. We also heard about knitting at parties, choosing summer camps, and enjoying beef stew.
Medical Dramas
I was diagnosed with "flesh-eating disease" on June 5, 2007. I was taken to the local hospital in Ayer, where staffers told my family I had gangrene and was dying and there was nothing they could do. I was sent to Beth Israel in Boston, where a wonderful surgeon, Dr. James Hurst, and his surgical dream team saved my life. I came away with all my limbs and internal organs. Monica Sprague, unfortunately, was not so lucky. Your article "Saving Monica" (February 10) should be a wakeup call to all about this dreadful disease. I have emotional scars that will never fade, but I count my blessings every day that I am alive and physically intact.
Theresa Sears
Ayer
I hadn't meant to read the entire story on Monica Sprague as I flipped through the magazine on my way to read something else - but I couldn't stop. What a compelling piece. A remarkably brave woman, she has lived through an experience that is among the very worst nightmares imaginable. I was equally taken by the courage and support of her partner. Her personal valor puts one's own difficulties in true perspective.
Jeanie Connor
Longmeadow
I am a survivor of necrotizing fasciitis and lost my left leg below the knee in 2002 when I was 44 with a 2- and 4-year-old at home. My choice was to lose a leg or die. I have since returned to the nursing profession, ended a bad marriage that was already in the making when I became an amputee, and married a lovely man who makes me smile every day. My children are very sensitive, caring girls who only know their mother as she is - physically, that is. We swim together, dance together, and always look out for one another.
I applaud the magazine and Monica Sprague for sharing with readers the story of her devastating illness. I also want that brave woman and your readers to know that there are support groups nationally and locally (like Active Amputees Support Group at Braintree Rehabilitation Hospital) that have helped me navigate this journey.
Kathy Boucher
Foxborough
I can understand the frustration of Monica Sprague's husband. I watched my husband for 14 days as he lay in a coma, not knowing if he would ever wake up again. The day he did wake up, he looked at me, smiled, and said, "Hey, baby!" I was never so glad to hear his voice. He had suffered brain damage and many other complications from a surgical procedure several years before he contracted hospital-acquired staph infection, so his immune system was not up to par. Willie was never able to defeat the "super bug" and died on July 5, 2007.
I have joined many of the patient safety groups across the nation and am appalled at the rate of injuries, infections, and fatalities caused by the practice of medicine. There is no need for any patient anywhere to contract an infection in a hospital.
Dianne Parker
Aiken, South Carolina
Tangled Web
Robin Abrahams guessed that the knitter at the party was socially shy ("Miss Conduct," February 10). Another possibility is that the knitter has undiagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder. People with untreated ADD often have to occupy their minds and muscles with "extraneous" thoughts or motor activities during classes, lectures, meetings, and parties. I once saw a bright adolescent who did fine in grade school, where she occupied herself with daydreaming. But with the greater intellectual demands of high school, she had to occupy herself with continually drawing mazes in class, an activity that allowed her to attend to what the teacher had said.
Norbett L. Mintz
Lexington
Here's the Beef
I know you were referring to the can with the headline "Beyond Dinty Moore" ("Cooking," February 10), but I knew the original Dinty Moore in New York operated by James Moore and his daughter, Miss Moore, as she insisted on being called. They ran a beautiful white-tiled eatery in the West 40s, and their food was incomparable, although probably too plain for today's tastes. They had real boiled potatoes, as well as calf's liver and browned onions to die for. It was the kind of place where you'd find a stage star at your elbow.
John T. Owens
Cambridge
The Vanished
Your article "Return to Me" (February 3) was right on target. My brother, Anthony Ross Allen, has been missing for 30 years. Your article made me cry, but I'm glad I saw it. This nightmare is not something I'd ever wish on anyone, but at the same time, it's good to be reminded that my family is not the only one affected with these conflicting thoughts and emotions.
Laura Allen Hood
Fort Smith, Arkansas
SEEN ON THE WEB
From the blog "Echidne of the Snakes":
It is very hard reading, mixing the story of [Monica Sprague's] family with technical information about the problem. Maybe the second part in next week's magazine will talk more about the general problem and its prevalence in the recently hospitalized. . . . As you listen to the blather about Republicans' "health care" policy, think about this part of the article: "In a study [researcher Nick] Daneman published in the Annals of Internal Medicine last August . . . he found that just 12 percent of all the patients caught their disease in a hospital - most picked it up in the community."
From Anne-Marie Dorning's blog "Massachusetts Mom," regarding "The Road to the Right Camp" (February 10):
If you missed the recent Boston Globe Magazine piece on summer camps your child is probably already on the road to ruin - campwise anyway. The article is for those of you who wouldn't blink at hiring a "camp consultant" to help you with the oh-so-difficult job of picking the right sleepover camp for your precious progeny. . . . I'm sure there is some good advice here, but clearly Newton-based author Stephen Jermanok swallowed the American Camping Association line - and the camp consultant route - hook, line, and sinker.
