I stopped the antibiotics at the end of September when the infection was thought to be gone. To know that the drugs that were strong enough to damage my internal organs might not be powerful enough to fight the bacteria they were intended to treat, made me feel incredibly powerless. Top doctors were giving me potent cocktails of the most powerful antibiotics available, and we were not sure if the drugs were even working. My immune system, kidneys, and liver were failing, and I could feel my body giving up. I felt my body shutting down from the toxicity of the treatment. I began a course of strong antibiotics, including an antibiotic of last-resort called colistin, which is rarely used because it’s so toxic. Another surgery was required, and the surgeon found the tissue was still infected with the highly drug-resistant bacteria. They thought the infection was gone, so I was released and returned home to my family.Īfter four weeks at home, the pain still hadn’t subsided, and my doctor knew something was wrong. After another surgery to remove infected tissue from my residual limb, I was put on broad-spectrum antibiotics as a precaution. I remember when the lab results came back, the hospital staff was so concerned by the NDM-1 that everyone went into crisis mode, and I was immediately isolated in my room. I had never heard of any of those bacteria, nor NDM-1, let alone thought that one day I would become infected with them. When I arrived back in the U.S., I soon learned that my wounds were infected with multiple drug-resistant bacteria (including Pseudomonas aeruginosa, Klebsiella pneumoniae, Morganella morganii, and Enterococcus), several of which tested positive for New Delhi metallo-beta-lactamase-1 (NDM-1), a dangerous and recently discovered enzyme that makes bacteria resistant to a whole class of very important antibiotics. When I received clearance to be airlifted back home to Seattle after a hazy three weeks of agony, I thought the worst of my journey would be over: Maybe I would need some antibiotics and other treatment, but I could get on with learning how to live with only one leg. It was as if I was in the middle of a nightmare turned reality I didn’t receive pain relievers until a week after the accident. You never know when it's the biggest day of your life until it's happening. All of the sudden I was hit and dragged by a train, resulting in the brutal amputation of my right leg above the knee. One morning while I was walking to the orphanage, I took a shortcut across some train tracks to avoid the trash-filled roadside. In June 2011, I was 19 years old and working as a volunteer with HIV/AIDS orphans in Calcutta, India, through the social justice organization YWAM, far from my home in the Seattle area. In just one moment my life changed forever. Medical Education Community of PracticeĪ 19-year-old from the Seattle area battles several NDM-1 positive antibiotic-resistant infections as he recovers from a train accident that cost him his right leg.Fellows-In-Training Career & Education Center.myIDSA Practice Managers Community Opt-in Form.Antimicrobial Stewardship Centers of Excellence Program.
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