Rev. Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., M.A., M.Div.

The crisis of the moment is a bitch.

Mama ER has contracted Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, MRSA, a particularly difficult kind of staph.

Damn it all! That means she's isolated. Door closed.

For me, and most others, it means washing our hands a lot, wearing gloves to touch her, wiping things down, like this laptop computer, my cell phone and so on.

They're not terribly concerned about it spreading because it's deep in her lungs, it is being removed with a closed tube, and she is not coughing, which is mainly how it's airborne. Otherwise, it's spread by contact.

For anyone who is ill or with an immuno-depressed system, it means they can't be near Mama ER.

And that means Dr. ER. She has had so many health issues the past year, and, she just started another steroid, which further increases susceptibility to MRSA.

And that sucks. Dr. ER loves Mama ER, and is good for Mama ER, working with her in a way that none of the rest of us can. We are very, very sad about this.

Otherwise, Mama ER is OK, considering. She'll be on the ventilator for another day or so, I guess -- since I'm not sure at this point what all the treatment of MRSA actually entails beyond using a real strong antibiotic.

She is responsive, moving her right hand and leg when asked to, but she isn't opening her eyes. She was talking, slurrily, right up to the minute they put her on the ventilator, which is being used as part of the treatment of her lungs -- not as artificial life support. (There was some early confusion about that among my siblings.)

So, onward and upward. But without my beloved Dr. ER, at least for the time being.

--ER