A Floxie friend called me last week to say goodbye. She had received a terminal prognosis from a couple of doctors and she was going into hospice care for her last hours/days/weeks/months on earth. She is in her early 50s. She has been dealing with fluoroquinolone toxicity, and some compounding issues that stemmed from being simultaneously administered Cipro with steroids, for about 13 months. She has become so weak, so poisoned, and so overwhelmed physically by her illness, that she can’t fight back any more. She will not last much longer.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what is appropriate in this situation. I wish her peace. I hope that she and her loved ones get the opportunities to say what they need to say to each other. I hope that she feels loved. I hope that she isn’t in pain.
I really, really, really wish that none of the physical and mental deterioration that she has experienced over the last 13 months had happened. There is nothing that is okay about her dying from a fluoroquinolone shutting down her body. It’s tragic. Absolutely tragic.
She was healthy, happy and beautiful 13 months ago.
Now she is going into hospice care.
It is just so, so sad.
I don’t think that anyone ever knows the right thing to say when faced with death. Concentrating on peace, love and coming to terms with the situation seems like the best, and right, thing to do. But, in our conversation, she did mention that she wished that she had the strength to tell her story, to speak out against those who poisoned her, and to warn others about the deadly combination of fluoroquinolones and steroids. She doesn’t have the strength to do so. But I do. She, and all of the other people who are hit hard by fluoroquinolone toxicity, are the reason that I do what I do. I write for them. It’s not about Lisa not being able to dance in heels for a while. It’s about those who lose their health, those who are in chronic pain, those who are too weak to fight back, and those who die as a result of fluoroquinolones. I write to scream about their pain and their losses. There is nothing that is okay about their pain (or my pain, as trivial as it is in comparison). There is nothing that is okay about body-wide shut-down and death being the result of taking an antibiotic.
I also write on Floxie Hope to let people know that their path is not necessarily one of terminal illness. Many people make a full recovery. I hope that everyone reading this recovers. But it would be false and disingenuous to pretend like everyone recovers. Not everyone does. Some people die from fluoroquinolone toxicity. It is tragic and it is wrong.
I hope that this little tribute to my friend brings her some peace and happiness. I acknowledge her struggle, her pain and her sickness. I don’t know what I can do to stop the horrible tragedy of people being hurt, and dying, from fluoroquinolone toxicity. But speaking out is a step. It is something that I am capable of doing and I hope that it helps.
May she be at peace. May she know, really truly know, that she is loved.