Читать книгу Death by Manicure: The Case of the Poison Polish - Dr. Robert T. Spalding Jr. - Страница 3

PROLOGUE

July 6^th 2003, Dallas, Texas.

It was a beautiful, clear summer’s morning in Dallas. Katie Johnson was off to town for a pedicure at her regular nail salon, and to pick up a few things for her wedding anniversary party that coming Saturday night. If the weather held, and there was no guarantee that it would at this time of the year, the plan was to start with a barbecue and then move the party indoors when it got dark. Or the alternative plan was to go with the flow. If the party was in full swing outside they would just stick with it and only change things up if it was going off the boil. There were a number of people invited who, although they all got on well with the Johnsons, there were also several personality clashes between invitees. Katie could always put her husband on peacemaker duty. Usually he was able to pacify a situation before it boiled over into a verbal assault. The trouble was that if he drank too much he could often cause trouble rather than prevent it. Indeed, there had been occasions where he would take sides with one of the antagonists, which could only make the situation worse. The women often found this amusing as they knew what guys were like and could all relate to it.

On these occasions, usually the guys ended up staying outside where they could swear and drink while the ladies retired to the more comfortable surroundings indoors. When the beer and bourbon got flowing it was not uncommon that the guys who had seen any kind of military service would start playing a game of one-upmanship in terms of anecdotes. These were made even better if one had some kind of prop like a scar. Some of the best anecdotes opened with something along the lines of “Let me tell you how I got this scar.”

Most of the immediate neighborhood was invited to this anniversary bash and Katie’s parents would be flying in from Seattle to stay with the family for a few days. Katie loved having her parents come to stay although they had a tendency to spoil the grandkids like most grandparents do. They always insisted on giving them money, knowing full well that they already received an allowance. Katie, by now, had learned that there was no point in arguing with her parents. Her grandparents had done the same when she was young, and even though her parents had asked them not to do it, they now couldn’t recognise that they were doing the exact same thing they had tried to discourage all those years ago.

Katie’s friend and neighbor, Pam Mathers, was in her front garden trimming one of its many hedges as Katie headed out. Pam’s garden always looked great, much better than Katie’s. She had often offered to do work in Katie’s garden, but Katie had never taken her up on it, as she thought it was something that her husband ought to do.

“Morning, Katie,” said Pam cheerfully with a little wave.

“Oh hey, Pam; how ya doin’? The hedges look good as usual. Beautiful day, huh?” Katie returned as she eyed the manicured bushes and took in the colorful flower arrangements.

“I’m doing great thanks,” Pam responded, wiping a little sweat from her brow. “You off into town? Yes, it’s supposed to be nice all day according to the forecast, that’s why I am doing the hedges while the sun is out. It sure makes a change from all that rain we’ve had just lately.”

“It sure does, yeah, I’m going into town for a pedicure and to get a few things for the party on Saturday. You can still make it, right?” Katie asked, taking her eyes off some brilliant roses to look at her long time neighbor.

“Oh sure, we wouldn’t miss it. Ed and I have been really looking forward to it, but I have warned him not to turn it into a poker session like he did that one time,” Pam said with a quick shake of her head and a chuckle. Glancing at Katie’s husband, she noted that he didn’t say a word. Typical, she thought, because he’d been one of the biggest winners.

“Oh that was ages ago. You never let him forget about that do you?” said Katie as they both laughed. They’d both shared a lot of good times over the years– some not so good ones too, as neighbors do.

“No, I sure don’t. The money he lost that night could have been spent on a new dress for me or any number of useful things, but there you go; that’s men for you,” Pam said as she motioned with her gardening clippers. “Anyway, don’t forget we’ll be bringing some food and wine over on Saturday. You both have a good day now,” she added, prepared to return to her work.

“Thanks, you too,” said Katie as her husband, Robert, just smiled. He knew better than to engage in these conversations about poker or gardening, because it never came out the way he intended.

Pam was pleased that the Johnson’s had made the decision to get back together after their divorce for the sake of their three teenage boys. Being a mother herself, Pam thought it was terrible for any child to go through their formative years in a single-parent environment. Given the amount of broken marriages in modern America, it was becoming more and more common that one parent did it alone, or they upset everything by juggling the kids back and forth between homes and sometimes between cities. She thanked her lucky stars that she and her husband had never had any major problems in their marriage. She sometimes found it a little hard to tolerate Ed’s gambling and drinking, but she gave him a little leeway for what she considered male vices. She would never be sympathetic towards infidelity though, not that that was the reason behind Katie’s divorce.

Katie’s husband wheeled her over to his white van and turned her round so that her back faced the side-door where she patiently waited through the process. Robert had fitted a retractable ramp to the side door so Katie could get in and out of the van. It took a bit of effort to roll her in sometimes, but with gravity assisting it was easy to wheel her out. Getting a regular pedicure wasn’t so much a luxury as it was a necessity. Due to her inability to trim her own nails, Katie, like many other Americans with medical problems, relied on the services of a nail technician instead of a podiatrist to render delicate nail and foot care treatments. If the truth was known, she hadn’t given the matter any thought. A podiatrist was a doctor after all, and she hadn’t considered that they would do something as routine as a pedicure.

Robert, a plumber by trade, had converted the van into a carrier for his wife’s wheelchair a few months ago, and he still had room to fit in all his tools. Katie was a paraplegic, a result of an unfortunate injury that had created permanent damage to her lower extremities. It had been hard on her as she had been a very active person who loved to get out and about. She was also keen, or had been, on playing a variety of different sports. But she seldom complained. It did no good, she reasoned, and she had not become bitter, as the injury had been nobody’s fault. It had just been one of those things.

After a 15-minute drive, Robert pulled the van over to a stop on MacArthur Drive, in the heart of Dallas. “How much time do you think you’ll need?” he turned around to ask his wife. He initially missed having her up front in the passenger seat, but was becoming accustomed to her place in the back.

“Well there’s the pedicure, then I need to go to the bakery to ask about the cake and then there’s a few other things I need to do … say two hours. Is that okay with you?” she asked, knowing full well that he had plenty of things to do in the mean time.

“Yes, that’s fine with me, I have a job on the east side of town, but I will be back in time. It’s only a leaking faucet,” he said checking his watch as he estimated the time and distance he needed to drive. “Okay, we’ll call it noon, then shall we? Then I’ll take you for lunch at that new Chinese place we tried once before.”

“Yes, the food there was good,” she agreed as she adjusted her purse on her lap and made ready for the short trip out of the van. “Okay, noon will be good for me; see ya later,” She added as she came to rest on the sidewalk and then prepared herself for the short trip to her appointment at KE Nails salon. She managed her chair just fine though she still had trouble with doors, but these women were great and would be on the dime to open it once they saw her coming.

Robert watched her wheel herself away. He knew he was lucky to have the kind of job where the pay was relatively high for the amount of time he actually had to spend on each individual job. He was just thankful that not everyone learned to do his or her own plumbing work. That would have tightened up his lucrative business. The other thing he had to be wary of was that, although not everyone could do it, he certainly wasn’t the only person in town who could do it, so he had to keep his prices at a level where he could compete with his rivals.

At lunch Katie was uncharacteristically quiet, Robert noted. Usually she was chatty about some of the universal gossip she had picked up during her appointment.

“A penny for ‘em,” said her husband, looking up from the menu.

“Huh … oh sorry, Hon.,” said Katie as she glanced at Robert and then returned her eyes to the menu.

“Is everything okay? Is it about the party?” he asked, a slight frown creasing his brow just the way it had since he was a baby.

“No, that’s all going to be fine I think. Something happened at the salon today. They cut my foot; they’ve always been so good in the past. It’s probably nothing to worry about, but it’s just that they made such a fuss afterwards,” She said, a small frown replacing her usually sunny, cheerful expression.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Robert responded. In his line of work, a nick here and a cut there were just par for the course. And really, how bad could anything be with those little scissors or toenail trimmers he imagined them using?

“Yes, you’re probably right,” agreed Katie. The cut still stung a little, but in light of everything she had gone through, and with the party coming up, she decided to dismiss it.

But everything wasn’t fine. Seven months later Katie was dead. As a result of her unfortunate death, a major upheaval in Texas nail salon regulations descended statewide within two weeks. Those newly enacted regulations had broad implications affecting the nation’s state boards of cosmetology and nail salons across the United States.

As most people do, Katie had always looked forward to her regular visit to the nail salon. She went into the salon monthly to get relief from her painful foot and nail afflictions and never had any problems before that fateful day. Some paraplegics or others with neuropathy depend upon these services. They are unaware that certain foot and nail conditions can lead to amputations or life threatening infections. As she had done for several years, Katie had rolled her wheelchair up to the footbath. She then complied with the soaking process to soften her skin in the whirlpool bath, while seated in her wheelchair. Suddenly, they noticed that blood was on the pumice stone while her foot was in the water.

In follow up on the routine pedicure, it is unclear whether Katie was treated with a pumice stone prior to her soaking.

The combination of an alleged injury with a pumice stone on the typically frail, atrophied leg of a paraplegic, and bacteria from a potentially improperly maintained whirlpool is a perfect recipe for a disastrous infection. Unfortunately, improperly maintained whirlpools have been linked across the country to a frequent cause of bacterial outbreaks. And this case is no exception.

Looking into the case, medical records reveal that over the next seven months the JPS physician at a clinic treated Katie for the MRSA staphylococcal (staph) infection on her foot from the cut.

MRSA is an aggressive staph bacterium resistant to common antibiotics and is found sometimes in the water of salon foot spas that are not disinfected properly. The doctor put Katie on a cocktail of strong oral and intravenous antibiotics, but unfortunately, the 43 year old died in February, 2004, after seven long months of intensive medical treatment.

The JPS Health Network doctor who signed her death certificate listed the cause as a heart attack from a blood infection brought on by a staphylococcal infection on her foot.

After her death, the KE Nails Salon initially denied even serving Katie on the day in question. Its owner was even absent during the interview with the TV news reporter. He had gone out of town for a few days in the hope that it would all blow over. But a nail technician was available for interview, and she said that she had worked at the salon for two years. She then stated that nobody at the salon, including herself, could recall ever seeing Katie Johnson and claimed that they ran a sanitary salon where there was no risk of picking up any infections. It was whispered that her boss had given her orders to take that line to avoid any trouble, although it was very difficult to prove that this had been the case. Of course, it was highly unlikely that the salon was going to cave in easily. They would not just say, “It’s a fair cop. We are guilty. Our place is crawling with germs, and if you come here for any treatments they may be your last.” That sort of revelation just wasn’t done in the business world.

But it did seem a bit fishy to all of those concerned with what had happened to Katie. The likelihood that an employee who had been working for an establishment for 24 months had not noticed a highly visible paraplegic who had been getting a regular pedicure over a period of two years seemed a little dubious to any reasonable person, to say the least. But the cold, hard facts were indisputable. Katie's bank records showed that she last made a check card purchase at KE Nails on July 5, 2003, and while state records indicated that there were 20 salons named KE Nails in Texas, there was just one in Dallas, and it was located on MacArthur Drive.