Kirk Cameron

My name is Kirk Cameron I'm from Kenora, Ontario and I am currently in grade 11 at Beaver Brae Secondary High School. I had the flesh-eating disease when I was only 8 years old in 1998. I would like to share my experience, of what I can remember, with others out there. Okay, well my summer started off like any other summer. I had planned to go to Bible Camp after the couple of free weeks I had off from school. I was having the time of my life at Bible Camp, playing games, having fun, singing some songs in the chapel, and also my favorite....canoeing. Yeah, so one day, while we were playing our daily game of Capture the Flag, I was chasing after this guy with our flag but he took off into the bushes so I decided to chase after him, but once I realized that he was way to fast for me I settled down and hid behind a car. There, I was waiting for him to pop out so I can jump out and take our flag back!! So out of the bushes I saw him running, being followed by many little kids my age, as he was getting closer I was getting more prepared to jump out and tag him. As he got up to the car I jumped out, I slipped on a rock, and gave myself a six inch scrape on my left leg, just barely getting him. I didn't really think anything of the scrape, I had gotten many cuts during the week camping, so why should this one be any more different? The only thing I did was go to the nurse to get it cleaned out and bandaged up. Voila! It was all over, but boy was I wrong, the next two days were seeming to become much more harder to cope with. I was having trouble running my usual speed, I was limping while I ran a bit, but still nothing clicked into my head. The day camp was over we went home, and once there I went home and played outside with my friend Samuel, I haven't seen him for the longest time, he moved to B.C, and I was only able to talk to him over the phone. We were playing a game of tag and as I was running around my house my leg started to throb, so we stopped playing. The sun was also setting and I knew we had to give Sam a ride home anyways. So we dropped him off at his house, and I told him to come and visit me the next day. But the next day something that was unexpected had happened. I awoke in the morning having this sharp pain going right through my left leg and in my lower back, I thought that it was just a cramp, I was able to get up and walk over to my couch with no problem, but when I tried to get up it felt as if my back was being stabbed by 10 blades at once, with every step I took to get to my bed the pain just kept on increasing and increasing. Now when I look at my story, its hard for me to believe how could this happen to me, or anybody for the fact, especially when they're only 8 years old. When I got to my bed I climbed up and laid down but the pain just got greater, I couldn't stand this I started to cry my eye's out. I was crying yelling for the pain to stop, my baby-sitter didn't know what to do with me, I was scaring the crap out of him. He couldn't seem to get a hold of my mom, so he called my sister, Jenny. Once my sister heard she rushed over to my house and called my mom, she didn't stop until she was able to talk to her. My sister told my mom to get home right away, she said that I wasn't able to move and that I was crying because I was in a great amount of pain. With that my mom rushed over to the house and brought the nurse with me, none of them could figure out what could be bothering me, so I was shipped out to the hospital. While there the doctors did some test's on me and they still couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. My dad had no knowledge of what was going on with me, he was in Winnipeg on a meeting; so my mom called his office and told his secretary that his son is sick, and that he's in terrible pain and that the doctors have no clue of what's wrong with me, she told him to stay in Winnipeg because they would be flying me out to Winnipeg for more further testing. When my dad received the message he was already on his way back home, to see his wife and me. When he got the message he tried rushing his fastest just to get to Kenora to get to me, but when he heard that I'm being sent to Winnipeg, he turned around and headed straight for the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I remember seeing my dad at the emergency entrance, crying his eye's out asking me what's wrong, my mom and the other people said that they don't know. The only thing I remember saying to my dad was, "Dad. I'm going to be in a wheelchair from now on?" He started to bawl his eyes out now, he's the type to always give an answer just to make it better, but now, he knew that he couldn't really answer. He as well as everyone else had no idea what so ever. It's been three days while I was at the hospital and the finally found out what was wrong with me. I had the flesh-eating disease. Me, just a little 8 year old boy, has one of the most rarest diseases there are. But even then I didn't know what it was, I thought that they would just heal me like it was a cold or something. But then they told my parents that I'm lucky they caught it in time because if the disease spread, there was nothing they could do with me. From day-to-day, they were watching me to see if the disease would spread downward, or if it well spread upward, towards my heart. There wasn't an absolute chance it would be contained. If it travelled up or down, I would either have to get my legged amputated or there could be nothing done with me. Luckily for me it didn't spread and the disease started to shrink. I don't remember the time I spent at the hospital, I just remember being there from July to November. Throughout that time line, I had been in a couple of coma's, even when my close friends or family came, I couldn't do anything, if they came to see me I couldn't remember a single thing, I couldn't even remember them being there at all!!!! When the people in Winnipeg said that I was getting better the shipped me back to Kenora, there I was treated like shit! I was put into Isolation, and they didn't do a single thing to help me out, my mom and dad were like the doctors for me, when the doctors tried to help my dad refused for them to help me since they rarely did anything and decided that they would nurse me back to help. I was in the hospital for another 2 months, and throughout that time it was just me, my mom, and my dad, but as well as the occasional doctor. While in the hospital I had to relearn how to walk and I also had to learn how to keep myself held up. I had a ramp build for my at the side of my Whitedog house, and I also got another part of the porch extended. I was out of school for the longest time and I missed it dearily...... but not that much you know, I was still happy to be out of once in a while. But yeah anyways. That's my story, of what I remember anyways. And that will never get out of my head, or how the pain felt that day in the bed. It's been 7 years now, and the thoughts of it are still in my head, it doesn't bother me now, it just bothers me to think that anybody that I love and care for may get this someday and they would have to go through the pain that I went through. I've used my past experience and shared it with many people to expand their knowledge on the subject so they could think about anything that happens to them now. Start thinking twice about anything that you get from a hole the size of a pen hole to a huge open gash, anything could happen, just be careful. Thank you for listening to my story. I'm just glad that I got to share it with other people.