Kandis was looking forward to a relaxing day at the spa, but it turned into a nightmare
Feeling shattered, I flopped down on to the sofa.
‘I always seem to be tired lately,’ I sighed to my husband Kurt.
I’d had an exhausting few weeks being a mum to my energetic five-year-old boy Kao, which had left little room for me-time.
‘You need a day to yourself,’ Kurt replied. ‘I’m going to book you a spa visit.’
‘How thoughtful,’ I said, tears filling my eyes. ‘I just want to be the best wife and mum I can be.’
As I headed off to the spa a couple of days later, I kissed my boys goodbye. I’d booked a few treatments, and I couldn’t wait.
After arriving at the spa, I spent a relaxing couple of hours unwinding. Then I practically floated to my pedicure session.
It was a new girl, and she seemed sweet and friendly.
As I laid back on the massage chair, she popped my feet in the footbath.
‘Just what I needed,’ I smiled.
Whenever I had a pedicure, I’d always ask the beautician to simply paint my toenails and avoid anything invasive.
‘What colour would you like?’ she asked now, showing me the various shades of polish.
I plumped for pink, and sat back as she applied the shellac and gave my toenails a quick file.
Only, as she got to work on my left foot, the file slipped and I felt a painful sting.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, looking mortified. ‘I feel terrible.’
Inspecting my big toe, I could see a trickle of blood.
‘Don’t worry, it was an accident,’ I said, wiping it.
She put on some cream and wrapped it up, then I let her finish painting the rest of my nails.
But when I got home, my toe started throbbing and turned bright red and swollen.
‘You’re limping,’ my husband said, concerned.
‘It was just a nick, I’m sure it will settle down,’ I shrugged, thinking nothing of it.
Only, that night, I woke up feeling hot and sweaty.
In the morning, I peered at my toe and gasped.
‘It’s nearly double the size,’ I said to Kurt. ‘It’s clearly infected.’
We raced to A&E, where my blood was taken and the wound was swabbed for bacteria.
I was told the results would be back in a day or two, and I was given strong antibiotics to take in the meantime.
‘Come back if it gets any worse,’ the nurse said.
‘What does worse mean?’ I asked.
‘If it turns black,’ she explained.
It was a scary thought, but I told myself it was highly unlikely.
Only, that night, my temperature skyrocketed. My fever was so bad, my teeth were chattering and my body was shaking.
When I switched on the light to examine my foot, I had to stop myself from screaming.
To my horror, my toe had indeed turned black.
Panic-stricken, we hurried back to hospital.
After examining my foot, the consultant looked grave.
‘I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to amputate your toe,’ he said. ‘The infection has spread to the bone.’
I reeled in shock. I’d never imagined it would come to this.
‘Will you still love me without a toe?’ I cried to my husband.
‘Of course, silly,’ he laughed, giving me a hug.
But it was very traumatic.
I was awake throughout the procedure, and could hear disturbing sounds as the surgeon sawed through my bone.
Over the next few days, I had to have two more operations, until I was sent home with more antibiotics.
But my nightmare was just beginning.
Weeks later, my body started to swell. My back hurt and I struggled to urinate.
I went back to hospital where blood tests revealed high levels of creatine.
It was a type of protein which was supposed to be filtered out of the blood by the kidneys.
Soon, it became clear that my kidneys were failing. But doctors had no idea why.
I became bloated, and stopped being able to pee.
‘Tell me what’s happening to me,’ I pleaded.
‘We’ll do an examination to find out what’s wrong,’ the doctor explained.
He began to look me over, noting the rashes all over my body and how my skin had started peeling inside my ears and belly button.
Suddenly, the doctor stood bolt upright.
‘You have toxic shock syndrome,’ he exclaimed.
I was a former nurse, so I knew what that was.
I’d read an article about a girl who developed toxic shock from a tampon, and lost both her legs.
It was a highly dangerous bacterial infection that was often linked to tampon use, but could affect anyone.
All it took was for one of the harmless bacteria, which lived on the skin, to invade the blood through a cut and release dangerous toxins.
It was extremely rare, and could even be life-threatening.
‘It must have been through the cut on my toe,’ I said.
After that, everything started happening very fast.
I was given more specific antibiotics, intravenously this time.
But it was too late to help my kidneys.
‘They’re damaged beyond repair,’ the doctor said. ‘We’ll place you on the kidney transplant list.’
‘A kidney transplant?’ I gasped.
I also started gruelling dialysis treatment three times a week. It was such a shock to the system.
Then one day, I was walking to the scales after my dialysis session, when I stumbled and broke both knees.
The recovery was long and painful. I became too weak to even get dressed, and my husband had to help me.
To go from being a mum and wife who did everything, to one who was reliant on help for the simplest of tasks, was difficult to cope with.
‘I feel as if I’m such a burden on you and Kao,’ I sobbed to Kurt one day.
‘Don’t ever say that, we love you,’ he consoled. ‘Do you think I could donate my kidney to you?’
‘We could look into it,’ I replied.
We had tests, but we weren’t a match.
I had a rare blood type, and it meant I’d have to wait for a transplant.
One day, Kao told me something that melted my heart.
‘Mummy, I’m eight, but when I’m 11, I will be old enough to give you my kidney,’ he said. ‘You’re the best mummy, even though you’re sick.’
‘That’s so lovely, darling,’ I replied.
I suffered from type 1 diabetes, and was prone to foot injuries from poor circulation.
I thought that had been a major factor in what had happened to me.
But then I began to hear about thousands of other women who had also suffered infections from salon treatments.
Many of them have been in touch with me to share their experiences and offer support.
I never expected that I would lose a toe and develop kidney failure just because I was trying to take a breather.
Kandis Saville-Parsons, 36