Cincinnati, Ohio Maggots. One of my most favorite subjects, both medically and the gross out factor…and sometimes the intermingling of the two. Back in the 1920’s, maggot therapy was first used as debridement and as much as I understand the usefulness of these white nasty wiggling baby flies, I’m not completely sure, even with facing losing a foot or something, I’d readily allow my doctor to fix me up a maggot dressing. Don’t get me wrong, I can look at maggots crawling on people all day long with complete
amusement fascination, but the thought of those things hooking and devouring my flesh or infection is not worth entertaining. But they work. Well, the right kind work. They have to be of the “blow fly” (not to be confused with the botfly, another incredibly fascinating critter), and well, I imagine if you’re having a little maggot therapy done, you’d really rather it be sterile and not so much “spontaneous”. The good maggots devour the dead tissues and the bad maggots devour everything else. The good maggots will leave their host once the necrotic tissue is gone, the bad maggots have no sense of proportion, they munch on everything without stopping. “Can you feel them?” is most likely one of the common questions (answer is fuck yes) with a quick follow-up of “does it hurt?” (answer is ‘sometimes’) I’ve had the pleasure of being able to ask “controlled” questions of patients who’ve had the “spontaneous” maggot infestation. “Controlled” meaning: I was on duty and acting on a professional basis, not able to ask the questions that I would truly love to know. And that’s why I chose the story of Jorene White to bring me out of this 20-day hiatus…
Not that Jorene can answer any of my questions, mind you. Her story is one where I can talk about maggots, speculate, gag a bit, and post a couple gnarly pictures.
Jorene’s husband called for police assistance when he found his 46-year-old dead on their living room couch. I suppose they took one step toward the door, puked a little, donned some protective gear, then entered. They found Jorene’s body in what they concluded was an advanced state of decomposition, thinking she’d been dead for a good week. Darrel White stated she’d just died though. The medical examiner concurred. Despite the rotting flesh, she had just died.
Mrs. White had crippling arthritis, which left her bedridden and completely dependent on her 65-year-old husband. One neighbor stated Darrel was always running back and forth to the store getting things for her. That may be but what she really needed was a regular bath and a regular turning. Or maybe better drugs – drugs that wouldn’t make her feel as though bugs were crawling all over her. Oh wait…
Bed sores. Tons of them found on her body. Flies. Tons of them found on her body. The flies’ babies. Tons of them found on her body. The very ones that ate her to death. Maybe she couldn’t throw off the sheet (that Darrel kept on top of her) long enough to see those ghostly white fuckers sticking their hooks into her flesh but I guarantee she felt them. Her “official” cause of death: sepsis.
A Grand Jury just indicted Darrel White on involuntary manslaughter and failing to provide for a functionally-impaired person. If convicted, the maximum sentence would be 11 1/2 years.
Like any good husband, Darrel has stepped up to the plate and has taken absolutely no responsibility for allowing his wife’s body to be consumed by maggots and has, in a sense, blamed her for her demise. He claimed she vowed to never go to the hospital again. Tough shit. She obviously couldn’t move. Throw her over your shoulder, drag her by the hair, anything – she couldn’t fight back. Take her ass to the doctor, dumbass. Get rid of that god-awful smell that caused the police to don special masks prior to entering. It’s a concept even a complete retard can grasp.
While Darrel has been indicted, their two adult sons (who were often seen walking outside the home) avoided charges claiming they may not have known due to their father keeping that sheet over her. I claim bullshit. Unless they were devoid of the sense of smell missing the ever pleasant odor of rotting flesh and they were devoid of hearing the claims of “god damn, I feel like there’s something crawling all over me”, they had to have known something was just not right. But whatever. They got the biggest perpetrator in this case. The boys will be allowed to marry and repeat the cycle of complacency and neglect.