As each day wore on, I became more aware of my surroundings.  I was still unable to eat (tubes came from my nose) and move without excruciating pain.  I was in sheer misery.

Bryce, my husband, stayed by my side every day.  He refused to leave until visiting hours were over or until the doctor said it was time for me to get some needed rest.  He looked as old as the hills; my heart broke when I looked at him.

The doctor came to talk with me.  He was very frank in his tone of speaking.  What he told me truly alarmed me.  I had suffered a virulent form of bacterial meningitis which, in kind, caused me to lose both of my legs above the knee and also my right arm.  I was now an amputee. 

At the news, I cried.  I screamed.  The doctor had to give me a mild sedative to calm me down.  Poor Bryce was crying nearly as hard as I was.  We were both unsure what the future would hold.

I peppered the doctor, the nurses, and Bryce with an unending stream of questions.  I guess that was to be expected; suddenly, the world I knew came crashing down in a heap.  My future was now filled with much uncertainty and fear.  I didn't know what would happen to me or if I would ever get my life back the way I had always known it to be.  Suddenly, I was relagated to being a bed patient or being stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

I wanted nothing more than to kill myself.  Up until I got sick with the meningitis, I had always been a very active woman:  now I couldn't even take care of my own physical self.  I would be like a newborn baby with everyone doing things for me.

Suddenly my world looked dark.  Very dark, indeed. 

*to be continued.*