Peter Queenan was my husband of 42 years. We were high school sweethearts and loved each other dearly for all of the 42 years that we were married. On our 40 wedding anniversary we renewed our vows at a surprise wedding anniversary party that our daughter and son arranged. The night before Peter was taken to the hospital we were at a restaurant having dinner and talking about our plans for the future .The following day the doctors were telling me that he was dying.

The morning of February 16, 2007, Peter fell and began having a great deal of pain in his leg. He was rushed to the hospital that afternoon and soon after being admitted, he began showing signs of dehydration and kidney failure. Following a biopsy and a MRI, the doctors diagnosed his condition as necrotizing fasciitis. They immediately rushed him into surgery and removed all of the skin and fat from his right leg. Six hours after the surgery the bacteria had spread to his left leg, and he was taken back to the operating room. Although the doctors did not amputate his legs, Peter was left with just the muscle and bone on both legs, blood pressure so low that he had to be on a huge dose of medication to keep him alive, an irregular heart beat and kidneys that were not functioning properly.

The doctors did not think he would make it through the night after the second surgery, but he was strong and kept fighting. His blood pressure rebounded to a safe level, his kidneys began functioning and he began initiating all of his own breaths after a tracheotomy was performed to wean him off the ventilator. We were praying that he might have a chance to recover from this.

In the weeks ahead, Peter had three more skin graft surgeries to try to cover the horrible open wounds on his legs, but following the third surgery his condition began to worsen. He developed pneumonia, his liver began showing signs of being compromised, his blood pressure dropped significantly and his kidneys stopped functioning again. The doctors said that although the original infection had been contained, he had developed a systemic infection, and they could not do any more for him. We all knew that Peter had been through enough and that it was time to let him go.

From the time Peter showed signs of this terrible bacteria until the time of his death, five weeks had passed. It was the longest and most emotionally trying five weeks of my life. When the end came, I, our son and daughter, his sister and Peter's best friend were at his bedside where he passed away peacefully. We were all comforted in knowing that this terrible ordeal was now over for him. We were also comforted in knowing that he received wonderful care from the doctors and nurses in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit as well as the surgeons in the Burns Unit at the Mass. General Hospital. We will be eternally grateful to all of them, and their kindness to him and concern for us will never be forgotten.