In February 2008 I started feeling unwell and had an odd "ache" in my right side. This continues and I did start to feel like I had the flu, was exhausted but blamed it on everything and anything as I could not explain the sensation that I was feeling. In early May, on a trip north for a family funeral I was rear ended at a red light. I ended up becoming more symptomatic as time went on and so went to the local hospital on Sunday, Mother's Day. I was told that even though I had a continual fever and that I had this ache in my side I basically had whiplash. Unfortunately, the fever never resolved, nor the other symptoms that were apparent before the slight accident.

I was at the hospital every Sunday and sometimes once or twice in between because I absolutely knew that something was not right. In August, I called my brother to say that I could not get myself to the hospital and needed a ride. I remember wandering around the parking lot as he went to get a wheelchair because I was extremely weak. The next part of my memory jumps to late September. I apparently had necrotizing fasciitis that started around my liver and emergency surgery was performed on me in my home town. I was airlifted to a major medical center where I stayed for about 2 months. I have lost 40% of my back muscle - from the rib cage in the front over to the spine in the back. My kidneys failed and I was on dialysis as well as being in a coma for most of my stay. My family had been told that the prognosis from the surgery and illness was death. Then because of the surgery paralysis because of the work done around and so close to my spine.

When I awoke, I had no idea of where I was. No memory of what had happened. I somehow was not even sore. I did hear everything that went on during the coma though. I woke up thinking I was on a yacht in the Caribbean during the hurricane they had and that I worked for Barak Obama. A life much more interesting than mine! The first few times that I tried to stand were incredible. My legs would not listen to the command that had come so easily. I am not a year + post-op and am having alot of issues with scarring and adhesions.

I do feel that when I was at the height of being ill and in the coma that I had the easy part versus what my family was going through. Now, I feel that I am fighting this and trying to regain some normalcy in life and it has been extremely difficult. I do feel that the medical profession failed me though. All the tests, all the complaints - all for nothing. So now as I feel the adhesions and scares act up I worry that maybe everything is happening again. The battle isn't before being diagnosed the battle truly is survival when healing, mentally and physically.