While I was in there, sadly, Mom passed away. She had been in a nursing home since my 2001 health crisis because she had fallen on her way to bed one night and broke her hip. She tried to get back on her feet for a while in physical training, but ultimately gave up. I guess it was just too hard for her to bounce back. She never walked on her own again.

I had to be discharged from the hospital to take care of the funeral arrangements. The funeral home I chose did an outstanding job!!! A few days after the funeral, I was readmitted to the hospital. After two weeks and about 50 pounds of water weight lost, I was discharged. I am still amazed at how much water weight I had gained.

By the middle of November, 2003, I had a strange, scab-like thing on my right thigh that was gradually getting larger. I don't remember injuring myself, at least not in the area of my center, top right thigh. I had been running to many different doctors with various specialties, showed each one this "scab" and none seemed to know what it was. Finally, I was referred to a dermatologist who immediately contacted my primary doctor, telling us that I needed to be in the hospital. Needless to say, I was scared. We all thought the flesh eating disease was back again.

I spent 67 days in the hospital. For a month, no one seemed to know what I had. The only sure thing was that I didn't have the Necrotizing Fasciitis back again. Ultimately, the "scabs" spread from my right thigh to my left thigh, up to both hips (with the right hip being worse), and onto the part of my abdomen that hadn't had the flesh eating disease.

I had several surgeries to remove some of the "scabs" and dead tissue, skin grafts on part of both thighs, and a modified tummy tuck on the right abdomen to remove the scab and dead tissue that was there. That resulted in my abdomen being made "even" since the flesh eating disease surgery made me lopsided.

My diagnosis was Diabetic Fat Necrosis. My plastic surgeon thinks that pockets developed as a result of my rather speedy water weight loss. My thighs are almost completely healed with only a few small areas on each one left to heal. My abdominal incision is still partially open about 2 inches and healing.

So far, I think I'm doing alright. I'm still afraid to do some things because I don't want to injure my belly where it is still open. I am having a little bit harder time bouncing back this time. I am trying hard to take care of me; although since I'm finding myself still tired alot, it isn't always easy to do.

I am now all healed from the Diabetic Fat Necrosis. Oddly enough, it didn't take as long as it took for me to heal from the Flesh Eating Disease. During this entire time of me battling several very serious illnesses, I was also dealing with bladder problems. They started with recurrent then chronic bladder infections. Ultimately, I ended up incontinent. I had to carry protective pads whereever I went. I also had to find out first thing where the restroom was wherever I went. I slept with protective pads, protective underwear, and protective under pads and still woke up soaked. To say it was frustrating is an understatement.

In February, 2005, I ended up in the hospital severely dehydrated with my diabetes way out of control. Shortly before then, I had to find another primary care physician because the one I had stopped accepting my insurance. The dehydration was so bad that one of the doctors actually thought I was on dialysis. Thinking back, it is odd (in my opinion) for someone to end up dehydrated in the winter time. They never said what caused the dehydration, but I think it might have been caused by the water pills I'd been taking for the heart failure. I was also hesitant to drink too much of anything because I was running to the bathroom too much as it was.

Anyway, while I was in there my new doctor put me in contact with a Urologist, the sixth one I'd be seeing. He looked at as many of my old test results as he could find and ran some of his own. His diagnosis? Only one of two surgical procedures would solve my problem. Turns out my bladder is in really bad shape. I'm not sure why but I'm sure all the poking and proding didn't help. So I had a choice to make. I could either have my bladder removed and a new one made from intestinal tissue (where I would have to learn to use my abdominal muscles to void or catheterize myself) or get an external bad. I didn't like the possibilities involved in the first procedure, so I chose the second (which is a reversible procedure). I'm glad I did. It's been a Godsend. And with all the medical advances going on, there's always a possibility that they might come up with a great solution to my messed up bladder. Now I can actually go anywhere I want and not worry about finding the restroom or having an accident.

Both of my children are now college graduates. My daughter got her degree in Psychology and now works for Easter Seals. My son finally decided on a major. Philosophy!!!!!I have no idea where he plans to take that degree except that he had no desire to teach, which is the possibility most people mentioned when I asked them about it. The are now both living together in a house near Rutger's main campus. Of the two, I think I'll worry more about my son. He is smart, as I have mentioned, but doesn't seem to have any idea in which direction he wants to take his life.

Also, and unforutnately I don't remember exactly when but know it was sometime after my bout with flesh eating disease, we had to put our oldest cat, Tammy, down. It was sad and so hard. But she had developed major blockage in her bowels and paralysis in her one hind leg. She was such a great cat that we just couldn't let her suffer anymore.

My husband has had a rough few years, too. He was suspended from his job for a brief time last year then laid off for the summer. Right now, he is suffering from major depression and is currently on disability. It's been a good four weeks, probably more, and I am still waiting for the first disability check. I'm not used to this. He used to get quite a bit of overtime and made great money. I would just pay the bills when they came. And if we needed anything, we could just run out to buy it. Now, we are actually down to our last $100 and I'm beginning to think about going back to work. I haven't worked in a normal job in more than ten years and don't even know if the skills I do have are good enough to get hired. Another understatement? I'm scared. I stopped teaching oil painting some time after I had flesh eating disease, so I don't have that anymore. But that really didn't pay enough to live on. Talk about starving artist!!!!!