Over the years, a lot has been told me (by warring sides of my family), and I've tried to piece the events together as well as possible.
What I know is that Mom didn't believe I was sick and waited two weeks before she took me to Dr. Scott "to prove (I) was faking," to quote her.
The events, transpiring from the time we arrived at his office, led to the discovery of meningitis – in the latter stages – and Mom was told I wouldn't live more than two weeks. Every time I've been in the hospital, Dad was told not to expect me to live to go home, but I am still here.
In 1999, Dr Fick was forced due to my health problems to repair the shunt he'd installed in 1997. That led to the Staph Infection, which was his reason for not repairing the shunt as soon as they found the problem.
When I was released from the hospital, I came home, couldn't go back to work, couldn't do a lot of things I had before and, later, ended up spending most of my days at my wife's office. In time, however, I began to improve and, in November 1999, I had my first seizure, which caused Dr Spiegel to say he was amazed I hadn't had one, 29+ years before.
In the past 10 and a half years my problems have worsened. Memory dysfunction has become worse and my balance has as well. I've spent the majority of my days at home, because disability isn't what some people might think it is. I spend a lot of time writing and hope to, one day, publish a book in which I have a character, who lost a hand to meningococcal septicaemia.
Gary William Frazier