My eyes filled with tears as I looked at my husband, Rob. ‘I’ll understand if you want to leave me,’ I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.
As I gestured to my body, ravaged by sepsis and now missing three limbs, a fresh wave of emotion hit me.
When I’d woken up at our South Wales home with a cough three months before, in April 2016, I’d thought I was coming down with a chest infection. Even with all of my training as a nurse, I never dreamt it would develop into a life-threatening infection I’d barely survive.
I was breathless, coughing up dark-coloured phlegm and, despite usually being an active person, I’d had to return home just 15 minutes into a walk with our dog, Harriet.
‘I need…
