Coping With Meningitis

I was 18 months old when I contracted bacterial spinal meningitis. When I was found in an un-used downstairs bedroom and could not be awakened, my parents rushed me to the hospital emergency room. The year was 1962. The doctors gave a very poor prognosis and admitted me right away. I do not know what kind of drug treatment I was given- unfortunately there are no records I can look at for the information. Because of the poor prognosis and since they were convinced I would die, the doctors completely avoided my parents, turning around and walking the other direction down the hallway if they saw them. I was given up for dead. I remained in a coma for a week. My mother was holding a plastic toy clown with a tinkly thing inside of it, rolling it around in her hands when I awoke and reached out for it. My parents were told they could and should expect: brain damage, crippling, blindness, deafness, or any combination of these. By the grace of God I had none of these symptoms. I have all of my fingers and toes, the use of my hands and arms, feet and legs. My torso and the rest of me is fine, too. I am intelligent. I grew up with perfect vision, and my hearing is so acute it hurts sometimes. As I get older (I am now in my mid-forties) I see my memory fading, my eye-sight dimming, and my hearing going bad, but none of it is due to the meningitis. I have been greatly blessed by God.