In 1997, a falling steel plate at work injured my leg above the left ankle.

In spite of treatment, the wound would not heal, and I was hospitalis-ed with a serious case of pulmonary embolii, which meant that a blood clot had travelled from my leg wound to my lung, causing lung damage.

The wound above my ankle was attended to, I was put onto warfarin, an anticoagulant drug, and I was discharged from the hospital.

Unfortunately, the wound worsened; and, at my next visit, the doctor said that I had developed necrosis over a considerable area of my leg. This meant that some of the nerve and tissue cells had died because of the damaged blood supply to that area.

He speculated that, even before my injury, I probably had poor circu-lation (the beginning of diabetes).

By November 1998, after a year of suffering, I had a darkly discoloured wound above my ankle that was deteriorating daily, in spite of all sorts of medical treatment. To my horror, the doctors said that there was nothing more that they could do; and that if gangrene set in, this would necessitate amputation of my leg.

On 11 November 1998, for my records, I took a photograph of my leg (see picture).