After years of worrying about this moment, and days filled with its dreadful stench, Olive was finally glad to see the wretched thing go. Nothing could have prepared her for the pain it had brought. Funny, she'd never imagined how glad she would be to see it off, if only to end the agony. No one had ever mentioned the accompanying delirium. Nurses had seemed to grow steely claws and doctors' teeth disappeared into their nasal hairs. The daily sponge bath had been murder. Olive remembered feeling convinced that they were trying to kill her. They had seemed to attempt to rip out her insides. All the while her hands flapped and her throat shrieked. Like a crow. Like a harbinger of something sinister. If she sat back and thought about it, the whole situation was slightly sinister. It was the ultimate acceptance that all was not right, to finally let go of something so precious. However, Olive was surprised at how relieved she felt, once it was gone. She no longer had to drag that dead weight around, like a fleshy ball and chain. There was still some pain, but the hospital staff had assured her that would pass with time. Only a slight phantom itch might remain. No more marathons for Olive, but she was alive. She flopped up the edge of the bedclothes and looked at the bandage. It felt unusually clean. All the rotting flesh was gone, now. Olive tried to wiggle her toes. Nothing. She cackled. No more toes. She kept forgetting. Nothing but a stump, now. With a long breath Olive said a final goodbye to memories of her old leg. Then she rolled over on to the leg she still had, and went to sleep.
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WRITING EXERCISE: Write about a parting.

wow.
still digesting this one on an emotional level--too much so to comment analytically.

but, wow.

Merci, mon ami.

That was comment enough.