The life story of Alex Lewis is like no other. This man refused to give up on his life no matter what it took, and today, he’s thriving with the help of his loving wife Lucy Townsend, and their son.
Alex and Lucy always knew they were meant for each other. When they married and welcomed their son Sam into their life, they felt like the happiest couple on Earth. But then in 2013, around the time Sam turned two, this family’s life took a different turn.
Both Alex and Sam caught the flu, or at least they believed so. However, as the boy got better in a short period of time, Alex wasn’t feeling fine even days after he experienced the flu-like symptoms.
“Because we owned and lived in a pub and came into contact with lots of different people, I assumed it was a seasonal cold and thought it started off as man flu,” Alex told Metro.
Instead of improving, his condition worsened and he became feverish and noticed blood in his urine.
As he could feel something was very wrong, he went to the hospital where doctors told him he contracted a streptococcal infection (type A). Unfortunately, at that point, the infection penetrated deep into the tissue and the organs and caused sepsis. Alex had contracted shock syndrome, septicemia, and necrotizing fascitis – and his body was attacking itself from the inside out.
“I called an ambulance, and within eight minutes, they were there. At the hospital, we went straight into resuscitation, and I was told to say goodbye. His kidneys were shutting down, and they were going to put him on life support,” his wife Lucy told The Guardian.
Doctors’ prognoses were dull. They told the family there was just a three percent chance that Alex would survive as his face and body turned black.
“They were going to turn my life support off, but they wanted to give me one more night to see if I improved, and they wanted to give my family a chance to say goodbye,” Alex told Metro.
“I cannot imagine what Lucy and my mum were going through.
“Having spoken to them since it happened, I think they were more in shock as they couldn’t believe something so incredibly invasive was happening so quickly,” he added.
“I don’t remember being in excruciating pain at this point, but my family remembers seeing me in absolute agony.”
It was determined that a flesh-eating bacteria was poisoning his body so doctors had to amputate his left arm up to the elbow. Sadly, as months passed by, Alex lost all of his limbs, and doctors were also forced to cut parts of his face in order to save his life.
“I can remember seeing my legs in hospital and how they were getting blacker and blacker,” Alex told The Guardian. “The blackness was creeping up towards my waist. I don’t remember seeing my left arm in that condition, but I can remember my legs vividly.”
As Alex lost his lips, plastic surgeon Alexandra Crick took skin from his shoulder in an attempt to fix his mouth.
“It would take me about an hour to eat a sandwich at night, and that was with the help of the nurse,” he told the Daily Mail.
“The last available skin for surgery was on my shoulder,” he explained. “So they replaced the temporary flap with that. All my other skin had to be used for grafts or was scarred.”
“Having my bottom and top lip done at the same time like this was a world first. It’s one piece of skin, and it was like if you imagine placing a bag in your mouth and then sewing around the edges. After the original operation, I had to have them every three or four months.”
Looking at his father, and how different he was, Sam was afraid to approach closer to him, but Lucy found a way to explain to him why his dad looked like that, which wasn’t easy as Sam was just two years old at the time.
After spending months at the hospital Alex could finally go home. The good thing was that doctors managed to save the elbow of his right arm which allowed him to have a prosthetic and be able to use his arm. Eventually, he could speak again as his lip surgery was a huge success.
“That one elbow is his whole independence,” Lucy said.
“I had to relearn everything,” Alex added. “From learning to eat, drink, put my clothes on, to learn to use a prosthesis, and to self propel a manual wheelchair.”
Today, Alex is involved in a number of tech projects which help ease the lives of disabled people. Among the rest, he has tested solar-powered, battery-assisted four-wheeled handles which have been designed by masters students at Southampton University.
Despite his condition, he’s living a quality life and is doing a lot of things, such as kayaking and climbing. In 2019, he climbed one of Africa’s tallest mountains using a specially adapted buggy.
“Since becoming an amputee, I’ve been fortunate enough to try out a number of training methods to keep my fitness up, working with physios and visiting the Help for Heroes training facilities,” he shared with Sports Management.
“I’ve had first-rate guidance, but nothing has been as effective as EMS training, especially in such a short space of time.
“It’s amazing how the machine helps me to engage muscles I haven’t felt since I lost my arms and legs,” he added.
“I feel stronger in training, daily life tasks are easier, and I’ve gained greater confidence that I can take on these challenges.”
His Wild Wheelchairs Project, besides helping improve the lives of disabled people, raises money to finance the construction and operation of a wheelchair manufacturing facility in Ethiopia.
Alex is also a motivational speaker who is happy with his life.
“I’ve lived more of a life in the past four years than I did in the previous 33, and it’s made me realize how much I love Lucy and Sam,” he told Metro.
“There was so much I regretted not doing when I had arms and legs, but I am not letting that happen again. I would not change anything, not in a heartbeat.”
Sam also learned to love his dad for who he is and is proud of him.
We truly admire this brave man’s resilience. His story is proof that no matter the curveballs life throws at us, we should always do our best to end up winners.
I Found My Daughter Sleeping in the Basement—Her Shocking Reason Will Haunt Me Forever
In-laws are supposed to help and support you, right? Well, not in my case. This is the story of how I got my revenge on Linda, who thought she could mistreat my oldest daughter, Tessa.
I have two daughters. Tessa is 10 years old and comes from my first marriage. She is kind, quiet, and always wants to make everyone happy. Sadie is 4 years old and is from my current marriage to Grant. Sadie is very different—she’s full of energy and always asking questions. Grant loves both girls, but his mother, Linda, has a different attitude toward Tessa.
Linda is… how do I say this? She’s the kind of woman who wants everything to look perfect on the outside. But if you look a little deeper, you’ll find someone who is judgmental and cold, especially toward Tessa. The worst part? It’s all because Tessa isn’t Grant’s “real” daughter.
For years, I tried to keep things calm. “She’s just old-fashioned,” Grant would say. “She’ll come around.” But she never did. Linda made little digs at Tessa.
Tessa, bless her heart, never complained. She just stayed quiet, maybe thinking it was her fault. But I saw it and heard it, and it made me furious every time. Grant? He didn’t see it like I did. He loved his mom and thought she was just being her quirky self. But I knew better.
Sometimes it was a rude comment about Tessa’s looks. “Oh, Tessa, that dress is a bit too grown-up for you, don’t you think?” Or she’d pretend to forget Tessa’s birthday and give Sadie lots of gifts instead.
Things started to fall apart after my mother passed away, and it felt like my world was turned upside down. There was no warning, no chance to say goodbye. My heart felt shattered in a way I can’t explain. I could hardly breathe through the grief.
We had to fly out of state for the funeral, which was the last thing I wanted to deal with. Every minute was a blur of sadness, but we had to think about the girls. My mind was so clouded with pain that even small choices felt impossible.
Linda, of all people, offered to watch the girls while we were gone. It was the last thing I wanted. I knew Tessa wouldn’t feel comfortable with her, and I hated leaving her with someone who never treated her well.
But what choice did I have? I was drowning in grief, and all our close friends were busy with their own lives. I felt so alone and helpless. It was either leave the girls with Linda or find another option, which felt impossible at that moment. Against my instincts, I agreed.
Three exhausting days later, we pulled into the driveway. The house was eerily quiet, almost too quiet. I felt a heavy weight in my chest as I got out of the car. Linda had left a note on the counter: “Took Sadie to the park. Be back later.”
A knot formed in my stomach. Something felt off. “Where’s Tessa?” I muttered, searching the house. I called her name, but there was no answer. My heart raced, and a chill ran down my spine.
That’s when I noticed it. A faint light flickering from the basement window. I stopped, confused. No one goes down there. The basement was old, dusty, and full of junk, and we barely used it. For a moment, panic set in. Had someone broken in? Did burglars get in while we were gone?
My heart pounded as I reached for my phone, turning on the camera just in case I needed proof. If someone was down there, I wanted to document it. I could feel my breath catching as I slowly opened the basement door, the musty smell hitting me.
My hands shook as I hit record and began carefully walking down the stairs, trying to calm my nerves. The wooden steps creaked under my feet, and every sound echoed in the quiet.
As the light got brighter, I finally saw her—Tessa. My sweet girl, curled up on the cold floor, wrapped in an old blanket, fast asleep as if she had been forgotten. Her little body was still, her face pale, and her cheeks were streaked with dried tears.
“Tessa?” I whispered, rushing to her side. I gently shook her, my heart breaking. “Sweetheart, what are you doing down here?”
Her eyes opened, and she sat up, looking small and defeated. “Grandma Linda told me to sleep here,” she said softly. “She said Sadie is her real granddaughter, and I shouldn’t get in the way.”
I froze. The room spun around me. “She what?” I asked, my voice shaking with disbelief and anger.
“She didn’t want me around,” Tessa said, her bottom lip trembling. “She said I could sleep down here, and she didn’t let me eat dinner with Sadie. She said they needed ‘special time.’”
I felt my blood boiling, anger rushing through me. My hands clenched into fists as I tried to keep my voice calm. How could she? How could Linda do this to my child?
But I didn’t explode. I swallowed my rage, knowing that confronting Linda wouldn’t fix this right now. I wrapped my arms around Tessa, pulling her close. “Tessa,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion, “I’m so, so sorry. This will never happen again.”
Linda had crossed a line, and she had no idea what was coming.
I wanted to drive over to Linda’s house and tell her off. But I held back. I realized that confronting her wouldn’t be enough. I needed to make sure she felt the weight of what she did. I knew just how to do it.
Linda’s annual family reunion was her pride and joy. Every year, she gathered the whole family and a few close friends in her beautiful backyard. It was her chance to show off and act like the perfect matriarch.
I didn’t let on that anything was wrong when Linda brought Sadie back later that day. I smiled and thanked her for watching the girls, even though my blood boiled inside. “I’ve been thinking,” I said, keeping my tone light, “Maybe I could help you with the reunion this year. I know how much work it is.”
Her face lit up. “That would be wonderful! It’s so much to handle, and the more help, the better.”
Perfect. She had no idea what I was planning.
Over the next few weeks, I worked closely with Linda to plan the reunion. I acted like everything was fine between us, all while planting seeds with family members. In casual conversations, I mentioned how Tessa had been feeling left out lately.
“It was tough while we were at the funeral,” I’d say, “especially when Tessa had to sleep in the basement. It’s a shame, but Linda wanted some alone time with Sadie.”
The responses were just what I hoped for—shock, concern, and some raised eyebrows. “The basement?” they’d ask, their voices full of disbelief. “That’s awful.” The gossip spread quickly, and by reunion day, people were already talking about Linda’s treatment of Tessa.
The day of the reunion came, and Linda was in full host mode. The backyard looked perfect, the tables set with her best dishes, and the smell of grilled food filled the air. Family and friends arrived, hugging and smiling. Linda soaked in the compliments, playing her role as the perfect host.
Then came the highlight of the day—the slideshow. I had put together a series of photos from recent family trips, showing the girls laughing and having fun. But in between those happy moments, I added clips of Tessa curled up on the basement floor.
The atmosphere shifted immediately. People went from admiring the cute photos to gasping in shock. I heard whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. “Is that Tessa in the basement?” someone asked. “Why would she be down there?”
I didn’t need to say a word. The photos spoke for themselves.
Linda’s smile faded as she realized what was happening. I could see her eyes darting around, trying to gauge the crowd’s reaction. Her hands fidgeted nervously as people began approaching her, asking questions and demanding explanations. She stammered, trying to brush it off as a misunderstanding, but it was too late. The damage was done.
Linda tried to defend herself, but no one believed her. Her reputation as the perfect grandmother and hostess was in ruins, and she knew it. The rest of the family saw her for who she really was now.
I stood back, watching it all unfold with satisfaction. Tessa was by my side, holding my hand, and I whispered to her again, “No one will ever treat you like that.”
As for Linda, she hasn’t spoken to me since that day, but honestly? That’s just the cherry on top.
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