There were murky, interrupted memories of doctors bent over his body, and dreams of trying to help his students.

During his six-week coma, Christian Zyp sometimes dreamed of going back to Holy Trinity High School to help stage the play he had spent months preparing his students for. But there was always something that stopped him.

Christian Zyp was in a coma for six weeks. (Trina Heron)

He was in the University of Alberta Hospital, unconscious, his organs failing after a sudden infection caused a rare meningococcal disease. At first, doctors didn't know what had made him so sick. They didn't know whether he would live.

They couldn't save his legs.

Both were amputated near the knee after the infection restricted blood flow through his body. His right thumb was amputated, too.

But the veteran drama teacher, actor and playwright, film festival board member, DJ, and bi-weekly CJSR radio host, kept thinking about that play — the one that was supposed to hit the stage two weeks after he fell seriously ill.

'Like a map of the world but with scars'

Zyp was watching the Academy Awards with his wife, Trina Heron, on Feb. 28. He had felt flu-like symptoms for much of the day and, to make things worse, his Oscar picks were tanking.

By the end of the awards ceremony, Zyp felt very sick. His heart was pounding and breathing was difficult. Zyp, 44, had never felt that ill, so he went to the hospital, thinking doctors would give him a needle and tell him to relax.

But when nurses admitted him immediately, Zyp and Heron knew the situation was serious.

The next six weeks are blurry for Zyp. His wife and others have filled him in on much of what happened.

"I was falling further and further into this hole of sickness," he says from a room at the Glenrose Hospital, where he has lived since June. "My kidneys are failing and everything else is happening to me, and the doctors are trying to figure out what exactly is happening to me."

Christian Zyp spent months in hospital after his diagnosis, losing two legs and a thumb to the bacterial infection. 1:33

At the Glenrose, Zyp wears special gloves that extend up his arms. A layer of skin from his back has been expertly grafted onto his arms and legs and, like a burn victim, the wounds are vulnerable to infection.

"It's like a map of the world but with scars," he says of his body.

Neisseria meningitidis left Zyp's scarred and vulnerable to infection. (Christian Zyp)

The official name for the infection is Neisseria meningitidis, which causes meningococcal disease. There are about eight cases every year in Alberta.

If the bacteria gets into the blood — sometimes it attacks the lining of the brain — it can cause organ failure. It can also cause "circulatory collapse," says Dr. Judy MacDonald, a medical officer of health with AHS.

The bacteria in the blood produces a toxin. The body reacts by restricting blood flow in the body.

That's what happened to Zyp's legs.

'It was about survival'

Despite the drugs and the fog of illness, Zyp was somewhat aware he was sick and doctors were trying to help him. There wasn't a single moment when he suddenly woke up and realized his legs had been amputated.

"I think I kind of knew, and then I looked and they were gone," Zyp says. "I don't think I ever had a great deal of anger or resentment. It was about survival. I remember feeling this is what had to happen in order to survive."

Now, survival is about more than keeping his heart pumping for one more night. It's about learning to walk on prosthetic legs, to ride a new bicycle, to make a fist or grip a knife to chop carrots.

A timeline of Zyp's recovery, put together by his wife Trina Heron. (Trina Heron)

Zyp's first job at the Glenrose was to develop strength in his legs and core muscles. Before you can put on prosthetic legs, you need to be strong.

In a video shot 136 days after he first felt sick, Zyp is standing between two handrails at the Glenrose, a physical therapist beside him. He's wearing a Captain America T-shirt and mismatched shoes.

'It's harder than you imagine it would be,' Zyp says of learning how to walk once more. (Trina Heron)

It takes 10 seconds for him to rise from his wheelchair. He grunts from exertion and exhales deeply when he reaches full standing height. He stood up four times that day and took his first steps the day after.

"It's harder than you imagine it would be," he says. "What was automatic is no longer."

' His room was always open '

At Holy Trinity High School, Zyp was the driving force behind the annual theatre production. The 30-odd cast and crew members were two weeks from staging Night of the Living Dead when Zyp got sick.

"Mr. Zyp was doing everything, from costumes, to sets, to the rentals of the equipment, to directing us, to helping stage our fight scenes, and teaching us how to hold props properly, and how to act like zombies properly," says Lorraine Pacistol, a cast member who graduated in June.

Students and staff alike supported Christian Zyp in whatever way they could as he worked to recover. 1:15

Zyp's young cast waited eagerly for updates about their teacher. (Christian Zyp) But the play still had a long way to go. The sets were barely made and some cast members still hadn't memorized their lines. When students were told their theatre teacher was sick, many cried. They also met and decided to continue with the show. They thought it was what Zyp would have wanted.

Night of the Living Dead is zombie comedy, and Zyp clearly loves the genre. At one of their first meetings, the students read the script and watched the first movie.

"He couldn't stop talking about how amazing it is," Pacistol recalls.

The cast and crew prayed for Zyp before each performance of the show.

"Everyone loved Mr. Zyp," Pacistol says. "His room was always open, for drama advice or even if you just needed to talk to him."

'Incredibly humbling'

But Zyp's connection with the theatre community extends far beyond the halls of the south-side high school. He's a playwright and actor, sits on the board of the Edmonton International Film Festival, and hosts a show about Canadian cinema on CJSR.

His circle of friends and admirers have jumped up to help. His wife has kept the group posted on his progress through a Facebook page, where people have shared support, well-wishes, fundraising news.

The outpouring of support for Christian Zyp has been "incredibly humbling," he says. 1:16

"It's incredibly humbling to have so many people who want to reach out and help you," says Zyp. "Whether it's a visit, or something positive online. But I have a problem accepting it, partly because I still don't see myself differently or better or stronger than others."

On Friday and Saturday, the Deleted Scenes show will happen at the Black Dog Freehouse on Whyte Avenue, with proceeds to Zyp and his wife.

Last week, Zyp went to the Edmonton International Fringe Theatre Festival. It's familiar territory for a lifelong theatre guy, a place where he has typically reviewed or performed. This year, his wife snapped a photo of him sitting at a table, crutches on the ground, his prosthetic legs fitted with matching blue runners.

"You've gotta walk slower and you can't have beer," says Zyp. "But just to be able to go, you feel incredibly lucky to do things you couldn't even consider five months ago."