(New Year's Eve) December 31- I awaken to a very strange sensation in my body. It’s not pain, but I feel like there is a tornado whirling around inside my body, depleting me of all my energy.  It’s like a deluxe vacuum cleaning sucking the life out of a person. But oddly, I see my father’s image at my feet. I can’t tell if he’s trying to pull me out of my body or back inside. I had been thinking of my father days ahead of this incident. But one thing is for sure; I’m shedding a layer of myself, but where is it going? Many people have a spiritual experience with sepsis as they navigate the physical symptoms. Some can recount what they felt. 

I yell to Larry to call an ambulance which he does.

They arrive and want to know why I’m on the bathroom floor. I try to explain to them how I’m feeling. They don’t appear to be taking me seriously. My vitals should have told the story. 

I am transported to a hospital which shall go unnamed and placed on a gurney along with the other poor souls in pain, some bleeding, moaning, waiting for triage. 

The paramedics talk amongst themselves. “ Did you hear the Grace has a wait time of 30 hrs ?”  Well, I must be in the right place. It won’t be over a day to receive care. 

7.5 hours later, still on the hallway gurney, with only blood work done, and no vital sign monitoring at all. I’m feeling significantly worse. 

I ask the triage nurse how long to wait - no idea. “Is it safe for me to leave?” This is my litmus test. She is not going to allow me to depart if for any reason she feels I’m in danger.  I’m completely wrong! “ Leave if you want!” I can hardly walk. I go to the waiting room and lie on their floor. She sees this and doesn’t object to my departure. Security wants me off the floor. Larry thinks I’m insane to depart. But we go home. 

Once there, I’m worse. I can’t urinate so I feel my kidneys are shutting down. What the hell is wrong with me? “Larry! Call another ambulance!” He is bewildered by my decline. 

They arrive and finally someone sees what others missed. They place me inside the ambulance, radio ahead and I hear, “Incoming 64-year-old woman with perforated bowel and septic for hours now. Get OR ready for urgent surgery!”

“Sepsis”. I’ve heard of that. It’s the infection that kills you quickly. Perforated bowel - I have no pain or my brain doesn’t feel it. I’m dying and fast. 

Once we arrive at the hospital, I’m rushed, and I mean, rushed into this urgent prep room for emergency surgeries. 

One surgeon says to me: “Do you know how severely ill you are?” My reply: “That’s why I came back!” She states: “You would be dead in 2 hours.” Then she suggests I call my children - not a good sign. 

There was something in my head whilst waiting in the hallway on those gurneys that said you won’t get care this way. Go home and maybe another ambulance will detect the issue because I know it’s serious and I don’t have many options. In the end, going home and getting ambulance #2, saved my life. Otherwise, I’d have passed away on that hallway gurney. There were no guarantees. I was just lucky that my instinct panned out. What a medical system where a woman who can’t walk and is ready to pass out is told to leave if you want! 

I don’t remember much after that. Apparently, I did have a FaceTime with both kids. 

Post surgery, I was essentially placed on life support for 11 days. There were some complications with possible pneumonia which didn’t happen. Your body is getting pumped with the strongest antibiotic cocktail. Your entire being is fighting to get ahead of the infection. The surgery was 4 hours,  while poor Larry had to wait alone but he knew our kids were on their way. 

I feel badly for what my family witnessed in the ICU. I’m in a coma with tubes everywhere. Unfortunately, there was an episode of projectile bile from my stomach which they witnessed. 

Hospitals don’t want you taking your own meds. So, they decide what cocktail you should have plus it’s the cheapest generic variety as a cost saving measure. 

I feel strongly about this. This really threw my equilibrium off seriously. But I am vulnerable and must advocate for myself. I hardly had a voice, as I was intubated so long. 

Then came the challenge of eating and drinking. No one put me on an IV. I dry wretched for a month plus and lost 20 pounds. 

I was discharged way too early with severe dehydration. After one night at home, I returned to the hospital. 

People hear about sepsis, but I now recognize how vitally important it is for us laymen to know the symptoms, as this beast acts very fast to rob you of your life. 

A single diagnostic test for sepsis does not yet exist. Doctors and healthcare professionals use a combination of tests and immediate and worrisome clinical signs, which include the following: The presence of an infection. Very low blood pressure and high heart rate. Increased breathing rate.

https://www.yalemedicine.org › sepsis

But those aren’t the only signs of sepsis. 

Prior to the episode, I had a weird sore throat that came and went every other day. Covid check and bacterial infection tests came back negative. 

In addition, I must comment on ostomy bags. You wear it to stay alive. There is a stigma about these. Of course, there is a major adjustment in wearing one but the patient also has to change their diet. No salad or uncooked vegetables. They want you on a low fiber diet. 

Fortunately, my surgery is reversible. I have acclimatized myself to it. It will not hinder me from enjoying life. To me, it’s no different than an insulin pump. 

You can go septic from a paper cut to more serious conditions. In my case, it was a bowel perforation. 

This was a wake-up call. The recovery is long but doable. 

 The survival rate from septic shock is only 30-40%. It must be caught early. 

You can’t buy health. And, navigating an overtaxed medical system makes survival more challenging. 

Don’t take life for granted. For me, those 2 hours bought me time to cherish with my family.