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Tony & Beth’s Story: A Call to Break Down Silos

snovakowski — Tue, 14 Sep 2021 22:16:05 +0000

Tony & Beth’s Story: A Call to Break Down Silos

Sepsis cannot be addressed by a single scientific or healthcare discipline. Care for critically ill patients is complex and requires team members from across the health provider spectrum. This can include those in emergency medicine, critical care, surgery, oncology, transplant and a variety of other disciplines. Yet silos in our health system can reduce the quality of care experienced by patients and their families, both in-hospital and post-discharge – and this experience can be magnified for indivuduals with existing medical challenges or conditions, as Beth & Tony’s story highlights:

Our journey is not a straightforward tale of 'life before sepsis --> sepsis --> create a 'new normal''. Tony is a lung transplant recipient and we were beginning to readjust to life after the transplant in Victoria when he was struck by a car and hospitalized two years ago. Due to his status as a transplant recipient, he was transferred to a hospital in Vancouver, where he developed sepsis due to a perforated bowel. We’ve since learned he was a prime candidate for its development due to his immunosuppressed status.

Tony was in the hospital for 6 weeks. He experienced significant delirium while in the ICU and it remained even back in the step-down unit. I was asked a number of times when his last colonoscopy had been – despite this being done at the same hospital. He was discharged back to Victoria without a GP and without prescriptions for pain medications, and it took us 2 weeks to find appropriate care from a local rehabilitation center, as the only referrals we received in Vancouver were located in Vancouver. While he was in the hospital, he received an ileostomy (surgical opening between the small intestine and abdomen), due to the bowel surgery. Unfortunately, after discharge I couldn't look at the wound without becoming light-headed and my inability to help Tony when he needed it is still a point of pain for me. We both felt unseen and unsupported. I honestly don't know how we got through that time. We certainly aren't unscathed.

Due to the emergency with his perforated bowel, his bone fractures were put on the back burner and he has lingering, sometimes shooting/debilitating pain in his left shoulder that radiates up into his left ear. However, this is only the tip of the iceberg. Tony now feels like a different person – with chronic fatigue, cognitive issues (poor recall, issues putting sentences together, remembering words), and unprovoked and constant anger now regular parts of his life.

Unfortunately, our story hasn’t ended here. In 2021, he was once again hospitalized for a hernia repair surgery (after his previous ileostomy had been reversed and subsequently herniated). His planned 2-day stay led to a 9-day stay after he had aspirational pneumonia and I heard the word ‘sepsis’ again in the ICU. Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I wasn’t allowed on the first ward he was placed on during the first 24 hours after surgery. I could only contact him by phone and it took me a number of hours to notify hospital staff that his belongings - including his phone - had gone missing. When I was able to speak with him I found he was not doing well because his pain wasn’t being controlled. The surgical team hadn’t wanted to refer Tony to the Complex Pain Team in the hospital because his stay was only supposed to be 2 days and the pain team apparently takes 3 days to respond.

During this time Tony was in the worst pain of life, even telling me he would have jumped out the window if he could. It was on this ward that Tony aspirated while trying to eat lying down and developed pneumonia. It was a relief to both of us when he landed in the ICU and received the care he needed.

Our story is one of navigating a healthcare system that is massively siloed, and can overlook the mental health or social supports that are integral to the lives of patients and families. We are still chasing down diagnoses for his cognitive issues and the fact he sleeps most of the time. Tony is also now on his 4th primary care provider in Victoria in as many years - his last GP and his new NP are not equipped or supported in dealing with the many aspects of his care. We respect the frontline health workers who are supporting patients like Tony – but also hope that by sharing this story we can drive progress on policies and practice that improve patient-provider communication, break down silos and support improved follow-up care for those who need it.

snovakowski Tue, 09/14/2021 - 15:16

Patient Story

Miryana's Sepsis Story: Experiencing Sepsis While Living Off the Grid

admin — Tue, 10 Aug 2021 22:09:13 +0000

Miryana's Sepsis Story: Experiencing Sepsis While Living Off the Grid

It was May 2017 and I had not been feeling well. I knew I had pneumonia, I was prone to it, even in the summer months. I was breathing shallowly and trying to stop my coughing fits. My breathing was raspy and it hurt. I was freezing cold and then I sweat out soaking the bed. I was dehydrated, or so I thought because I was not using the washroom much. All signs of Sepsis I later found out. I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for Friday, the very next day…

My husband worked in camp and had been scheduled to work that weekend. He, as usual, left very early Thursday morning for the weekend. Somehow, Thursday evening he heard a truck was going out, so out of the blue, for no reason, my husband decided to hitch a ride and come home for the night instead of staying in camp.

He arrived about 7PM and right away knew something was wrong. It had been a blistering hot day and he found the doors all shut and the dogs going insane inside. When he came in, he immediately noticed coffee had not made that morning and ran to the bedroom. I was sitting up in bed, blue and completely unresponsive. He called 911. On the way to the hospital the EMTs were trying to revive me. We were luckily met by a second ambulance responding to the call. An EMT jumped into the ambulance I was in, and she was a whiz with the respirator. Thank God because I crashed. I am forever grateful for the angels we call First Responders because they did not give up on me and were finally able to bring me back to the living.

In emergency, doctors ran all kinds of tests not understanding what happened. I was blue and nobody understood what was going on! I was transferred to the city hospital by ambulance, with my husband frantically in pursuit. I was there only a few hours before I was air lifted to Vancouver General Hospital (VGH). And again, my husband exhausted and worried beyond words drives the long trip to Vancouver to be with me. VGH was the only hospital in BC (at the time) to have an extra corporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) machine which was pivotal in saving my life. I was in complete organ failure and induced coma. I was hooked up to every kind of machine possible including the ECMO machine. My lungs had collapsed, my heart and kidneys failed, other organs were also affected. I suffered blood clots and thrombosis that nearly killed me again. I was FINALLY diagnosed with Septic Pneumonia.

Drowning. Septic pneumonia. Oh God, drowning in your own fluids is the scariest, most horrific feeling I have ever, ever felt in my life. They put a tube down my throat to suction the fluid and my eyes scream in terror for someone to please help me because I’m drowning. I’m terrified. There is nothing I can say to describe it. And still to this day I wake up in a sweat having a nighttime terror attack that once again I’m drowning while still alive.

The doctors told my family that chances are I’m not going to make it. Yet my family held the one hand they were able to hold, whispered whatever words of encouragement and love that they did, kissed my brow, and somehow.... somehow, I must have heard them. Because luckily, I came back to them. I was in a coma for 3 months. I spent a total of 6 months in hospital. I required 3.5 months in rehabilitation to learn how to walk again. I was readmitted with infection 3 more times. The only good thing that came from all of this was, when being readmitted the third time, I finally was assigned a doctor that “listened” to me! She said “Let’s figure out what’s causing the infection because I don’t want to see you in the hospital anymore.” The cause of the secondary infection was a tooth that had been crumbling. This caused me no discomfort as both the tooth and root were dead. I was prescribed some very strong antibiotics that I had to take for over a month before I could have the tooth removed. I have not since had a reoccurrence or been readmitted.

A few years before all this, my husband and I made our dreams come true and bought acreage in the little town and built our off-grid cabin in the woods. We even living in a converted shipping container while my husband completed our log cabin. It was a 15 year dream that we discussed over and over again, and now our dreams were suddenly crushed. Everything has fallen onto my husband’s shoulders and it is a heavy burden to carry. As Post-Sepsis Syndrome is not well-characterized, or wll-known, we do not have supports and have lost many friends. I feel they don’t understand the new me and are tired of all the stories that have come with my experience. I’ve learned not to burden family and friends with the true version of my days and nights. I suffer from PTSD, mental and physical pain. I have been left with polyneuropathy and I am permanently disabled. Because of Sepsis, I am forever changed.

admin Tue, 08/10/2021 - 15:09

Patient Story

Fiona's Sepsis Story: From the onset of sepsis to life after sepsis

snovakowski — Wed, 05 May 2021 23:59:15 +0000

Fiona's Sepsis Story: From the onset of sepsis to life after sepsis

Before being admitted to the hospital:

It has been nine years almost to the date since my sepsis story began in Spring 2012. It was a beautiful Saturday, much like today. My youngest son was bouncing on the trampoline in the backyard. I was watching him, gardening, and laughing at his antics.

I suddenly felt very ill, mainly nauseated and dizzy, but not in a way I had ever felt before. I told my husband I was going to lie down. Ten minutes later, I was shaking and shivering violently. My husband put a thick duvet on top of me and tried to still my body. Eventually it subsided, but we decided I should go to emergency because it had come on so fiercely and suddenly.

I was seen fairly quickly at the hospital, and blood and urine samples were taken. I wasn't shaking anymore and just felt generally unwell. It was several hours before the doctor saw me, and by then my urine results had come back. He said that my white blood cell count was slightly elevated and suggested perhaps that I had a mild UTI. Familiar with UTI symptoms, I doubted this and told him so. He then suggested it could be a virus, possibly a norovirus and to go home and rest. He didn't think I needed antibiotics.

We went home. We ate dinner and I began to feel very sick, along with severe stomach cramps. Two years previous, our family contracted norovirus and were extremely ill for several days. I thought perhaps the doctor had been right because the cramping and gastrointestinal symptoms seemed similar to how I had felt with norovirus.

Several days passed and I did not improve. I was vomiting, had diarrhea etc. I had a fever. I couldn’t eat. But still, I remembered how sick I had been with norovirus and thought it just had to run its course. I tried to get up now and again, and one evening even joined the family for dinner. I drank Gatorade. My husband said later that he thought those were signs of improvement. Yet, I could barely walk, and he once put a chair in the shower just so I could wash and have the water run over me. He had to carry me to the shower. This clearly was not a sign of improvement. By the sixth day, I thought I should go to a clinic, but I was so weak and was worried I was contagious. I called the Healthline. The nurse on the phone agreed that my symptoms were worrying and that it would be good for me to go to a clinic and be careful about transmission. She did not suggest, however, that I go to emergency. In my mind, this meant my condition was not too serious. I had stopped vomiting and the diarrhea had subsided. I felt so terrible and was so weak, I just couldn’t imagine how I would sit in a clinic waiting room.

The next day, other symptoms began to emerge. I was covered in a full-body rash and I was in pain—deep, aching muscle and joint pain. I assumed the rash was because of my fever and the pain because I had been lying in bed for a week. However, by the eighth day, the pain was so intense that even lying down was excruciating. In the afternoon of the eighth day, I asked my husband to call an ambulance. I remember him saying he would look for the non-emergency number and I remember telling him that it was, in fact, an emergency. I believe that I had finally understood something was seriously wrong with me and I needed medical care urgently.

When the ambulance arrived, my husband helped me down the stairs. I’m not sure what he had told them, but the paramedics arrived wearing masks and gloves. Commonplace now in COVID, but not in 2012. I assured them that I wasn’t vomiting etc. I think because I was “ambulatory,” the paramedics did not put me on a stretcher; instead, I sat in the back of the ambulance. All I remember is how excruciating every turn and bump of the road was, and I remember praying we would just get to the hospital so I could get some pain relief. Every second was agony.

At the hospital:

When we arrived at the hospital, I was wheeled into a triage area. It seemed an eternity before a nurse came. I had made it to the hospital but a part of me wondered if I’d get treatment in time. While we were waiting, the paramedics wondered if my rash and pain were due to shingles. I had had shingles before too, so I also knew that wasn’t accurate, but I couldn’t even speak at this point. I think if it weren’t for the pain, I would have already passed out. When a nurse did appear, she seemed flustered and wanted me on a bed immediately. I was unable to move. Somehow, the paramedics and nurses got me on a bed, but even trying to lie flat was excruciating. In the minutes that followed, it seemed like every doctor, intern, and nurse in emergency had rushed to my bed. There was a lot of activity and shouting for things. They were desperately trying to get an IV inserted, but no one could find a vein. I could barely tolerate the pain and I think I was also starting to hallucinate. Mercifully, somehow the IV was started and morphine was administered. One of the doctors kept asking my pain level out of 10 after each dose. It took several doses before I could say my pain level was at or below 10. At some point, another doctor appeared with the results of my blood test the week previous, results no one had checked or followed up on. It was confirmed: I had Group A Streptococcus in my blood. Preparations were made to move me to another hospital for treatment and surgery.

I don’t remember all of what happened over the following few days, but through some personal recollection, texts, medical records, and family stories, I have pieced much of it together. The infection had ravaged my body. I was told in those first few days that my survival was not guaranteed; it all depended on my response to the massive amounts of antibiotics being pumped into my body. It depended on my body being able to form white blood cells. In my weakened state, I had also developed a secondary staphylococcus infection. Those days I think I was mostly in a delirium. I was also quarantined and not just a little terrified.

I believe it was day three or four that my body began to make fully-formed white blood cells. I was stabilizing. However, as my first surgeon made clear, without removal of the infected tissue etc., I would not recover. They had scheduled an appendectomy and hysterectomy, but hoped a full hysterectomy would not be necessary. Thankfully, in the end, the surgeon removed my appendix, one ovary and a fallopian tube, along with “scraping” other infected tissue from my uterus and surrounding area. Unfortunately, this was just the first of several medical and surgical interventions required over the following couple of weeks.

The infection had also built up a thick fluid around my lungs that was compressing my left lung in particular and putting pressure on my heart. For several days, I had to undergo a procedure which was extremely painful—although I was told by the specialist that it “shouldn’t hurt so much.” I honestly don’t know what it was called, but I think it was something like a pleural tap. I started to get quite anxious when they would take me down the hall for the procedure. Apparently, whatever they were trying didn’t work, and I was scheduled for a thoracostomy and moved to another hospital.

The thoracostomy involved the debridement of my lungs and the insertion of three chest tubes into the pleural cavity, each tube about one inch in diameter. The tubes spent the following week helping drain the infected fluid from around my lungs into a bag on the side of my hospital bed.

After discharge:

A month from when I first got sick, I was back home. There were other interventions, such as a blood transfusion, and later, treatment for C. difficile long after I returned home, a common occurrence after significant antibiotic treatment.

I was obviously relieved to be alive, out of the hospital, and back home with my family. But I didn’t understand then that it was just the beginning of a long road to recovery, one I am still travelling.

Sepsis decimates your body, affecting every system. I had to sleep for several hours every afternoon for the first year post-illness. I needed regular iron infusions. The skin from my feet and hands peeled off for months. My hair fell out in massive clumps. I cut it as short as possible, praying it would start to grow back. Eventually it did. My joint and muscle pain made, and still makes, climbing stairs difficult and continues to wake me in the night. My teeth lost density. These things were all bad enough, but the PTSD was by far the worst.

Truthfully, I think I was in denial over the magnitude of my PTSD. I cried frequently. Yelled at my husband, also frequently. Even blamed him for what had happened. Had nightmares, some actual night terrors in which I was being cut up or having limbs amputated. Sleep paralysis. I was angry. I was paranoid. I had initiated a lawsuit against the emergency doctor who had first treated me, and whom the College of Physicians and Surgeons had found “responsible” for the “failure in my care.” I imagined I was being followed by investigators watching to prove I didn’t suffer from any long lasting effects. The irony.

I was also terrified I would become septic again. My GP was very sympathetic, but not until I had requested all my medical records from that time did I see his note diagnosing me with PTSD. I no longer suffer from those extreme PTSD symptoms, but I do often feel anxious in medical environments, and even writing about my experience here is triggering. As most of us know, there is little or no follow up, outside surgical or laboratory follow up, for sepsis survivors. No post-sepsis clinic to ensure a best possible recovery, or to offer mental health support. From my experience, the sepsis survivor is left to navigate the lasting physical and emotional effects on their own.

I have now accepted that I will live forever with joint and muscle pain, along with situational anxiety. I sought treatment for years, but after dozens of tests, CTs, MRIs, and specialists, I realize there is no obvious cause, and nothing really relieves the pain. I stay very active, which helps with strength, endurance, and flexibility, but some days I am reduced to tears from the exhaustion of battling pain. Since my illness, I’ve had odd physical things happen that take me to emergency. One time, my right arm suddenly started swelling, accompanied by extreme back pain. Doctors could not find a cause. I’ve been told more than once by doctors that sepsis survivors have “weird things happen.” This does not inspire confidence. Something that does bring me hope is new research into post-sepsis syndrome and also its shared characteristics with “long COVID,” or post-COVID syndromes that are emerging. With so many COVID survivors, this could lead to a breakthrough in understanding these syndromes better and identifying treatment and “therapeutic opportunities” for all survivors.

So, this is my long sepsis story. We still don’t know the source of my infection. It is true that my life will never be the same, but I will end on a positive note: almost dying inspired me to follow a dream that, beyond my family, has become the most rewarding adventure of my life. I do not take that, or a beautiful spring day, for granted. Ever.

snovakowski Wed, 05/05/2021 - 16:59

Patient Story

Shannon's Sepsis Story: A Sepsis Hat Trick

snovakowski — Thu, 11 Feb 2021 01:42:57 +0000

Shannon's Sepsis Story: A Sepsis Hat Trick

I’m a survivor of a hat trick of septic infections.

It started with a ruptured appendix in 2011. I had just started a new job and didn’t want to call in sick, so I went to work until I collapsed from septic shock.

The appendicitis started on Saturday night at a dinner party. I got violently ill & thought I had food poisoning. I spent the night on the floor in our bathroom. When I finally came to bed, I could barely stand up straight because of the belly pain. Even when I got to our bed, I assumed the fetal position. My husband took me to the ER on Sunday where I was diagnosed with the flu. Monday, I went to work an ashen grey. Tuesday, my appendix ruptured in the afternoon. In hindsight, I felt momentarily better & thought the worst was over. Wednesday, I remember calling my husband & telling him I felt like I would pass out soon. He told me to tell my boss, who finally took me to the hospital around 11am.

The triage nurse instantly took me serious. The problem was I had no temperature & my blood work was fine. At least I was on a morphine drip. Weeeee!

My triage nurse was going home & saw me still sitting in the ER. She was shocked to still see me there & immediately notified the doctor. When they finally looked at my CT, the doctors couldn't tell if my appendix or right ovary had ruptured. 30 min later I was in the OR.

I never got better and next went my gallbladder. On December 23, 2013 I started having seizures and vomiting and bee lined to the hospital. This time it was sludge in my common bile duct. I was treated and discharged on December 27th, but returned the next day with sepsis. I was so weak I could barely stand up & had a fever. I spent 18 days over Xmas and New Years, mostly in the hospital hallway. That was a tough one.

I had read that once you get sepsis, your chances of getting it again are increased.

That beast laid in wait until July 12, 2019. It presented like kidney stones and I was screaming in pain with a high temperature. I had so many doctors, imaging, blood tests, trying to find the source of this episode. At best, the diagnosis was gastroenteritis, or the common flu.

I feel so full of gratitude. Somehow, I gained enough strength to tour, perform, & even received a Nomination for the Juno Awards in 2018. I got to live out my best life after & during circling the drain 3 times.

I’m 48 on a geriatric diet, but once in a while, I can still sing my heart out. Life is silent these days as I'm currently on Day 933 of a soul sucking migraine. Is it related to Post-Sepsis Syndrome? Possibly…I definitely struggle with PTSD, anxiety, depression, insomnia, fatigue, poor appetite, & I have an eagle eye for the next organ dysfunction.

I don’t know why I’ve been spared 3 times now, but I have this huge sense that I’m meant to do more.

I have learned to trust my intuition & my “go time” symptoms. The survival instinct is strong and will keep you here if you listen!

Health & Love,

Shannon M.

snovakowski Wed, 02/10/2021 - 17:42

Patient Story

Andy's Pneumonia Story: More Than Just a Cold

snovakowski — Mon, 16 Nov 2020 01:22:12 +0000

Andy's Pneumonia Story: More Than Just a Cold

What I thought was just a cold became a severe life-threatening infection with long-term consequences.

It all started with some shortness of breath and phlegm. My thought at the time was, ‘it's just a cold,’ and ‘time will heal.’ I had been dealing with a number of other issues at the time: lymphoplasmatic lymphoma, and nerve issues stemming from neuropathy. I was used to things being a bit off with my body. But when the symptoms progressed and I was no longer able to sleep comfortably through the night, a nagging voice told me something was wrong.

I addressed the ongoing respiratory issues with my specialist doctor at the time, twice. The first appointment the doctor assessed the breathing issues as nothing serious and said that they would pass with time. So I returned home with some solace. However, the symptoms continued. After waiting for natural relief and trying to ignore the realities of my own increasing pain, I returned to my health provider. At the second visit, I once again voiced my concern at the persistent and increasing symptoms. Once more, I was told to rest and prop myself up with more pillows to ease the breathing difficulties.

From there on, the symptoms became insidious. Moving around my apartment slowly became enough of a burden that I was consciously deciding whether or not each trip was worth doing. When even the simplest of movements become difficult, I kept asking myself, ‘is this real, normal or the way this life should feel?’ At the same time, I was in denial after multiple reassurances from my doctor. But I continued to spiral. My breathing became difficult and laboured. My daughter insisted it was time to get me to the hospital.

My gradual decline was deceiving in its severity - with fluid in my lungs my heart was extremely close to shutting down. I ended up in the ICU for days. It was difficult to gauge time while lying in a darkened state in intensive care, connected to intravenous support for food and hydration as well as the regiment of drugs to rid me of this life threatening infection.

I was oblivious to the fact that my life was in an extremely perilous situation. I remained hospitalized for the next three weeks. The cursed retreat was a blur of blood draws, physiotherapy and wishes that the food they were serving was closer to what is really required for healing, ironically.

Recovery post-discharge was longer still, lasting for months. Physically, it has taken its toll and years later I still have never fully recovered. I never for a moment thought my life at 66 years would be so loaded down with the chronic complicated health issues I live with today.

Surviving pneumonia brought into focus for me the fragility of life, something I took for granted before this experience. Confusing the symptoms with my existing chronic conditions and valuing my doctor’s assertion that they would clear up on their own caused me to overlook and ignore my growing concerns about the seriousness of what I was dealing with. Live and learn, and trust your own instincts. There are no stupid questions and never too many second opinions when it comes to your health.

My advice for others is to not be too stubborn about asking those around you for help when you are in need, for your own sake and for the sake of those who love and care about you. And if you think those people don't exist, take a deep breath and think again.

snovakowski Sun, 11/15/2020 - 17:22

Patient Story

Ashley's Sepsis Story: Don't Delay Care

snovakowski — Fri, 13 Mar 2020 19:27:44 +0000

Ashley's Sepsis Story: Don't Delay Care

My name is Ashley and this is my sepsis story.

At the age of 28, I became a wife and a mother of 2 young children fighting for her life. At first I had no symptoms. Then everything hit me like a ton of bricks. I was severely cold, vomiting, hallucinating and had the shakes, but I shrugged it off as the flu. After fighting for 2 days I finally collapsed on the bathroom floor at home. My husband rushed me to the hospital where my blood pressure dropped to 50/20 and I passed out. After taking a urine sample, the doctors determined I had a UTI (urinary tract infection), leading to sepsis. At this point I was in organ failure and the doctor told my husband they didn’t know if I was going to pull through. I almost lost my life.

I was in the hospital over Christmas and couldn’t spend it with my children.

I will never forget the feeling of death. It’s something that cannot he explained. I remember lying on the stretcher in the emergency department, completely lifeless. People around me thought I was unconscious yet I was trapped in my own mind, still wide awake but unable to communicate this to anyone.

Don’t shrug it off like I did! Go to the hospital before it’s too late; without the care I received my husband could have been a widow and my children without a mother.

snovakowski Fri, 03/13/2020 - 12:27

Patient Story

Marie-Maxime's Sepsis Story: Saved by Timely Care

snovakowski — Thu, 14 Nov 2019 00:11:33 +0000

Marie-Maxime's Sepsis Story: Saved by Timely Care

I am a sepsis survivor. Let me tell you my story.

My name is Marie-Maxime B., a 41 year old mother of two. I was exclusively breastfeeding my 13 month old baby girl when I started having pain in my left nipple for about 3 days. It appeared that I had a milk blister.

On the third day, excruciating pain in the same breast woke me up in the middle of the night, followed shortly by fever. By mid-morning, it felt like I was fighting a bad flu. I was able to control my fever with acetaminophen and went to see my doctor that afternoon. Having arrived at the clinic, I took the stairs to the second floor as I always do. As I was walking up I felt so weak and the final step took an eternity. I gathered all my strength to make it to the front desk, stopping a couple times to sit down along the way. I was given a bed right away and shortly after, I vomited many times. My blood pressure was extremely low so the doctors made the decision to send me to the nearest hospital by ambulance. At the hospital, I was quickly given fluid resuscitation, which helped improve my blood pressure. It took a few more hours for the emergency staff to determine that I had sepsis, leading to septic shock - all stemming from a baseball size abscess in my breast. After 24 hours of observation, fluid replacement and antibiotics it was determined that I was stable enough to be transferred to the intensive care unit.

Stable means I’m good to go, right? Why the ICU? I had no idea that the aftermath of septic shock is multiple organ failure. The outcome is affected by how quickly the team gets the right treatment going and how the body responds to it. I needed the team of doctors and continual observation and treatment to deal with every issue that arose. In no time, I was in the beginning stages of organ failure. Substantial damage affected my kidneys, liver and lungs.

They were able to find out that I was fighting an invasive Streptococcal A blood infection. I vaguely knew what sepsis was when I was admitted to the hospital. I quickly found out that a survival rate of around 50% is associated with sepsis. Being that I was in septic shock when I arrived at the hospital, I was literally hours from dying. In addition to multiple organ failure, I had impetigo on my skin and developed an aspiration pneumonia from all the vomiting that happened. I stayed in the ICU for almost a week. After day 4 there was a substantial improvement in my blood markers and my vitals, and I was able to go home after day 6. Over a month of antibiotics and many doctor visits and tests followed.

I was so lucky. My organs recovered fully. I was spared from amputations which is common after surviving a septic shock. What saved me was my fast visit to the doctor, no hesitation in the transfer to the nearest hospital, my condition being properly identified, and receiving treatment in a timely matter. Unfortunately, not everyone with sepsis receives fast treatment or the right diagnosis. It’s imperative that people recognize the early signs so awareness is key. Know your body. Seeking immediate care is the most important factor. It saved my life.

I am still processing what happened. My energy levels are not what they used to be. A fear of getting sepsis again is omnipresent. The course of my life has been changed forever as well as having a new outlook. Living in the moment is the ONLY way to go and the “NOW” is the only guarantee we have.

« Turn your wounds into wisdom » -Oprah Winfrey

snovakowski Wed, 11/13/2019 - 16:11

Patient Story

Kirsten's Sepsis Story, Part 4: Healing Through Art

snovakowski — Thu, 03 Oct 2019 15:12:49 +0000

Kirsten's Sepsis Story, Part 4: Healing Through Art

"I decided to start making comics as an educational tool, for myself and for others going through the same thing." -Kirsten H., sepsis survivor. Read her full story here.

Learn about the emotional and cognitive symptoms of post-sepsis syndrome through more of Kirsten's comics.

snovakowski Thu, 10/03/2019 - 08:12

Patient Story

Kirsten's Sepsis Story Part 3: Healing Through Art

snovakowski — Mon, 30 Sep 2019 23:02:42 +0000

Kirsten's Sepsis Story Part 3: Healing Through Art

"I decided to start making comics as an educational tool, for myself and for others going through the same thing." -Kirsten H., sepsis survivor. Read her full story here.

Learn about the emotional and physical symptoms of post-sepsis syndrome through more of Kirsten's comics.

snovakowski Mon, 09/30/2019 - 16:02

Patient Story

Kirsten's Sepsis Story Part 2: Healing Through Art

snovakowski — Thu, 26 Sep 2019 23:43:23 +0000

Kirsten's Sepsis Story Part 2: Healing Through Art

"I decided to start making comics as an educational tool, for myself and for others going through the same thing." -Kirsten H., sepsis survivor. Read her full story here.

You can also learn about the cognitive and physical symptoms of post-sepsis syndrome through more of Kirsten's comics.

snovakowski Thu, 09/26/2019 - 16:43

Patient Story