Christine C.
Can you imagine waking up in ICU, being informed that you had been on life support for a month and that you almost died and having no memory of how you got there?! It sounds like a nightmare but is the reality for many people surviving septic shock.
In the spring of 2013, I had not been feeling myself for a while. I had an infected blemish on my face and recurring bronchitis. On May 16th I was playing tug of war outside with my dogs when one accidentally nipped my left hand. I properly cleaned and disinfected the tiny break in the skin – there was no pain or redness so I thought nothing further of it.
On Tuesday, May 21st I went for my usual morning run but didn’t get around the block before I was forced to return home, winded and light-headed. I felt fine after my shower but by the time I arrived at work I was feeling dizzy, and then suddenly nauseous. I went home and slept on the couch for the rest of the day. My son woke me when he came home from school to tell me I was breathing oddly. I assured him I was fine and went back to sleep. I woke up five hours later at about 8 pm feeling agitated, confused, and sweaty, but very cold.
I went to urgent care as something clearly wasn’t right, but I arrived five minutes after the doors were locked and promptly burst into tears, which was out of character. I wanted to go to the emergency room but I felt so weak that the thought of sitting in an overcrowded waiting room for hours was unbearable. A friend offered to drive me to emergency first thing in the morning so I went home and to bed.
I woke up about 11:30 pm that night, feeling nauseous and with a terrible pain in my stomach. I began to vomit and was up most of the night with severe flu-like symptoms. I felt as though if I fell asleep I would not wake up.
On Wednesday, May 22, 2013, at 7 am I walked into the local community hospital. I handed my health card to the attending nurse and immediately collapsed.
In the blink of an eye, my life changed forever.
My family was given little hope that I would survive. I woke on June 13th to learn that I had been intubated for just under a month and that I had been transferred to a second hospital. I’d been battling very rare but deadly capnocytophaga canimorsus bacteria from the dog nip. The bacterial infection had shut down my kidneys, which I was told would require ongoing dialysis. I also had damage to my nose, palate, and upper lip. I was advised that all four of my limbs would need to be amputated if I wanted to survive.
Having always had dogs and have had more serious bites in the past, I couldn’t understand what had happened. And, honestly, at this point, I wasn’t sure that “surviving” was the best option for me or my family.
A few days prior to the first surgery, my right arm seemed to improve: vascular circulation was detected, and with that came the news that I could keep my hand! That news gave me the spark of hope I so desperately needed to keep going.
A few days post-amputation of my legs below the knees, I spiked a fever and suffered respiratory failure, and was returned to a ventilator. I had urgent surgery to amputate my left arm just below the elbow and debridement (to remove infected or dead tissue from the wounds) as well as a lung biopsy. Post-surgery my kidneys began to function on their own at 35% capacity each.
Sepsis and septic shock were finally explained. My bronchitis had turned to walk or atypical pneumonia (an infection of the lower respiratory tract). It was this condition that compromised my immune system resulting in the reaction to the bacteria capnocytophaga canimorsus – which rarely affects humans – and sepsis then set in. Raising four children and having lived overseas I thought my infection knowledge was good. I had never heard of sepsis.
I was given no information about my sepsis or post-infection recovery at discharge. Any necessary follow-up would be coordinated through the rehabilitation center to which I was discharged on July 8th, 2013.
During my first weeks of rehabilitation, I was honestly broken. The reality of the level and permanence of my injuries felt insurmountable. There was nobody like me at the rehab center…my life, my plans, my hopes, and my dreams crumbled. I suffered some very dark days. I could not get my mind around life with so many limitations. It is not something you can even begin to fathom!
My doctor arranged for a peer visit with a fellow sepsis survivor. This young mother of three, a quadruple amputee, walked into my room unassisted, wearing a sundress and carrying a purse, and able to operate her cell phone. She changed the playing field for me. I still do not have the words to express my gratitude for the strength and light she brought me that day.
I worked hard. I took my first steps in prosthetics at the end of July, one month after amputation, and was walking unassisted by September. I was doing really well until early October when the tips of my fingers on my remaining hand began to self amputate and my hair began to fall out in handfuls. I experienced the sudden onset of nightmares, night sweats, nausea, appetite, digestive issues, fatigue, unexplained anxiety, and speech issues. I was treated for PTSD but symptoms persisted for months and some for many years.
I started to speak publicly about sepsis and sepsis awareness in 2014. At a presentation in Nova Scotia, I met another sepsis survivor who had found so little information on sepsis that she created a sepsis awareness page on Facebook. Not only did she become a great friend, but we also created Sepsis Canada Support, Canada’s first sepsis support group for survivors and family members.
The global sepsis community has come a long way since 2013, but we still have much to do in the areas of public education and research, for faster identification and advancement of treatments to ensure better patient outcomes.
I had never heard of sepsis and yet it kills 11 million people globally and disables hundreds of thousands of others every year. We need to advocate and educate because sepsis does not discriminate!
Christine with Winter's the dolphin's prosthetic tail.