John Lewis

It was the late evening of Thursday 14th of January 2010, and my dad was finally being taken to hospital. I was overwhelmed with relief when the ambulance crew said they would take him straight to hospital, until I overheard the word “septicemia” being said by one man. I didn’t have a clue what septicemia was nor how serious it was, but for some reason I got a really bad feeling.
My dad’s name is John. He was 54 years old, completely healthy, didn’t smoke or drink (apart from special occasions), was a healthy weight and had never had any sort of health scares before.

On the 10th of January 2010 my dad and I were in his car driving back home when he complained that he was feeling shivery and cold. By the time we got back home he went straight to the couch to lie down as he was feeling quite unwell. It was winter so we both shrugged it off as the cold. I went to college the following day and later came home to find him still on the couch looking significantly ill. He told me he’d been unable to eat as he felt so bad. I gave him paracetamol, some water and made sure he was comfortable in bed that night before I went to mine.

At about 1am that night I woke to hear my dad being violently sick in the bathroom. This shook me up as I’d never heard him be sick like that before. When he came out the bathroom I was waiting for him and as he emerged I almost fainted with worry at how terrible he looked. His skin was yellow and sweaty and he was shaking like mad. He told me he had gotten out of bed to go to the toilet but he got really dizzy and everything went black. He had woken up on his bedroom floor, unaware as to how long he’d been lying there. He seemed extremely confused.

I wanted to phone an ambulance but he was very stubborn and told me not to, that he wanted to go back to bed and see how he was in the morning. As he went back to bed he was limping, he had hurt his ankle.

On the Tuesday I didn’t go to college because I was so worried. I got up to find him on the couch gasping for breath. His ankle was unbelievably swollen and he couldn’t walk. His whole body was aching and I couldn’t even help him to the toilet because it was so sore to lean on me. He was crawling to the bathroom in agony. I wanted to phone an ambulance again but he said no but eventually agreed to at least phone the NHS 24. They sent out a doctor that evening.

The doctor came, took his blood pressure and heart rate. His blood pressure was very low and his heart rate very fast. She said she was unable to diagnose whether he had broken his ankle or not. She said he was suffering from flu, gave him a sick line from work for a week and prescribed him co-codamol. I went to the chemist the following day to get his co-codamol but it got rejected as the doctor had given us an out of date prescription. I phoned her and she managed to get in contact with the chemist and I picked up the co-codamol.

Despite taking the 30/500 co-codamol, my dad was in even more pain the next day, hadn’t slept since the Saturday night and still had to crawl, screaming in agony to the toilet. He was being violently sick and having diarrhea. His skin was even more yellow and sweaty and he had acquired a swelling around his left elbow and arm (which I now know was cellulitis). My dad decided to keep taking the co-codamol for another day and see what happens as this was what the doctor had told him to do.

I tried to get him to eat by making toast and getting energy drinks to try and perk him up, but none of this helped, he couldn’t hold anything down. He was struggling to breath properly and was getting frustrated as he couldn’t sleep due to the pain he was experiencing.

I awoke on Thursday morning to find my dad on the phone to NHS 24, he was panting as he was trying to get words out. They sent an ambulance straight away. I thought, “Thank god! He will finally get the treatment he’s clearly been needing.” I was very, very wrong. The ambulance arrived just before 7am. The two men came in and I told them everything that had happened. They both looked at us as if we were stupid and told us the doctor was right, he just had the flu.

I stood in absolute disbelief, thinking I must be asleep and having a nightmare, as the 2 ambulance men (after spending about 5 minutes talking to us) walked out of our house without so much as taking my dad’s temperature.

I thought “Right! A doctor and 2 ambulance crew say he’s going to be fine, they must be right! Calm down!” My dad told me to take the dog out the room because he didn’t want her to catch anything from him and make her unwell, he was the most selfless man. I spent the next 4 or 5 hours running about after my dad, getting more energy juice, ibuprofen etc, trying to get him to eat, and running errands.

I went for a sleep as I was absolutely exhausted and had hardly slept myself. After 2 hours I got up and went to check on my dad. I will never forget this moment, walking into my living room to find my dad on the couch absolutely gasping for breathe and unable to talk, looking confused and dazed, as though he just wasn’t there at all. He tried to tell me he couldn’t breath out his nose among other things, but it was making him choke so I told him to be quiet and I’ll get an ambulance.

Within minutes the ambulance was here, the men were really nice but when they took one look at my dad they said “we’re taking him to hospital right away.” I was so glad that my dad would finally get proper help. I hated seeing him like this. They had to sit him up to get him in a wheel chair to take down the stairs and into the ambulance. He let out the most horrible scream as they sat him up, he was in so much pain. And my dad was normally so brave, I was terrified. One of the men took my neighbour and me in a car and we followed the ambulance to the hospital.

My dad died 2 hours later. Diagnosis – overwhelming sepsis. How he became septic in the first place was unknown at this point but tests done after he passed showed that he was infected with Streptococcus group A bacteria, which is easily treated with penicillin.

The doctors in the hospital gave my dad aggressive treatment but it was too late. They told me there was no reason why the ambulance crew that came that morning shouldn’t have brought him into hospital, and that if they had, he would have had a good chance of surviving. That ambulance crew seemed more interested in when their shift ended.

I miss my dad so much every day, it still isn’t real in my mind that he’s gone. He was the most amazing father, I couldn’t have asked for any better, and what’s more, he was my best friend, we had done so much together. It angers me so much to the point I want to tear my hair out that this ambulance crew didn’t take my dad seriously, they must have been deaf and blind!

I just don’t understand how one day, someone is with you, singing in the car, and then four days later, is gone.