Tiffany Storm

At 21, I was living an average (well, maybe better than average) life. Lots of friends, going to school, and enjoying every minute of it.

One night, after a bowling adventure with a group of friends, I laid down for the evening and was woken by severe pain in my side. I took some over-the-counter pain relief assuming it was some soreness from the fun. But, it kept me awake for the majority of the night. I just continued to take medicine, and eventually it subsided.

Over the course of the next few days, I just felt “off.” I ended up with some flu-like symptoms and treated myself accordingly. I hadn’t at all connected the pain I had felt previously with the symptoms I was having.

After 3 days of getting progressively worse, I laid awake all night unable to sleep. I was jittery, anxious, and just felt like something was very, very wrong. The following day, I went to the local urgent care center.

By that point, I was so ill they moved me immediately back to the exam rooms. They were unable to find my pulse; it was so weak it couldn’t be felt. My blood pressure was so low they assumed it wasn’t registering. Immediately, they instructed my mom to meet the ambulance they were calling at the hospital.

I was taken in to the ER… and most all I know from this point is what I have been told. By this point I was so sick and weak that I do not remember any of it. My clothes were cut off like I was a character in a drama series on TV. The doctor was ordering drugs to slow my severe tachycardia, while the machines behind showed a heartbeat so weak they simply told my mom to “prepare.”  IV‘ed and unsure, I was moved to ICU.

The ICU doctor knew exactly what to do and immediately he started me on the drug that saved my life. For two days, I watched my family and friends prepare for me to die. They stayed by my bed around the clock, doing everything they could to make sure I was comfortable and happy – everything from brushing my hair and bringing pictures to my room to painting my toenails.

I suffered septic shock, the most severe form of septicemia. I had failure of multiple organs and didn’t realize how hard I had fought for my life until I had gotten released from the hospital. The suspected cause is a urinary tract infection. (Sepsis and Urinary Tract Infections)

Today, I don’t take anything for granted. I live every single moment cherishing the gift that it is. I am healthy (for the most part) and have a beautiful son who is nothing short of a miracle. If I could tell the world one thing about sepsis, it would be that we are just as much fighters, survivors, and dreamers as those with diseases that are more worldly known and charitably funded. The difference is that most of the time, sepsis shows no outward signs. It’s a battle fought on the inside, but we can be just as ill. My inside fight killed sepsis, and it won’t ever stop fighting for those who lost the battle.