Amy Lewis

In February 2025, while visiting family in Dallas, Texas, I suddenly developed what seemed like ordinary indigestion—an upset stomach that I thought would resolve with a good burp. I tried mints and TUMS, but neither helped. When someone suggested Alka-Seltzer, I drank one dose and then a second when the first brought no relief. That decision only worsened the situation, severely bloating my stomach and intensifying the pain.

My cousin drove us the full 18 hours straight back home to Kannapolis, North Carolina, stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. I rode in the back passenger seat while my husband sat beside me, propping up my feet. The windows remained cracked letting in the cool air because any attempt to sit upright caused me to pass out. Every bump and pothole sent excruciating waves of pain throughout my entire body. My husband urged stopping at the nearest hospital, but I insisted on pushing through to reach my own bed.

When we finally arrived home, walking from the car to the front door was extremely difficult. Even with my husband’s support, I moved one agonizing slow step at a time. I lay down in bed but lasted less than an hour before my husband insisted on rushing me to the ER. By then I was unable to walk at all, so I asked for a wheelchair. My blood pressure had crashed dangerously to 75/45, and I was admitted immediately. What began as seemingly harmless indigestion rapidly progressed into life-threatening severe sepsis caused by Strep A bacteria that entered my bloodstream. (Sepsis and Group A Streptococcus)

Doctors believed I likely inhaled droplets from a carrier who sneezed nearby, or touched a surface that a carrier had touched since I had no open wounds or obvious entry point. My condition deteriorated quickly. My body began shutting down as my organs failed. I was intubated and initially received over thirty bags of IV fluids, antibiotics, and pain medication.

Doctors pumped large amounts of fluids into me in an effort to raise my blood pressure. My feet turned black due to poor circulation. My husband, thinking they were simply dirty, rubbed them and watched the color briefly return to a normal pink before they darkened again once he stopped. Doctors warned that amputation might become necessary. Because I was retaining so much fluid, they started a twenty-four-hour slow dialysis. This later continued three days a week for four to five hours per session, leaving me completely drained for the remainder of that day and the next. I also required a temporary pacemaker wire to my heart. When it was removed, the wire sliced an artery, causing me to bleed into both lungs and requiring chest tubes on both sides. During this ordeal, I endured multiple X-rays almost daily. The hard slats shoved under my now very bony backbone were extremely painful against my frail body.

I lost forty pounds and my appetite disappeared entirely. I started watching the clock obsessively knowing the time was drawing near for a meal or medications. Taking medication became a dreaded ordeal. Swallowing even the smallest pill or bite of food often triggered severe nausea and vomiting, which caused my heart to stop for up to twelve seconds at a time. Doctors eventually implanted a leadless pacemaker—smaller than a triple-A battery—to maintain a minimum heart rate of fifty beats per minute. It now activates less than one percent of the time, but it gives me confidence that I will not pass out again. I spent ten weeks in the ICU as my kidneys, heart, and lungs recovered, followed by three weeks in rehab.

During my stay, I developed a second case of sepsis from an IV port in my arm that had been left in too long. (Sepsis and Invasive Devices) This sent me back to the ER with two different types of bacteria. I had to relearn how to walk and how to write. Since then, I have worked diligently to rebuild my muscle strength while also giving my body the rest and grace it needs to heal. Hallelujah, I am now off dialysis, but I still have stage 3B kidney disease. It is improving ever so slowly. My nephrologist has told me that anything is possible, as he has never seen a case quite like mine before.

I still deal with PTSD and occasional nightmares from the experience. I am grateful that heavy sedation with propofol and Fentanyl during the worst periods means I have little memory of those darkest hours. There are many photos and videos from that time that I am not yet ready to view. My doctors were amazed by my recovery and noted that it was a very good thing I had been in strong physical shape and good health before the ordeal. They said my prior fitness played a significant role in helping me survive.

I survived only by the grace of God and His miracles and the hundreds of prayers from family and friends. This experience strengthened my faith and gave me a powerful testimony. I continue dealing with lingering effects like reduced stamina and the need for ongoing healing, but I am alive today because of divine intervention and incredibly dedicated medical care. One day soon I plan to write a full book about this journey. This is my story of surviving sepsis—twice.