Kimberly Gorton
It was 15 minutes before my morning meeting when I started feeling that all too familiar sharp pain in my lower back. Within seconds I was doubled over in pain and heading to the bathroom. All I could do was lay on the floor in the fetal position. I managed to call my mother and the only words I managed to get out was “kidney stone, emergency room, now!” (Sepsis and Kidney Stones)
I waited on the floor in the bathroom, moaning through agonizing pain as I felt the stone move lower and lower. By the time I got to the hospital the pain had become so unbearable that I starting vomiting and begged the nurse to get me into the next room so they could start the IV and get the pain meds going. They got me into the next available room and immediately started the IV drip. I could feel myself slipping away as the drowsiness side effect started kicking in. They ran the normal tests; blood, urine, and an MRI scan. Within a few hours I was sent home with prescription for pain and a prescription to help me pass the stone. Oh, and lets not forget the lovely “scoop” style strainer. You know, the kind you use to retrieve the dead fish in your fish tank.
The rest of the day and night are somewhat a blur. I remember vomiting a number of times and sweating heavily. I didn’t remember having this reaction the last time I had a kidney stone. The following day I passed the stone. I had one of those “I can’t believe something this small caused me to believe I was dying” moments. I put it in the container I was provided and shook it a couple of times. I felt more accomplished than I did when I gave birth to my daughter. I texted my mother (who was upstairs) “I just passed that son of a gun!” and got back into bed. Even though I passed it, I still felt awful, and I hadn’t stopped vomiting. I figured I just needed rest, and I fell back asleep.
When I woke up that evening I joined my mother, father, and daughter upstairs. I just didn’t feel like laying in my bed any longer. I parked myself in the recliner and my mother waited on me hand and foot, like many mothers do. At one point she felt my head and informed me I had a fever. She went and got the thermometer and took my temperature. It was one of those old style ones, with the mercury. So we waited, and waited, and waited. When she took it out of my mouth she just said “wow” and looked at me. “It’s 103.” She asked me if I felt I needed to go back to the hospital and I said no, I just wanted to stay up for a little longer then go back to bed. After ten minutes my mom look at me and said “no, we’re going back to the hospital. Your chart information says you have a high white blood cell count, but they didn’t prescribe you any antibiotics. I think you have an infection that is making you feel sick.”
She made a few phone calls and off we went to the downtown urgent care. I told her I wasn’t going to the ER because I refuse to sit in a waiting room for three hours. We arrived at urgent care and they got me in rather quickly. They took my temperature and my blood pressure. At almost 30 years old I still don’t really know what a healthy blood pressure is, so the numbers on the machine didn’t really mean much to me. But they meant something to the nurse. She told me the doctor would be with me shortly. Within a few minutes the doctor came into the room and told me there’s something serious going on and they couldn’t help me. We needed to get to the emergency room. She would make a phone call to inform them I was coming.
Once arriving to the emergency room (at a different hospital than the one I went to the day before) we got in within 15 minutes. They brought me into a tiny room that is used to take vitals. The nurse took my temperature again and my blood pressure. My temperature was still at 102 and my blood pressure was 70/40. Even with my lack of education of blood pressure, I knew THAT was a number you don’t usually want to see. The nurse got someone on the phone and told them they needed to open a room for me ASAP. The next 30-40 minutes are kind of a blur. I was wheeled into a room where they started IVs, hooked those sticky monitor things onto my chest, did an ultrasound of my kidneys, and got me in for an MRI. They did this all rather quickly. Faster than I had ever experienced before, which obviously scared me. The only time I had ever seen a nurse speed walk was when it was a serious situation. On a total side note: all my nurses were very beautiful, and the hospital staff I would see walk by my door were equally as good looking. I thought to myself “Am I on an episode of ER? Because there’s no way these are normal people. This hospital must require their employees to hold modeling contracts before they’re considered for employment.”
Okay, back to me dying. When I returned to the room my mom was waiting and the nurses left. We watched some TV while I laid there, allowing the antibiotics to really get into my system. Then good looking “main actor” type doctor walked into the room and looked at me. First thing he said was “Good news! You don’t require surgery.” WHAT?!? I was in jeopardy of needing surgery? This was news to me. He told me I was very, very sick and I shouldn’t expect to go home for a couple of days. Then he said it. He said the words I had never heard before. SEPSIS SHOCK. Huh? What is that? Little did I know, this term was going to be front and center in my life for quite a while. He told me if I had gone to bed like I wanted, I probably wouldn’t have woken up. You see, little did I know I had a kidney infection when I passed the kidney stone. When the kidney stone moved it created small scratches that allowed the infection from my kidney to get into my blood stream. The first hospital I went to apparently missed the high blood cell count, so they failed to prescribe an antibiotic. The infection was able to run rampant through my body for 36 hours before the treatment started. The doctor also casually mentioned that I was in acute renal failure. Kidney failure. No biggie.
The next four days were spent on the 5th floor of the hospital. I had a room with a view of downtown. It was beautiful. At least it was when I was awake. Because of the infection, I lost my appetite I had stopped eating and I had no energy, so I spent most of my time sleeping. I don’t remember too much of my time at the hospital. But I do remember hallucinating. That scared me. I would see people in my room that weren’t really there. I was told that was common for sepsis victims because of the high fever. They also had me on a potassium pill that gave me the worst metal mouth I’ve ever experienced. It even made water taste horrible.
I was released from the hospital on a Friday afternoon and immediately went to bed. During this whole time my husband was attending the police academy in Seattle, which is on the other side of the state from where I am in Spokane. He flew in that evening and to be honest, I don’t remember much about the weekend he was here. I was exhausted, I slept most of the time. When I left the hospital I was given pain medication and the same antibiotics that are used to treat anthrax. I blamed my brain fogginess on the pain medication, so I stopped taking it.
The next few weeks were filled with highs and extreme lows. At night I would have night sweats so extreme that I would soak the sheets. The fogginess I blamed on the pain medications got worse. It’s so hard to explain. I would take a shower and I knew I needed to grab the shampoo bottle and squeeze the shampoo out of it. But it wasn’t a fluid motion. I had to think about every single move I made. Something I had done everyday was now something that required a great deal of energy. I remember one time trying to blow dry my hair and ending up on the bathroom floor because I lost all my energy. It’s like my reflexes were gone. When you have an itch, you scratch it, usually without even thinking about it. Well when I would have an itch, I would have to think to myself “okay Kimberly, you need to move your hand.” When you have to consciously think about every single move you make, it’s exhausting.
A week after I was released, it was Thanksgiving and my brother’s family was in town to celebrate the holiday. I think I did a good job at trying to act as normal as possible. But again, having to tell yourself to “be normal” isn’t normal. From the outside I looked just fine, but on the inside I felt like I wasn’t running on a cylinders.
My worst time came when I was alone. I would cry. I would get mad. I didn’t understand this. Something I had never even heard of was now taking complete control of my life. I spent a lot of time praying. One time my mom came in and gave me a hug and I lost it. I remember just saying “I want to be better.”
It took some time for me to feel like I recovered. Even a month after being diagnosed I was still having issues. (Sepsis and Post-Sepsis Syndrome) My thought process was still foggy and I lost my energy quickly. I started doing all the research on sepsis I could. I didn’t realize how deadly it was, and how close I came to only being a statistic. People around me didn’t understand it. Having a doctor tell you that your organs are failing and your blood is poisoning your body isn’t something you ever get used to hearing. It’s extremely scary. AM I GOING TO DIE isn’t a question you want in your head, and it’s not something you forget easily. To my friends and family I was sick, went to the hospital, got better, and I was discharged. If they only knew the daily struggles I had that lasted much longer after my release.
It’s been four months since my initial hospital visit. I can honestly say I feel 100% back to my normal self. But I will forever be aware of sepsis, and how quickly it can take over your body. If it weren’t for my amazing mother practically forcing me to go to urgent care, I might not be here writing this today. I hope my story is able to help someone. It gets better. You won’t always be in a funk. You’ll be normal again.
I feel it’s also important to note that when I was released from the hospital I had a voicemail from the first hospital I visited. It was from a doctor asking me to return his phone call immediately, they were putting in a prescription for an antibiotic. I never returned the phone call.
