Peggy Hamilton

On January 24, 2019, on my way to work, I stopped by my mom’s apartment to drop off some grocery items she asked for. We talked for a few minutes, I started her a pot of coffee, and left for work. Later, throughout the day, I talked to her by phone numerous times and she never mentioned being sick. About 5:30 that evening, I had a missed call from her and her voicemail left said she hurting in her stomach really bad. She called 911 and they took her to the emergency room that is only a couple of miles from her home. She spent a few hours there while they did test and scans trying to diagnose the problem. They finally determine that she has an ischemic bowel. (Blood supply cut off from her bowels).

She was rushed to the main hospital (30 miles away). She was there a couple of hours before they could get her into surgery, by this time we found out that the loss of blood supply to her large intestine has caused tissue death (gangrene). They said the surgery went fine, but took longer because they found that the blood supply was cut off because of abdominal scar tissue (adhesions) from past surgeries.

Her vitals were good and so was her white blood count, but she never regained consciousness after surgery. Saturday her condition was still the same, not better, nor worse, but by Saturday night they were noticing very little urine output and she was retaining a lot of fluid, although she was on a diuretic by IV.

By Sunday morning her vitals and her blood count were starting to show the signs of sepsis. They tried everything possible, but her organs were starting to shut down. She was in septic shock. She was 70 years old and already had cirrhosis, so her liver just couldn’t keep up with the demand the infection was putting on her. After talking with her doctors, we as a family had to make the hardest decision of our lives, and turn her over to in-hospital hospice care to keep her comfortable and let her go peacefully. So, we sat by her side, held her hands, and talked to her throughout the night even though we weren’t sure if she could hear us or not.

She looked so peaceful throughout the night and after 11 hours, (January 28, 2019) my mom took her last breath (only 4 days after her first symptom). It was just a small sigh, like she was glad it was over. I’ve read stories where some people that die from sepsis struggle until the end. I thank the Lord daily, that my mother’s story isn’t like that. Since her funeral, I have read hundreds of stories about sepsis, something you never hear of until most of the time it’s too late. My prayer is that the doctors, hospitals, or scientist find a way to detect these type of illnesses and infections and have more public awareness of this silent killer before any other family has to go through writing a tribute story about a loved one instead of one of survival.

Source: Lisa Long (daughter)