Peggy Peery

I have just observed my 1-year anniversary for surviving sepsis. January 30 2015, I started a typical urinary tract irritation so I popped my Uristat and enjoyed dinner with my daughter-in-law and granddaughter. The next morning we flew to San Jose to treat my husband for his birthday. We landed and went to the beach then stopped to have lunch in the sun. It didn’t taste great to me and I just didn’t feel up to par. We checked in to the hotel and I took a nap. I woke up a few hours later freezing cold and snuggled in for the night thinking I might have the flu. All night I was freezing and shaking violently. I remember begging my husband to hold me closer because I was so cold and him saying “you are not cold, you have a temperature.” It was a rough night and I knew this wasn’t typical. That morning (Sunday) with help of my insurance, we found an outpatient facility. The simple process of being a passenger in the car exhausted me. I wanted to sleep but couldn’t quit shaking and riding in the car hurt my body. Thank goodness the frequent urination was gone (or I thought it was good at the time).

After my urine sample, they left me in a room and I remember wanting to lay down on the floor. I didn’t care if it was clean – but cared about what would they think when they came in? The doctor entered and said I had a UT infection and asked which antibiotic did I want? (Sepsis and UTIs) When I was perplexed and said one that will work, he wrote me a prescription. I told him my symptoms then because he hadn’t asked and they were different than previous infections. The shakes, fever, rapid pulse, short of breath, back pain, nausea and my entire body hurt. I didn’t know it – he should have. This were on the list for sepsis alarm. He said I would probably feel worse before I noticed improvement just give it a few days, then sent me on my way.

Apparently I was not as bad as I was behaving and just needed to buck up. Over the next few hours we got the medicine, picked up a few things and returned to the room where I took another nap. I woke up late in the evening and my husband tried to get me to eat. Two bites and I was done, nothing tasted good. I took my pills and went back to sleep. Another bad night and by early morning, I told him I wanted to go home. The Seahawks were at Super Bowl and every flight from San Jose to Seattle was sold out. We were stuck until the next morning. That evening things turned worse. I now was vomiting and had horrible diarrhea and still SHAKING uncontrollably – those 3 together was not a pretty picture nor an easy task. I couldn’t eat or drink anything and just had to wait for morning so I could go to my doctor. It had only been 3 days, what was going on – was it a kidney infection? On the short walk to the terminal I stopped multiple times and said I wanted to lay on the concrete and cry. I did not know WHAT I felt or why I was being such a baby. Thank goodness they let me on the plane and didn’t notice anything – the great pretender I am.

I slept the 90-minute flight without incident (note I NEVER am able to sleep on planes) and upon landing my husband drove me straight to the doctor. The nurses took my vitals, got the doctor immediately and she told me to lay on the table. I then mentally let go and knew she would get me the right medicine or help I needed. There were shots, papers, everyone talking and another HORRIBLE car ride (only 10 minutes to ER) and then blurry, blurry, blurry.

At the ER, they began with vitals and then quickly admitted me. There was increased back pain, tossing in the gurney and gripping the bars- my entire body hurt and I couldn’t tell where the pain originated. I saw they were very concerned about my vitals and the level of pain so started me on morphine. I thought they would just make this better so I could get back home to rest. People in-people out, moving rooms. More people, lots of talking, I saw my husband a couple times following us and trying to stay out of the way and it confused me. Continual vitals, multiple monitors strapped on me, multiple IVs hooked up in both my arms, more shots, taking blood over and over, me shivering violently, them saying the fever is too high- bring ice packs and me whining that I was too cold for ice and to stop it the fever would go away on its own. This cycle continued for several hours, which later I learned was several days. I would have lucid moments where I could talk and even text making light of everything, but even then I was a little confused albeit annoyed that I was still in the hospital – what day was it anyway? The fevers just kept on and on. I remember all too well “she’s 105.5 again, we need ice” – no I’m too cold….. At the time I had no idea what this type of temperature would do to my organs and how they were trying to save me.

The day I asked what the shot was for (there had been dozens in my belly and it hurt!), I knew something was changing. Before this I didn’t care what they did except bringing those dang ice packs. Then the questions started, why was I on a heart monitor, what does this monitor do, what were all these IVs for, why was I isolated…. It was the beginning of my education about sepsis and what my body had done to me in a quick 72 hours. Thankfully I didn’t trust what the first doctor had said, but followed my intuition to get home. I didn’t have his few days to spare.

Recovery has been long but I am blessed and I know it. The health issues I have will be with me always, perhaps as a reminder of what I went through and how fortunate I am. I have the opportunity to share & help educate those around me only because I AM a survivor.