Shay M.

I survived sepsis 4 times in the last 9 months!

When I was born my mother, who passed away when I was 12, wanted to name me Crystal. But something told her no, Crystal breaks like glass. She just knew that her baby girl would need to be strong enough to survive life’s hardships, so she named me Shannon. Shay for short. She was told the meaning of my name meant Strong Woman Warrior.

My horrible ordeal all began when my daughter who was suffering a minor cold, sneezed directly into my face late August of 2017. I said to myself I am going to get sick. I had no idea how sick. We were at the tail end of wildfires in and near my city, and I remember about a week or two prior, I had mild lung irritation, but didn’t give it any thought. Fast forward to the next day after my daughter sneezed, I came down with the sniffles. But the minor cold she had, turned into what seemed to be the flu for me. I had all of the classic symptoms. Body aches and pains, fatigue, a terrible cough that wouldn’t go away. This flu lasted for a whole month. I was nearly bedridden. Because I had had the flu before and knew it could last a while, I decided to ride it out. (Sepsis and Influenza)

That would prove to be nearly fatal.

So for the whole month of September, I was quite Ill. But in October, even though I was terribly fatigued and had a dry cough that wouldn’t go away, I felt slightly better. Then one early morning, about 2 am, I began to get the chills. I thought maybe I didn’t have enough blankets on so I grabbed an extra blanket and cranked up the heater. My chills soon turned into rigors. When I read the temperature on the heater and it said 85 but I was freezing, I knew something was terribly wrong. Then suddenly, my heart began to race and I began to get delirious and started singing a weird song. I mustered my last ounce of strength to get dressed and dialled the ambulance. Although my tests were inconclusive, the doctors suspected that I had pneumonia. I was given several rounds of tests, and it was concluded that I indeed, had sepsis. I was given antibiotics, and sent home after 3 days, and felt perfectly fine. But the worse was yet to come.

Around 4 am on a cold November morning, I got a familiar feeling…chills. I again thought that I hadn’t had enough blankets, so I grabbed an extra one, and cranked up the heater. Again, my chills turned into rigors and the heater read 85. I knew exactly what was happening, but how could this be. I just had sepsis one month prior, there was no way I could have it again right? WRONG!

The ambulance rushed me to the hospital. Unfortunately, I had a very evil and nasty doctor this time who waited to treat me for sepsis. She didn’t believe I could be septic again. I waited 6 hours on a bed before I got my first round of antibiotics. I begged the nurse to please do something, I was dying. The doctor tested me for everything from lupus to HIV. When those came back negative, she had deduced that I once again, had sepsis. But how??

I have moderate lymphedema in both of my legs. My right leg suddenly swelled up twice it’s size the following day and I thought I was having a flare. Turns out, I had cellulitis and my bacteria cultures came back positive for gram strep G, a bacteria that lives on the skin. (Sepsis and Cellulitis) Any crack in the skin can cause this bacteria to multiply in the bloodstream and cause sepsis. This time, I had sepsis with acute organ dysfunction. My urine was the color of orange soda. I believe I had the organ dysfunction due to not being treated right away.

I had a pretty lengthy stay in the hospital, but after some time, I was discharged and had outpatient intravenous antibiotic treatments. When I left the hospital, I was a mess. I had terrible anxiety and I noticed I didn’t feel better this time. November had turned into December, and it was now nearing Christmas. I spent both Halloween and Thanksgiving in the hospital. It was now Christmas Eve and I still had that nagging cough. I awoke late for work, and sort of jogged to the bathroom. I nearly passed out. I called 911 and they came and took my vitals and said they were good. The only caveat was that their oxygen meter wasn’t working. I felt better and dismissed my shortness of breath as anxiety. I would find out Christmas day how wrong I was.

Christmas morning, I prepared to go to the grocery store to try and make dinner for my family. I felt absolutely horrible. I got into my car and something told me to go to the ER. I drove right past the grocery store, and to the hospital. I could barely walk from my car to the emergency room I was so short of breath. The doctor came in, took my health history and told me that it was normal to feel that way after sepsis. I agreed. But at the last minute, he decided to give me a CAT scan.

After a short time, he came back into the room and told me I had a massive pulmonary embolism. I remember being so happy I didn’t have sepsis, I didn’t realize the magnitude of what he had just said. I was re-hospitalized. I was later told that sepsis makes the blood clot and can cause DVT or a pulmonary embolism. I went home 10 days later to try and recover, but this time, the illnesses had taken its toll and I was experiencing symptoms of PTSD. I spent both Christmas and New Year’s in the hospital. (Sepsis and PTSD)

I was a wreck, a shell of my former self. Now I was on blood thinners, and fighting crippling anxiety. Doctors shook their heads at my condition. But I fought like hell to get healthy. I adopted a new diet and started working out. All was well until…

April. I was at work. A familiar feeling came over me yet a third time. I knew exactly what it was this time. Called 911 and was taken to the ER. Diagnosed with the same thing: Cellulitis of the leg with gram strep G bacteremia. This time, I wasn’t so sick. I attributed it to my new lifestyle. And a fast-acting doctor that gave me fluids and antibiotics as soon as I was taken into the room. No organ failure this time, and I was released from the Hospital a week later. Happy to be home. But the damage had been done. I didn’t trust my body. I didn’t trust God. I had no hope, but I continued to fight. And then…

Last month in August, as if God were playing a cruel joke, I got the chills again after working out at the gym. This time I drove myself to the hospital. Due to the slowwww response from the nurses, I went in feeling not too bad, but by the time I was admitted, my condition deteriorated quickly. I was vomiting. And the doctor, with whom had admitted me for the pulmonary embolism kept saying he didn’t think I had sepsis because vomiting isn’t usually a sign of sepsis. I couldn’t believe it. I again laid in the room for over five hours without antibiotics. I was given a round of the same tests, and voila, guess who had sepsis Again! Tests came back positive for the same thing as the last three times: gram strep G in the right leg due to cellulitis.

Today, I don’t know how to feel. All I know is that I am a fighter. I owe my survival to being in tune with my body. When in doubt, go to the emergency room. I check my temperature several times a day, and am meticulous about keeping my affected leg clean, compressed, and moisturized. I can honestly say, that the last three bouts of sepsis came as a result of me not being diligent with the care of my leg.

I know better now.

To anyone who has ever been affected by this please know, we are extremely lucky to be alive. We will continue to fight the good fight of faith and bring awareness of this terrible and unforgiving condition. I am a Survivor times four. Nothing scares me much these days. And I’m so glad my Mother didn’t name me Crystal.