Sustainable Weight Loss Steps -Surviving Septic Shock – HealthyWomen | uxa2.com

There was a taste of falling in the air. The musty smell of leaves hung heavy as they crumpled under our feet. The days of October were getting shorter. And the holidays were like shadows in the late afternoon sun. I approached the soon-to-be festive season with an unsettling sense of impending doom.

This was an autumn like no other. My husband Joe and I headed to outpatient physical therapy. My legs were thin and I walked like a newborn calf on wobbly, unsteady limbs. My weight had dropped to 115 and my hair was falling out. I lived a life filled with anxiety. Crying every day and waking up in a panic after a rough sleep filled with terrifying nightmares.

Five months earlier, on May 22, 2021, my colon perforated from undiagnosed diverticulitis, a serious infection. I went into septic shock, my immune system’s bad way of fighting infection, and my organs started to fail. Our world was rocked in an instant when I was airlifted to emergency surgery in Baltimore. The doctors doubted that I wouldn’t make it.

Surprisingly, I did. A large portion of my colon was removed and a temporary colostomy was placed by pulling a small piece of intestine through the abdominal wall to create an opening to get rid of the dead body while the bowel heals. My colorectal surgeon, a great doctor with deft hands, said he would put it all back together by doing a colostomy reversal in December. The nurses marveled at the neatly stapled 10-inch incision that ran straight down my stomach and past my belly button. They said the stoma was “beautiful”. My surgeon had done an amazing job, but I wasn’t sure I would call the stoma “beautiful.”

Jackie in the shock trauma intensive care unit after septic shock, 2021.

I spent more than a month in hospital and institutional care. I was just re-admitted to clear a post-op infection soon after I got home. I had to learn to walk again and brush my teeth. I had to adapt to the stoma. Sepsis left me drained and my muscles wasted. I couldn’t pour a bowl of cereal and could barely sit for more than 10 minutes at a time.

My nerves went. My family did everything they could to comfort me, but they didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t even realize I was suffering from PTSD and post-sepsis syndrome, a condition that affects about 50% of survivors, but no one knows much about. We suffer in silence. My mind was consumed by irrational fears about almost everything. I was scared of having a blood test or taking my vital signs. I began to mentally detach myself from life itself. I tuned out, just like the blank TV screen I’d been staring at for hours.

The holidays and my next surgery were fast approaching. I was so sure I wouldn’t survive the twist that I scheduled surgery for December 8th to make sure I didn’t miss my youngest daughter Alexis’s 21st birthday on the 5th. I wanted Alexis to enjoy that milestone in case I didn’t make it.

Alexis, my other daughter Elise and my son Joey and his fiance Colleen assured me they would take care of the holidays. Meanwhile, I had a calendar full of “must dos”. A colonoscopy to check if everything is okay inside for surgery. Iron infusions, tons of blood work, cardiology cleanses, pulmonology cleanses and a physical. This surgery was no walk in the park. It took several hours and was very complicated. I also have several chronic, disabling conditions, including Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos, POTS, Crohn’s Disease, and severe osteoporosis. I had a lot of pre-op boxes to check.

In November, my husband suggested we go to a nearby lake and go for walks because the afternoon sun was getting even lower in the sky. The leaves were really rustling now. The walks calmed my mind and strengthened my muscles for surgery. I continued outpatient physiotherapy. I was still very weak – and plagued by my mental demons of destruction.

Thanksgiving arrived on a bright sunny November morning. Elise and Alexis helped their father get everything ready. They did everything – turkey, stuffing, potato and pie. Joey and Colleen brought more food and cookies. New memories formed around me, as tasty as the meal. As we sat around the table and the children joked and laughed, I looked around intently and tried to take a mental snapshot and put the image out of my heart. Just in case my fears come true.

Before Alexis left for the weekend to go back to college, I gave her an early birthday present. Pandora bracelet and 21 jewelry with her birthstone. Tears came to my eyes. I was convinced I would never live to see him graduate, let alone see him come home for Christmas break in a few weeks. I tried not to give in to my fears, but failed miserably.

Jackie and Alexis with Alexis’ 21st birthday necklace, 2021

December rolled by with a fresh cold. I avoided listening to Christmas music. It was too wistful and sentimental and it hurt my heart and made a huge lump in my throat. Bing Crosby’s “You’re All I Want for Christmas” has always been a sore spot. My dad used to play it on the family stereo when I was little and it makes me think of family that is no longer here. And now I was afraid it would be the last time I’d be here listening to holiday songs. Instead, I liked smooth jazz on the radio. Nice, neutral area.

My nerves were full of excitement and dread the morning I checked in for surgery at 5 a.m. in Baltimore at the same hospital. I almost got away and ran out the front doors. My husband coaxed me back inside and a member of the registration staff named Tatia came over and sat with me and held my hands. He poked gently and asked what was wrong. I told him I was sure I would die from the operation. Tatia asked me about my children, their careers, and what had brought me there that morning. I prayed about my children and then told him about sepsis and my previous flirtation with death. He assured me that I was very strong to get through that and I would get through this too. He came upstairs with us to the pre-op area and stayed until my surgeon arrived. It felt like I had an angel watching over me that morning.

When I woke up in the recovery room, the nurses happily announced that I had made it. I was on the other side! Not just “that” side. I was still on this planet, much to my surprise. I peeked under the blanket at the small white bandage on the left side of the stomach where the stoma used to be. My surgeon said the removal was successful, although it took a few days for everything to start working again. I spent eight days in the hospital walking the halls lugging my IV pole. Joe captured my progress on Instagram. One of my nurses repurposed a makeshift sparkly pipe cleaner into a Christmas decoration and attached it to my IV pole. It was the most beautiful ornament I had ever seen.

Jackie and her children, Christmas 2021

The day after I got home, our son drove to Pittsburgh to bring Alexis home for recess. The girls had insisted on waiting until I got home to decorate the tree. I was still weak and weak. But I was able to lay on the couch and watch them hang the decorations while playing the carol guessing game with their dad. Alexis was playing classic Christmas carols (really old ones) and when the first few seconds of the song started, she asked her dad to name the artist. They had been playing this game for years.

My husband helped do a few online purchases so we would have something for the kids on Christmas morning. Elise had purchased a Fitbit back in September so I could track my steps as I continued my recovery. He was always more sure of my survival than I was. Joey and Colleen bought me a Wii Fit so I could work out at home on days off from physical therapy. Alexis made the best meal and it felt like we opened a new chapter. Waves of emotion erupted as I opened the presents. I really didn’t need gifts; my family was all i needed. It felt surreal. To still be alive. Like a dream. Our Christmas dream. And that was all I ever wanted that Christmas.

Resources

Sepsis Association

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