Sepsis Survivor: The Recovery

Writing out my story of surviving sepsis has been good for me. Writing is always therapeutic and healing for me, and writing this story out was no exception. I finished all five parts of how it all began and the details of my hospital stay. But once I got home from the hospital, it wasn’t like I was suddenly 100% back to normal. I still had a long road of recovery ahead. I’m hoping to share that part of the story within this one post.

If you missed the rest of the story, be sure to start at the beginning — Sepsis Survivor: My Story of Healing (Part I).

My Recovery

My story left off (Part V) with me coming home from the hospital with my drain in and reuniting with my two daughters — Raylee, who was almost three at the time, and Ruthi, who was almost 6 months at the time. My husband had the first week off of work, and my mom was here helping too. It was hard to let go of control — I wasn’t the one putting the girls to bed or making their lunch, etc. Instead, I would spend as much time as I could with them before needing to go lay down and rest or sleep.

I was doing my spirometer multiple times a day, as well as exercises to regain strength in my legs. I was trying to do as much as I could while still taking it easy too.

On Feb. 4, I had an appointment with my new primary care doctor. My mom was needing someone to sign her FMLA paperwork, so I had to make an appointment in order to find someone who would finally sign off on her staying to help while I recovered. While at the appointment, where I met this doctor for the first time, she went over my reports and learned about all that had happened. I was complaining of pain in my ribcage. I had also gotten to the point where I couldn’t lay down without being in pain. I wasn’t able to sleep unless I was sitting up. She said despite the fact that I had a follow-up appointment with my surgeon the next day, she was going to order tests because she felt responsible for my care. I liked that she seemed to care so much. But I didn’t like the thought of more tests. She ordered blood work, a chest x-ray, and another CT scan.

More Tests

They took me to another room to take my blood, and the girl couldn’t get a vein. I couldn’t stop crying, and I knew she felt bad. They decided I should just go to the hospital to have all the tests done. I broke down in the hallway because I did not want to go back to the hospital. I was afraid they would find something wrong and they would admit me. We had told Raylee we would be back soon, and now I was afraid it would be a long time before I ever came back to her. I had also had my first therapy appointment scheduled for that afternoon, and now I wouldn’t make it in time. I had been looking forward to that appointment and was very disappointed.

I had my blood drawn first, and I found out my hemoglobin levels had went up to 9.6. On my way to the chest x-ray, I ran into my hospital angel! She saw me and said, “Wait, you’re still here?!” I told her I was just back for follow-up tests. As scary as it was to be back there, I think God sent her into that hallway at just the right time. Just seeing her made me feel better. I also saw a couple other people I had met during my stay in the hospital. There are people called transporters that come and take you down for tests and then bring you back to your room. I had gotten to know some of them during my stay, and I saw one of them while waiting for my CT scan.

The next day, I had my follow-up appointment with my surgeon. He took my drain out — again it is such a strange experience. I cried. Not because it hurt or anything. Just so many emotions. During this appointment, he told us my CT scan had showed that my abscess was shrinking but that I still had small pockets of infection throughout my abdomen. He also told us I had fluid on my lungs. He told me that this recovery was not going to take weeks, but instead it would be months before I felt like myself again. That was so hard to hear. It was not what we were expecting, and honestly I needed to grieve some after that. I’m pretty sure I cried most of the way home.

Medications & Therapy

On Feb. 7, I began taking medication to reduce the fluid on my lungs. This medication can make your blood pressure drop, and since I seem to have issues with that we monitored my blood pressure too.

I continued taking my antibiotics until they ran out on Feb. 16, and then I just had to hope that my body would fight off the infection on its own. I have also been taking probiotics every day. I weaned myself off my prescribed pain medicine pretty quickly, but I would take ibuprofen almost daily. I also had to take Tylenol PM in order to sleep, otherwise I would lay awake replaying everything and going over all the what ifs — what could have happened and what could still happen. I finally got into therapy, but I didn’t like it. After three appointments, all of which I left feeling like it had been a waste of time, I decided to stop going. Instead, I switched to Christian counseling, or as they call it “intense discipleship” at my church. It was free and she could meet in the evenings at our church, which is just two minutes from our house — a much better option than what I had before.

As time went on, my appetite came back and my strength returned. I still had pain and/or diarrhea frequently, but it became less and less with each passing day. I would ask Travis all kinds of questions about the experience and learn all kinds of new things that I didn’t know about because of the sedation.

On Feb. 14, my mom went back home, and on Feb. 16, Travis’ aunt Rhonda (the one who started my prayer vigil) came to stay with us for a week. By then, I was able to do a lot more but still needed a lot of rest by the afternoon.

My Last CT Scan

On Feb. 26, I was scheduled to have another CT scan to see if my body was fighting off the infection by itself. I had been praying hard for about two weeks that this scan would show that the infection was completely gone. That I would be healed! I was once again so nervous for this test. Despite the fact that I had done this a zillion times before, I still cried through the whole thing. It wasn’t that I was scared of the actual test — which the technician didn’t seem to understand — I was scared of the results. I needed to release all these emotions.

The results were good, but not as good as I was hoping for. My abscess was gone! However, there were still pockets of infection. My surgeon, as well as my primary care doctor, said I wouldn’t have any more CT scans. They agreed that it would be unnecessary radiation. The only reason I’ll get another is if my symptoms come back and get worse. Otherwise, it seems I will only be getting better.

Where Am I Now?

I think I am very close to being back to normal. My strength and energy and appetite have all completely returned. I lost about 15 pounds when I got out of the hospital, and I’m OK with it not coming back. I don’t really recommend this method for “losing the baby weight” though.

I rarely have to take any pain medication now, and my bowel movements seem to be getting back to normal too. Physically, I’m in a really good place. Mentally, I’m almost there too. As you’ve read, it was a traumatic experience and it has given me some anxiety regarding my health. Add in a worldwide pandemic that is killing thousands of people — yeah, that’s been a fun addition to all this. What a year it has been! But I’m reading the Bible and other books, plus seeing a counselor and spending a lot of time in prayer — God healed me and I know He has a purpose for my life and this story.

We know that in all things God works for good for those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28