Chris Holton

I went to sleep on Friday, May 28, and have no memory of what happened after that until the fourth of July.

I know I must have been coherent at the time based on what my wife told me but on Sunday, May 30, I went to the Emergency Room and my biggest fear was that I was going to be sent home because I was in terrible pain–pain that I don’t remember.

From there, I went to the operating room on Tuesday, June 1, where I was opened up and a portion of bowel was removed. I was diagnosed with peritonitis and sent to the ICU, with my belly flayed open and a wound vac in place, waiting to get better. I didn’t. Later a nurse noticed a huge hole on my backside and I went to the operating room again to have this wound debrided. (Sepsis and Pressure Injuries) That took care of my sources of sepsis but the symptoms of sepsis persisted. I went back to the ICU where I “died” at least twice, and was treated for diabetes which I did not have prior to this incident. Then I had a stroke.

Treatment of me continued as I laid in a vegetative state in the ICU and beyond in the hospital. On July 4, I remember being truly awake for the first time. I passed the requisite tests to be sent to acute rehab, which my insurance company didn’t want–they wanted to send me home with tubes in both my rectum and my mouth. Otherwise, they were pushing to send me to a nursing home. I think I would have died had that happened. Fortunately, the insurance ending up paying up so we came out of this relatively whole financially. After the stroke, a physician wrote a letter saying I would never work again and probably never walk again. She wrote it to assist my daughter in getting a refund for the summer school I had paid for before falling ill. It didn’t work.

So on July 4 (or thereabouts) I woke up and found myself confined to an inflatable bed to protect my sore. I needed to jump through hoops to get accepted into the acute rehab unit, and with a little stretching on their part, I made it. Several nurses and techs got me onto the rehab unit where I had excellent care which kept me working for several weeks until I was discharged on July 29. I was brought home where I continued my rehab and my recovery for several months until I regained my driving privileges in November.

We had prepared our home for the worst but fortunately it wasn’t really necessary. I graduated from the walker in November and had gradually regained my stamina, which is really my greatest residual impact. My cognitive deficit is easier to ignore for most people who don’t really know me, but I find it difficult to call things to the front of my brain in a timely manner. I find the computer to be very difficult to use now. I found a job but I’m not getting any sympathy there; the expectations are difficult for me to meet. If I can just make it another year or two, I’ll be happy.

I definitely face PTSD symptoms and residual weakness in my arms and legs. I get tired a lot and sleep more than ever. Fortunately, I did not need an ostomy bag or anything, but I have struggled with bladder and bowel issues. I’m happy to be alive and hope I make it another 20 years.