Nia Civil

Triple lobar pneumonia and septic shock aren’t a joke. (Sepsis and Pneumonia)

On a cold winter day in December of 2012, I found my life quickly dwindling before my eyes. I had been sick for a while with a pesky cold that wasn’t going away, and was worsening over time, not realizing that it had turned into pneumonia. I had never been sick quite like this, but being a teenager, I hoped that it would somehow resolve itself with over the counter medicine as I had no context for what I was experiencing. I remained proactive as any kid trying to attend to an odd illness could be, but eventually, I began to deteriorate.

On December 10th, I attended my internship at a local preschool, although I felt extremely “off”. Within about 5 minutes of being there, I was shaking, my body so cold that I felt as though I had been locked in a freezer only I could feel. The pain and chills radiated deep into my bones. I’ll never forget the way my teeth chattered so hard that I was terrified they’d break. I shook in a near cartoonish manner, like the way animated characters express that they’re cold on children’s shows. My body was no longer in my control. I rushed home at that moment, leaving the internship early and quickly hopped into bed, turning on a space heater to warm myself up. Less than an hour later, I felt my body burning, and looked up in horror to realize that the space heater was never actually on, and something was horribly wrong. I would later learn that I had a 106 degree fever.

In a state of primal instinct, I crawled over to our cold, tiled bathroom floor to lay upon it for cold relief as if I was a furry dog in the middle of a heatwave. Interestingly, a family member noticed me, but perhaps thought I was having a really bad day, and sent me off to bed. I already had sepsis.

I can’t really explain how I was able to go a whole night without medical treatment while having actively worsening sepsis, but I did. It’s moments like these where I imagine God covered me heavily to carry me throughout the night. In the morning, I was rushed to our pediatrician. I’ll never forget her trying to take my heart rate with her stethoscope multiple times, and looking up at my mother to say with terror in her eyes, “I can’t hear anything”. Mystified, they tried multiple times and capped my heart rate at a maximum of 70/40. Quickly to the ER I went.

I remember the pain, trying to breathe and instantly having my breath hit against a wall, being virtually unable to walk, the pain of suffering, deeply and potently, like no human should. By the time I had gotten to the first hospital, I had learned that my body was rapidly shutting down. I had triple lobar pneumonia, a rare type of pneumonia in which it was stated that the majority of my lungs were filled with fluid. Doctors that week would look at me in shock when they learned I was still alive despite having *triple pneumonia*.

My kidneys had already failed, and my body was close to bottoming out. I had full blown septic shock. This led to me being rushed to a second, more intensive hospital, where I’d end up with multiple doctors and teams, various tubes within me, a PICC line, multiple nerves being hit in arms through IV attempts, scars, an inability to breathe, and a solid realization that my young life was likely about to be cut short.

It was a long week in the hospital. I was exhausted, and had been far before I was admitted. At one point, I asked to simply not be attended to anymore, because on a physical level, I had very little fight in me and wanted to go. I didn’t want to experience any more fear and pain than I already was. I believe though on a spiritual level, there was some kind of fortitude awakened that kept me going I suppose.

I still struggle to fully articulate how painful and life changing that experience was. Being so young, I also was not given the tools to mentally and emotionally feel supported from such an experience. We focus more on the physical, and not the grief and trauma that comes with such an experience. When I would discuss it, I was often and unfortunately met with “but you made it out just fine! Knew you’d be okay!” by those uneducated and equally willing to minimize my experience and the gravity of septic shock to make themselves more comfortable with the gravity of my experience.

In recent years, I’ve learned to advocate for sepsis awareness, and to make it a point to show others that this is something that needs to be taken seriously. To survive sepsis, not just in the moment, but also in the years after is huge and should not be overlooked. Post Sepsis Syndrome is something I also had to work on understanding, as I had no idea that the experiences I had after my septic shock were in fact related. I have since lived more on the immunocompromised spectrum, and have had to honor my body’s sensitivities very closely. Sepsis is a common yet silent killer, ripping through lives and families. All it takes is one infection to spiral out of control.
I stand here today, grateful to have survived late stage septic shock and triple lobar pneumonia. I now work to make sure that others are able to detect sepsis as early as possible, so that it never progresses as far to its final stage. I am so blessed to use the abundance of life I have been granted to advocate for sepsis awareness. Every life matters.