Teresa Heidenreich
My journey with sepsis began unexpectedly, unfolding over several months filled with intense, recurring pain in my upper right abdomen and stomach. Despite undergoing numerous ultrasounds and CT scans, the doctors were at a loss. It wasn’t until a procedure called ERCP that the mystery was finally solved: I had several stones lodged in my bile duct, igniting a painful bout of pancreatitis. After the procedure in May 2021, which removed all but one stone, I found myself hospitalized for six exhausting days, clinging to hope as I prepared to recover at home.
As I settled back into my routine, I was grateful for my family and friends, who began to sense that something was amiss during my recovery. Though I, too, felt that something wasn’t right, I attributed it to the typical ups and downs of post-surgery healing. I had symptoms that made me think I was battling the flu—vomiting and diarrhea—and I convinced myself that my pancreatitis wasn’t healing properly. Thankfully, my parents insisted I visit the ER, a decision that would prove to be life-saving. The doctor informed them that had I waited just another 24 to 48 hours, I might not have made it; my blood pressure was alarmingly low, my temperature soaring, and my body was in a state of crisis.
What followed was an intense, two-month struggle for survival across two different hospitals. I was frequently in and out of the ICU, with most of that time a blur. I pieced together fragments of my experience through stories from my family and friends and by sifting through my medical records. My infection escalated, leading to antibiotic resistance (AMR) and a cascade of complications. (Sepsis and Antimicrobial/Antibiotic Resistance) My body faltered under the weight of acute kidney injury, pleural effusion, atrial fibrillation, an E. coli infection, and severe cognitive dysfunction, potentially due to brain swelling. A feeding tube was inserted as my pancreatitis worsened. On July 4, 2021, I was transferred to another hospital, where they finally identified the AMR and found a medication that worked. Further tests revealed a sizable cyst on my pancreas, which they promptly drained.
I’ll never forget spending my 52nd birthday in a hospital bed, fighting for my life. Though my condition worsened before it improved, I clung tight to hope and faith. I was surrounded by a dedicated medical team who fought relentlessly on my behalf. After two long months, I transitioned to a rehabilitation facility in late July 2021. When I arrived, I struggled to sit up unassisted, let alone stand or walk. Every day revolved around physical and occupational therapy, interwoven with prayers that strengthened my resolve. By August 14, just three weeks later, I had progressed enough to use a walker and was thrilled to continue my recovery at home.
By mid-October, I was back at work, stepping back into a semblance of my everyday life. I am endlessly grateful that I didn’t lose any organs, limbs, or skin tissue along the way. Although I still experience lingering effects—like lung scarring, iron deficiency, and challenges associated with post-sepsis syndrome (PSS)—including fatigue, joint pain, difficulty concentrating, PTSD, and anxiety about falling ill again, I can’t help but feel incredibly fortunate.
Before this harrowing experience, I had only a vague concept of sepsis and how devastating it could be. Having lived through it, I know how rapidly it can escalate and the vital importance of seeking medical help when something feels off. Severe sepsis nearly claimed my life, but with unwavering support from my loved ones, the tireless efforts of my medical team, and a dose of miracles, I stand here today, ready to share my story of survival and resilience.
