Thomas Wood

In November of 2021 I called into work after feeling the chills and abnormally exhausted. I ignored the symptoms for a day and told everyone I would go to the immediate care right away. I did not do that. I went a day later when my employer noticed I was confused and not making much sense. I was walked to the immediate care next door by my boss.

I remember the the waiting room of the immediate care and then waking up in the ICU about 3 weeks later. During that time I was in a coma, living what felt like a normal life, but like with all dreams, they feel normal until you remember them in your waking life.

The hospital stay lasted from November 2021 to March 2022 across 3 hospitals. I received wonderful care and wish I could remember more about the people who saved my life, more than just their eyes. That feeling of wanting to say “thank you” so often and with much emphasis and enthusiasm can be overwhelming when it feels unheard or not enough.

After the hospital stays I returned home where my amazing wife, Amanda, had just finished her Doctorate in Physical Therapy! I recovered very fast, physically. I had transmetatarsal amputation (TMA) of both feet (all toes). Today, I am back at work as a Registered Behavior Technician for early childhood intervention Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) therapy and going to school for my Board Certified Behavior Analyst (BCBA). It requires a lot of foot work and quick moving, and with enough practice I think most people would not be able to tell I am missing 10 digits.

I would love to end it there but the uncountable mental shut downs and counselors visits cannot go untold. I would be lying if I left out how long it took to not confuse the coma with real life. I’d laugh at something in a story because of an event from a memory that only I have. I would be embarrassing to not be able to explain why I don’t remember events that did happen and remember events that did not. My heart stopped twice while I was in the hospital, once I was fully aware of. That also leaves a invisible scar. I imagine some of those feelings are feelings most people don’t get to remember. I feel both proud and in debt at the same time. Blessed and stained.

I have an indescribable love for life now and appreciation for all the goofy things we do as people when we are not scared of dying. I have my moments where I feel embarrassed because I got confused, or because I stumbled up the stairs. I’d have those moments whether I had sepsis or not! I try to remember that every heart beat, anxious and off rhythm or smooth and healthy, is still a heart beat.

“I am someone who did not die when they should have died” is written on mirror. I read it every day and after a brief moment of terror I am reminded “How bad could today possibly be?”