People don’t get much fitter or more resilient than former RAF Warrant Officer Al Sylvester MBE. So no one was more shocked than Al himself when ‘the flu’ quickly deteriorated and he found himself critically ill in intensive care.
Moving coincidences and moments of reflection were to follow. Al shares his story here.
Back in October of 2017 I had completed 2017 miles running over the preceding 10 months and had decided to push my distance to complete a 100 mile non-stop run by the end of the year.
At the end of November, after completing a 20-miler, I started with a cough and symptoms of a cold. A few days later in early December I had a minor operation to remove three lumps from my face, head and neck. Over that weekend my coughing worsened, my temperature rose and by the Sunday night I was attempting to sleep downstairs to avoid disturbing my wife Clare.
Around 5.30am on Monday 4th December, Clare realised that I was very short of breath, however, and very hot and she called for a first responder. When he arrived he quickly realised that he couldn’t administer a line into my veins and so immediately called for an ambulance. The paramedic was also unable to get a line in, so I was blue-lighted to the Great Western Hospital in Swindon where the respiratory team gained entry via a line into my radial artery (very painful)!! Shortly after that my vital signs were taken again by which stage my blood pressure was 72/unreadable, I was breathing at 30+ per minute, my pulse – normally 42 – was 172 bpm and my temperature was 41 degrees.
Within a very short period I was admitted to the hospital’s ICU, still firmly of the opinion that I probably just had the flu. The reality struck me like a cricket bat to my head when the ICU nurse shared my vital signs and told me that I was critically poorly.
Over the next few hours I was visited by a variety of doctors. My bloods were taken and results showed an infection level of around 535mg/L (Measurement of a patient’s C-reactive protein (CRP) level is one of the commonest tests used as an indicator of infection. Anything over 10 is a cause for concern). I was diagnosed with pneumonia and an otherwise unknown infection.
Over the next three days, with various lines into my body, including one to administer the antibiotic Clarithromycin, my condition deteriorated to a level where my brothers were advised to visit me. I do remember that – particularly my eldest brother Ian suggesting that he have my Porsche and my collection of whisky if I didn’t make it!
On several occasions the doctors said that they felt that I should be intubated but due to my level of fitness and the fact that I was managing to hold my own they thankfully never had to.
By day five I started to respond to the various meds and, having been over 40 degrees for many days, my temperature finally started to drop.
Throughout my whole time in ICU I was in isolation and I had more than 25 blood tests, in the hope that cultivating my bloods would pinpoint the origin of the infection. This included checking for Weil’s and Lyme disease as I regularly ran along the Thames and on lots of cross-country routes. My bloods were also sent to the tropical diseases team in London as I had been to the Himalayas in April 2017. The source infection was never established in my case though.
I was discharged from ICU on day ten. Up to that point I hadn’t slept for 11 nights as I believed subconsciously that if I fell asleep I would never wake up. I had listened to so many songs – in particular Pink and Ed Sheeran who were two artists I had never particularly liked previously, but their tunes were constantly being played on the various radio stations I listened to.
My parting message to the incredible ICU team was that I would run another ultra marathon for them – to thank them all for their outstanding work. The team did remind me that I had been very poorly so I shouldn’t expect too much too soon.
I was then transferred to a respiratory ward until the 23rd December and then finally, two days before Christmas, I was discharged home altogether.
My wife Clare was a complete rock throughout this whole period. She was supported by family and close friends, especially the RAF Mountain Rescue troops. My eldest son Kieran lives in Lincoln and I had not seen him as we never told him how poorly I was. My youngest son Joshua did try to visit me whilst I was in intensive care but once the medical team realised he was only 9 years old, and since I was in isolation, they only allowed him to see me through the windows of my room. As a Pink Floyd fan, the line from the song Wish You Were Here stuck in my head: “We are like two lost souls living in a fishbowl”. This memory will never go away, realising how poorly I must have looked to my son.
Over the next few months I continued to struggle with my breathing and with tiredness. I was so exhausted that I would regularly have to sleep in the afternoons. It was on my second follow-up appointment several months later that I was told that not only had I suffered from pneumonia but I had almost died of sepsis. This was a huge shock – until this point I had no idea.
It took just over six months before I could return to work on a tapered programme. I then started my fitness programme – starting to run again – with my ultimate goal being another ultramarathon. It was during this training that I came across a group of local ladies who were encouraging their friends to run a Couch To 5k. I knew all but one of the ladies so I asked if I could join them. As we were jogging the final part of the route this same lady advised me that I looked better with my clothes on! Everyone laughed as – apart from me – everyone knew who she was. Having completed the jog, I walked in the same direction as the lady who informed me that she had been part of the ICU outreach team that had supported me whilst I was in hospital. I immediately burst into tears. How do you thank someone who was part of a team who saved your life? Gemma and I have been great friends ever since.
In the summer of 2019, 18 months after my discharge from hospital and after a gruelling training programme, I completed Race To The Tower, a 52-mile, 7500’ ascent ultramarathon. I had the great honour of returning to visit the ICU team with a medal, showing them what they had achieved.
Since then I’ve gone on to run several ultra marathons, including one in 2021, and I eventually got to realise my 2017 pledge by completing the Wiltshire Whitehorse 100-miler.
Initially I attended several local sepsis support meetings in Swindon and Oxford, where I would share my experiences with other survivors and with families whose children had not survived. Following a very sad occasion where I met the parents of a 27-year-old daughter who had not survived, I felt my time supporting these meetings should conclude. It had left both me and the parents questioning how I had survived when their beautiful marathon-running daughter had lost her life. I’ve subsequently supported the Great Western Hospital with several sepsis training days.
The only issue I have had since being poorly is a persistent respiratory issue which makes me cough violently to the point of vomiting. My running and cycling friends are now all accustomed to it happening, then me happily catching them up with a smile on my face. Since December 2023 I have taken medication which has greatly reduced the issue.
I was put in touch with Sepsis Research FEAT by my friend Lucy who works in marketing and pr with the charity. It’s lovely being involved with the team, in the hope that I may help the charity’s work in the future.
I would love other people who have experienced sepsis personally or whose loved ones have suffered to know that there can be positives in such a very harrowing experience. I’m acutely aware though that many sepsis survivors may not be in a position to physically achieve what they could before their illness. I hope most would agree that with mental positivity it can open up other avenues to succeed elsewhere though.
Having served in the Royal Air Force for 31 years – primarily as a team leader within the RAF Mountain Rescue Service – I have recently semi-retired.
After the RAF, I worked for four years with the SEND Coordination team and 6 and 7 year olds at the local infant’s school. For the past six years I have presented to hundreds of schools, businesses, WI’s, U3As etc., sharing my adventures in Antarctica, the Himalayas, RAF Mountain Rescue and walking unsupported 881 miles between Land’s End and John O’Groats. I include my experience of sepsis within my presentations.
And if I had one message for others? Whether you’ve personally suffered from sepsis or you’ve witnessed a loved one who has, by sharing your experiences you can hopefully increase public knowledge of how to spot the signs of sepsis and what to do if you do. I also hope that by sharing my story of how I’ve returned to follow my dreams, others will feel that anything is possible. Just please, please, please – never give up.
Charity note: Al’s is perhaps not a typical story, give that he was and is far fitter than the average person. It reminds us, however, that sepsis can strike anyone, however ‘invincible’ they may feel or seem. And it also reminds us that we all have a tendency to downplay our own symptoms and that it is often the vigilance of someone close who recognises something as abnormal and gets medical help quickly.
Sepsis Research FEAT works tirelessly to raise much wider awareness of sepsis in the UK, to make sure that more people are able to make that call on behalf of themselves and others. Stories like Al’s are a central part of that work. More research is urgently needed to understand the genetic reasons why someone like Al got as ill as he did. Sepsis Research FEAT is so grateful to Al for sharing his powerful and thought-provoking account.
Visit the relevant pages of our website to find out more about the charity’s research or to share your story of sepsis.