“I was a 33 year old full-time, working mum who exercised regularly. I didn’t drink or smoke and took care of what I ate, and still I ended up on life support due to sepsis.
Hi, my name is Kristina and I am 38 years old. I have worked with children for the past nine years and I am currently a foster carer, living in Carrickfergus with my husband of 16 years and our three children.
I enjoy being outdoors daily, planting fruit and veg in our poly-tunnel with my family and being involved in our local Presbyterian Church. I was ordained as an elder in September 2023 and I have enjoyed every minute of serving our church, community and God.
I enjoy travelling with my family – we took a 3 week trip to Australia in 2023 when we snorkelled the Great Barrier Reef, tried new food and visited some of the most beautiful places. I enjoy doing jigsaw puzzles, going on long walks and experiencing new activities. This is my story of sepsis.
July 26th, 2019, was a normal day – my three children and I had enjoyed visiting my sister and going for a walk. I recall feeling weary most of that day though and I suggested a Chinese meal for dinner that night to my husband Craig. I lay on the sofa after dinner feeling very lethargic and experiencing light lower abdomen cramping. I went to bed early, thinking a good night sleep might make me feel better.
I woke in the middle of the night with strong abdomen pain so I went and got some paracetamol and went back to bed feeling very uncomfortable. I recall waking up again when the pain heightened and I woke Craig when it began to feel overwhelming. He rubbed my tummy and I drifted off to sleep.
Some time later I woke again with extreme, agonising abdominal pain and I begged Craig to get me an ambulance. I remember saying, “I think I am going to die!”
Craig phoned the out-of-hours doctors and they suggested that he bring me up. He helped me to the car. The journey to the Whiteabbey hospital from our home is approximately 20 minutes but I have very little memory of it. When we arrived, I was seen by a doctor who immediately said that they suspected sepsis and called for an ambulance to transport me to Antrim Area Hospital.
A nurse continued to check my temperature and blood pressure. When she noticed unusual stats, she alerted a doctor to come – my symptoms had got worse. I was taken in for keyhole surgery to see if they could identify the source of infection – they removed my coil as a precaution. I continued to get worse though and then had a laparotomy to try and clear the infection as my body was very weak and I was unable to fight the infection. I was unconscious, but my husband was given the news at this point that I had sepsis. I was moved to ICU and closely monitored. 12 hours in though my kidneys and lungs were failing and my family and closest friends were called to say goodbye to me.
My family didn’t give up hope and continued to search for alternative medicines to try. My consultant identified the need for me to be placed on a machine called ECMO. Unavailable in Dublin, my consultant identified availability in St. Thomas Hospital in London, however there was no flight for me or the medical team from London. Another obstacle, but hope was not lost: my family turned to social media to see if they could secure the team a private plane and my consultant made countless calls to London. While the consultant in AAH was on the call there was a visitor for another patient sitting in the corridor who overheard the problem that my family/friends and consultant were facing. He approached my consultant and asked whether they were looking for a flight and said that he could help.
This gentleman (my guardian angel in disguise) just so happened to be a retired Wing Commander of the RAF and was able to secure a flight. The helicopter flew to Hyde Park in London and picked up the ECMO team, it then refuelled in Wales and came on to Antrim Area Hospital. The team took me straight into surgery for the third time and I was linked up to the ECMO machine. They basically connected the equivalent of garden hose pipes to my upper thighs where my main arteries were, the contaminated blood was removed from my body, filtered in the ECMO machine and put back into my body to allow my lungs to heal. I was then air-lifted to St. Thomas Hospital where I lay in a coma for roughly 10 days.
My family, friends and church family continued to pray for my healing and recovery.
D-day came when the consultants told my husband that they were going to have to take me off the ECMO and try to wake me. They didn’t know how I would be – whether I would be mentally cognitive or not – but I could no longer be kept on ECMO. There was another problem, however, in that my body was retaining too much fluid – it had effectively doubled in size and I had to lose this fluid to help reduce the high risk of a stroke. Things were still really touch and go.
The next morning my husband was walking in, coffee in hand, ready to see what the day had to bring. When he approached the hallway a nurse was waiting for him, waving at him frantically. He ran towards her and she took him to the main consultant, who said “I don’t know if it is the luck of the Irish, or what it is you are doing but keeping doing it. Kristina has urinated enough for the whole ward and her fluid is gone and she is awake and responsive.”
I can tell you the power of prayer had a massive influence on this, I am sure.
“I need you to breathe Kristina.” This was the first voice I recall hearing. I remember feeling an obstruction in my mouth, and feeling extremely tired, and my first thought was that I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I remember focusing on how I was breathing. A lovely nurse came to me and told me I was safe and that she would look after me and I remember thinking that the place I was in smelt really clean. Then Craig walked in and he prayed with me. I was pleased to see him but I could see a lot of worry on his face. My mum came in and she looked so happy, and then my brother in law was at the end of my bed and he gave me a thumbs up and I thought “Why is Neil here?”
I remember two lovely Occupational Therapy staff at my bedside saying “Ok Kristina, we will get you up and out of bed.” I laughed to myself, thinking, ‘what do you mean I can get myself out of bed’ and then as I looked down and tried to move my legs, they wouldn’t move. I felt confused and couldn’t understand what had happened. As the days went on I knew I had experienced something awful but I was determined to overcome it.
I remained in London for another week before I was transferred back to Antrim Area Hospital.
I was in a wheelchair for months. I had to learn to walk, to eat, to swallow, even to hold a pencil. I had Occupational Therapy, Physiotherapy and Psychology appointments for years. I was finally discharged from the Brain Injury Team in September 2023.
Five and a half years later I am walking, talking and very independent. It has been a very long road to recovery though. I have permanent nerve damage in my left leg into my foot, I struggle with noise and battle with fatigue and retaining information. I have implemented measures to help assist me though and I take each day as it comes.
I was alone in a side room in AAH with no family/friends or staff when I was told that I had had sepsis. I think the reality of everything hit me and I started to cry uncontrollably. I couldn’t understand why I felt so sad and upset – I think it was a relief.
My husband told me later that he felt despair and my daughter said that she felt, scared, sad and worried – she recalled me going out to the car with daddy that first night. Other family and friends couldn’t believe how very ill I had become and how quickly – even to this day I get hugs and tears from them.
My recovery took a long four years. To this day, I am still struggling with side effects. My husband Craig was my primary carer and rock – and still is. From the moment I became unwell in July 2019, he has not left my side – from AAH to St Thomas’, London. Whilst caring for me and all my needs once I returned home, he was also caring for our three young children. He helped me with personal care, medication, rehabilitation exercises, everyday movement etc. We also have an amazing circle of family and friends and they all chipped in and helped with the children, cooked meals, cleaned and did school runs…
When I asked the consultant how and why I got sepsis, his response was they were unable to identify the source of the infection. This put the fear in me because, naturally, you want to protect yourself from the thing that nearly took your life. However, being a Christian, I am a strong believer and have always said that everything happens for a reason. A lot of good has come from such a disastrous event – not only for me personally but for my family, friends and wider community. My story has helped others become aware of sepsis and how it can impact your life – how it’s important not to ignore the symptoms and signs because it is potentially a killer if not treated.
My sister had sepsis when she was pregnant with her second child so I was possibly more aware of sepsis than most people. Knowledge is powerful. If you have any of the symptoms please get medical help– I wouldn’t wish this cruel illness on anyone. Early detection helps save lives.
Charity comment:
Kristina’s story illustrates just how quickly sepsis can take hold and how serious it can be. The ECMO treatment she received is amongst the most extreme for patients with sepsis and the recovery that she made is all the more extraordinary as a result.
Kristina had some knowledge of sepsis prior to getting it herself because of her sister’s experience. It is not unusual for more than one member of the same family to experience sepsis. The investigation of genetic susceptibility to sepsis is one of the key focuses of the GenOMICC project that the charity has funded since 2018.
Above all though, Kristina‘s advice – to make sure that you are well informed about sepsis and its symptoms and to get medical attention immediately should you have any concerns – is paramount.
We are so grateful to Kristina for sharing her story to help raise awareness of sepsis.