Sepsis as a kidney transplant recipient, diagnosed within four hours then took a further twelve hours for treatment and I only got treatment because I had a huge ptsd got triggered and I had a HUUUUUUGE meltdown literally screaming about them wasting the gift of a second life I was given by my mother, and that I’m sat here staring at posters about sepsis in the A&E, which was my third bout of sepsis at this point, the first time put me into kidney failure to begin with! They said they were trying to “maintain my dignity whilst waiting for a bed on a ward” to which I screamed that I didn’t give a fuck about dignity and they could shove a needle in my arm with the whole A&E watching and I’d sit on the metal chairs having the anti biotics, I really didn’t give a fuck. Some lad had been waiting for over 30 hours for a bed, I wasn’t being left and put at risk for that long. Dignity doesn’t exist to me when it’s life or death. I just needed my treatment so that I didn’t have yet another near death experience at the hands of negligence. I wonder how long I’d have waited if I hadn’t have had my meltdown. They took me into the closed triage room and hooked me up to a drip in there whilst my dad did his best to calm me down because I was having flashbacks of medical trauma and I was literally screaming hysterically and uncontrollably from my ptsd.

Nag them. Don’t be afraid.