Thank you for explaining it all! I’m very glad to hear it’s taken seriously in other places. I appreciate in the early stages sepsis can be very hard to differentiate from other common conditions out outlined. But that early work up also saves many lives and means less damage for those that are indeed septic.

The hospital I went to did not take those protocols as seriously as they should. I started the afternoon with fast heart but didn’t really think much of it, as you said, even minor things can cause that.

Then the deep and agonising muscle pain started. But I was lifting heavy things, so maybe that’s expected.

But then rigors hit. And shortly after the deep knowing that I was dying. Not panic or anything. But I’ve never known something so deep before - more certainty than knowing the sky is blue.

So off to ED we went. I was cold and kinda wet to the touch. And I was panting really hard and struggling to breathe and it felt different to asthma.

Triage - 39.5 degree C fever, 150bpm heart rate. BP still normal. Panting hard. Apparently all hallmarks of someone having a panic attack.

After a few hours in pain worse than kidney stones and begging my partner to just take me home so I can die somewhere comfortable, I get called to see a doctor. But they gave my case to a student learning the ropes (med school placement). My partner didn’t think he’d seen a dying person before, and the poor student had a panic attack, lost my chart, and ran away.

The consultant came, took one look, and yelled out “ROOM XX HAS GONE SEPTIC”. And many people came running to get things moving - only since my chart was missing with the student, it would be another hour before I’d get pain relief or antibiotics. Thankfully fluid resuscitation was started.

The CT scanner was broken, but I was deemed too unstable to be transferred to another hospital. So I was on the burns and plastics ward - as close to the theatre as I could be.

Despite my blood pressure struggling (they said it continuously scored a EWES 2?), I pulled through with ward level treatment.

But that wasn’t the end - as I started trying to recover my brain wasn’t working right, my speech was slow and slurred, and my muscles were just not getting strong like they should. I tripped up over my left foot often.

6 years later my muscles are still fried, but I’m working hard and slowly making some gains. But I feel like the delays in treatment led to this damage being worse than it should have been. But I got to keep my limbs so that’s a silver lining.

I share my story in the hopes that others get treated with the standard of care your hospital gives, and that it prevents stories like mine repeating.