Reflection

I often find myself reflecting back on past events and struggling to fully accept the situation I put myself in—becoming so vulnerable and susceptible to a severe and hard-hitting medical condition like sepsis. It’s difficult to face the stubbornness within me that kept me from willingly seeking medical help early on. I believed that common colds and flu symptoms didn’t justify a trip to the doctor. I convinced myself that there are far worse-off patients in the world who truly need that care more than I do and that I’d only be taking up valuable consulting space that they require.

Unfortunately, that experience almost cost me my life and seemed like the absolute end of the road. It forced me to confront a crucial question: it’s okay, and even necessary, to be a little selfish when it comes to our own well-being. We need to prioritize ourselves as number one so that we can be noticed and treated as early as possible. By doing this, we can return home from that trip to the doctor and start recovery mode sooner, which in turn frees up more appointment slots for patients who may need more urgent or intensive treatment. This cycle not only benefits others but also allows us to be truly grateful that we are not in such a difficult or unfortunate position ourselves.

I still struggle to this day with this format of trying to fully understand why this happened and the far-reaching consequences of a series of events that could have been avoided—not only by myself but also by the well-trained medical professionals involved before my hospital admittance. It really is such a fine line to walk and balance, trying to make sense of it all. However, there were certainly signs, and if I had picked up on them sooner, then surely things might have taken a very different turn… Well, you get the point.

The biggest problem I face is the aftercare that is given and how we might realistically change this if it’s even possible. For me, I had to complete this entire process on my own and manage it as best as I possibly could. The approach I followed was something I had to devise myself, since according to current medical knowledge, not enough is known about this “Grey Area” for sepsis survivors. Now, if you experience life-changing circumstances like the loss of limbs, brain disorders, or other severe physical impairments, then yes, appropriate aftercare is generally put in place and practiced to aid in recovery. But what about the mental side of things—the brain fog, the deep sense of embarrassment, and the overwhelming feeling of being a failure? The anxiety and constant stress of possibly falling sick again, and facing that difficult, broken path once more? It’s precisely these emotional and psychological challenges that require us to be proactive and find ways to manage this stress effectively, because ultimately, that mental strain is what we’re truly up against.

There is virtually no aftercare for this, no proper follow-up process beyond maybe the first month or so—but that’s not when it really hits you. It lies dormant in your mind, quietly hiding while your body slowly recovers, only to suddenly reveal itself a year later, or even longer. That’s been my personal experience with it. I suppose not many survivors openly discuss this because it often feels very much like the everyday stress and pressures we all face—but it’s not the same, and that’s what makes it so hard to explain. Perhaps it’s the heightened anger, the short fuse, or the complete lack of filter on your mouth, where situations escalate from zero to a thousand in a split second without any chance to pause and think. Or maybe it’s the deep fear of public places, where just one cough, a splash of spit, or touching a dirty handrail, toilet door, or anything that could bring another illness or infection sends you spiraling down that terrifying path once again. And we can’t forget the relentless frustration of cognitive issues and brain fog—the way sepsis plays havoc with your brain and mind, leaving you feeling lost and disconnected.

These are just a few of the many effects that other survivors might experience, much like I do. It can be incredibly hard and often very frustrating to cope with these changes. When you finally open up and speak about it, many who haven’t experienced sepsis themselves might respond with comments like, "Ah, well, I feel the same way," or "Yes, I forget things too, so don’t worry about it." But when this is all new to you and wasn’t part of your life before sepsis, it feels completely different and much more challenging. Explaining this to someone who hasn’t been through it can feel almost impossible, which adds another layer of frustration. Sometimes, what you really need is simply for people to listen—without immediately offering their opinions or advice—and that’s said with the utmost respect.

So the 7-step plan that I have put in place is more than just a simple plan; it’s a well-thought-out process with a clear method of working through problems that have a specific purpose. It provides me with the essential structure needed to accommodate unforeseen issues as they arise and that I currently have to deal with. I’ve realized that everything, even problems, follows a certain structure with related causes and effects. By recognizing this, I can approach problems more confidently. When they do arise, having a better, more organized plan allows me to give myself a much better chance to address and resolve the problem effectively.

My 7-step plan is available in my 7 step plan blog that details the plan and breaks it down it may help you, it helps me navigate with purpose and a feeling of success, its the marginal gains that count in a complex set up.

Keep going and Never give up