One day in March, I felt crappy. I can’t even tell you what the symptoms were but 
I was pretty weak. My husband, Danny, insisted I see a doctor and made an appointment. After an examination and blood test, I was asked to walk around the clinic but Icould only get half-way around. The doctor called Danny into the exam room and told him to take me to the emergency room immediately.
The emergency room was waiting for me and started x-rays and tests. I was
shown my lung x-rays which were covered in white puss. The doctors said that I was going into ICU and that they were going to have to suction my lungs. It would be a painful and extended process. They asked my permission to intubate me to make it easier and assured me that I would be sedated so that I wouldn’t experience discomfort. I had nothing to lose or so I believed so I agreed.
That is the last thing I remember clearly for about 3 weeks. I was intubated for 17 days which is an extended amount of time for intubation. While coming out of the fog, I went into a psychosis, had hallucinations and became unreasonable. It frightened me but I was told that it was normal given the medication and long stay in ICU. I have also read that it could be from Sepsis.
All I kept hearing from hospital doctors and staff was, “You are very, very sick.” The diagnosis was Streptococcal Bacteremia and Sepsis due to Pneumoccus. Oddly, my normal anxiety was at 0 and the doctors was at 100. Perhaps because they knew I almost kicked the bucket and I did not.
