I had covid for around 70 days and at one point it gave me bronchitis while I had the covid so I was coughing for around 5 minutes and gasping for air in between. Which scared the living hell out of me but tbh I don’t think I woulda died looking back on it now
I went into serotonin shock after starting a new OCD medication. I had no idea what was happening, and I couldn’t make my body speak or call for help. In my brain i was begging for 911 and felt that this was how I would die. I can’t say that I could see myself going through it, but it FELT like any stereotypical depiction of heroin withdrawal or overdose. Or maybe them both together. I probably looked like one of those videos of women you see flailing around on the ground high on drugs. I was finally able to stand and function well enough a full week later to tell someone about it, but no one I know knew anything about that either. So I waited for my 6 week checkup with my primary doctor before telling her what happened, because of course I didn’t want to bother her, and took the medication the whole time. She was mortified, and by that time my psychiatrist was afraid taking me off the medication would make it happen again, and I wasn’t currently having any major side effects, so they let me ride it out. That was 3 years ago or so. For what it’s worth, the medication is life-changing and I still take it daily
Probably kidney stones and appendicitis. Kidney stones = the most pain I’ve ever been in. Passed out several times. Appendicitis = didn’t listen to my body, brushed it off thinking I’ll come right. Nope, emergency surgery. Appendix was gangrenous and ready to burst. Dodged a bullet there, but still an idiot.
I had Covid, then half a year later I caught an RSV. I never got better. I had lung issues, brain issues, and lost my taste and smell. I was sick in a way that I don’t think a doctor can fix, aside from steroids. And I slept alot. I remember thinking I was dying, it was like a tide, that pulls back sand, as it recedes. Still not better, but not dying.
I had mono when I was 6 or 7. I’d come home and go straight to sleep. I don’t remember that part. But I had such a bad case of it I was hospitalized for it for 2 weeks.
About the same time last year. Had surgery to remove a polyp. Was supposed to be only an overnight stay. Became really ill during the night and had extreme pain in my tummy area. Overnight nurse was so concerned she called the surgeon at home. A whole team burst into my room to hook me up to a heart monitor, oxygen, and an IV that thankfully also contained morphine. The surgery resulted in a case of acute necrotizing pancreatitis and a 3-week stay in the hospital. Things were a little blurry back then, but I remember having a moment when it felt I was dying, just floating away into peace. And I remember thinking, “I think I might be dying. Hmm…I thought I would fight it more.” Still healing one year later.
Herpangina. For almost 2 weeks everything going down by throat (food, water, saliva) felt like swallowing broken glass. Lived on incredibly minuscule amounts of water in a fever state waiting for it to end.
I once had food poisoning so bad that I thought I was gonna die. I had this blinding pain from a migraine and I was throwing up. It felt like razor blades in my stomach. I ended up on the floor sobbing because I was in so much pain and was begging for it to end. I woke up in the morning and I was completely fine. 😅
I had infected bursitis in my elbow. It swelled up to nearly five times its normal size.
I was just 19 years old and have never experienced pain and fever like it since, I’m now 36. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies.
Gave birth. When I got home I had a feeling of impending doom. I told my husband we likely have to go to the ER. Check my BP and it’s in stroke territory.
Postpartum preeclampsia with severe features. No secondary symptoms other than BP and impending doom.
Stayed in the hospital a few days until they got my BP under control.
Had plueresy in my left lung around 25. Couldn’t take more than a tiny breath, and it hurt like hell. It felt like what I imagine being stabbed in the chest feels like. Couldn’t sleep hardly. Couldn’t lie down. Lasted a couple of weeks, had to work through it cause no insurance.
I had acute tonsillitis whilst working alone in the office, I’d never had it before and it hit me quick.
I didn’t know at the time what was wrong with me, and when I went to work I felt a little bit rough but a few hours later I was laying on the floor shivering, with a high fever, sweats and barely able to talk.
I don’t know how long I was laying on the floor wondering what was wrong before I got the energy to call someone to take me to A&E.
I later had to have my tonsils, adenoids and excess soft tissues in my throat removed once the antibiotics had done their job.
C. Diff, probably from an improperly sanitized piece of used medical equipment and cross contamination (my fault most likely). Somehow got pneumonia at the same time.
I was a few hours from death when I went to the ER.
Had a severe vertigo attack that lasted two full weeks. I was sweating profusly and dryheaving after vomiting. Was able to feed myself with squeese packets of baby food and crawling on the floor to the toilet. Had two loud frequencies of ringing in my ear and the worst was when the signals crossed. At the end of two weeks I was deaf in that ear and the nerve was dead. During the two weeks I had no sleep and did not know what reality was.
I had been sober for about 3 months and then relapsed over a weekend and drank like 2 half gallons of Titos over Sat/sun…and subsequently Monday before I snapped out of it.
I had some legal stuff going on and was too afraid to go to the ER, so I begged a biker dude I barely had just met to bring me a 6 pack of beer because I was so sick by Monday that I was detoxing already and could barely walk to pee….And I needed to taper down and have someone make sure I didnt die for a day. He said he’d do it if I bought him some coke, so I gave him the cash for it and I detoxed hard for a day.
Sweats, shaking, I couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t get warm, hallucinations, and I couldn’t get a stupid TV jingle out of my head for hours. I kept dry heaving and almost shitting myself. I laid on the hardwood floor because that was the only place I could be cold and warm at the same time (under a blanket). I remember wondering if I was going to die.
Yeah. Biker dude said he would never do that again and it was the scariest shit he’d seen in his life. But he did clean the ever living fuck out of my kitchen.
Influenza B + kidney infection at the same time. Never felt that sick in my life. I got in trouble at work because I didn’t follow their “system” for calling in sick. I couldn’t even hold my phone and just had my wife text my boss for me. The only thing they asked was when I could come back…
Spinal cord tumor … waiting to hear what grade it was. Luckily it was grade 2, but it can come back … possibly as grade 3 (cancerous). It’s been almost 10 years now and twice yearly MRIs show it is still gone. Here’s hoping it stays that way.
I think the worst I’ve ever been was when I ended up in hospital for a week with viral meningitis I was at school when I suddenly had severe headache with the lights hurting my eyes. Rash the whole way up both arms.
I was in science, my teacher wouldn’t let me go to the nurse due to other kids in the lesson messing around. She told me to do my work and go after class. I couldn’t keep my eyes open so head was on my desk. The science tech came in to bring Bunsen burners in. She asked what was wrong and the teacher talking over hear was saying there was nothing wrong with me and I was clearly just trying to get out of work. Once I explained to the tech about the headache and lights she took my temp and then she spotted the rash she ran to get a glass and it didn’t disappear. She called 999 while making a friend use my phone to call my mum. She told me after I was back at school she reported the teacher to the headteacher.
Mum made it to the school somehow before the ambulance so her car then got locked in the school thankfully dad had a car haha
A week after I was discharged however still had to keep an IV in and a nurse came to the house for ten days for antibiotics.
I panic everytime my kids get a rash. Two of them have actually given us this scare too. Thankfully it wasn’t.
No one has said alcohol withdrawal yet. But that would constitute my entire top ten. Feels like you’re inside a giant ringing bell and the temperature fluctuating between Hell and Antarctica. Crawling to the kitchen to try and keep down a slice of bread and a beer, spilling the beer everywhere. Its like having a seizure while conscious. And just emotionally feeling intense regret because you know you did it to yourself, and likely did something else regrettable on top of it all.
Not to be THAT guy, but my mental health at its lowest was horrendous. Rock bottom kept getting deeper.
From the ages of 11 and a half to 18, I thought of suicide every. Single. Day. The depression garnered anxiety, then the anxiety planted paranoia which reached an insane level, quite literally the stress gave me tics and I couldn’t even eat, sleep, or drink sometimes. I’ve attempted upwards of 7 times (planning and being 🤏 this close is not included, otherwise we’d be in the 10s and maybe 20s). On top of all that, I was 16 when it was pointed out I DEFINITELY have ADHD and 17 when people started telling me I showed signs of autism.
Genuinely, I don’t know how I didn’t die from at least some of the attempts. Some were understandable, but there’s some that bewilder me. I also don’t know how I didn’t get a severe infection from self harm, that bewilders me still.
I’m going to be 21 in two months. Life has been cruel in many ways, but the joy I feel when I get to do the things I love and doing things in a manner that’s unusual to some but it makes sense to me, 15 year old me wouldn’t recognize me. 17 year old me wanted so bad to be who I am now (minus a lot of trauma). I’m really happy I’m here. Plus, now I get to joke about it and I cope in cool ways often. Life is a rollercoaster, but I’m learning how to hold on.
Was fairly new at getting very strong chemo for an aggressive cancer (I lost all my hair just hours after the first treatment). I overheard a young nurse say that some patients just upchuck until it passes, like flu, rather than taking pills for nausea. Wrong. I upchucked every couple hours for almost four days on no food. I was afraid I would die and then was afraid I wouldn’t. Couldn’t lift my arms or walk. Was taken to the ER and given every intravenous fluid known to man. It took five hours, but I could stand up after it at least. Cancer is a bitch. This was five years ago. I’m cancer free now. Thank you, Science.
10 years ago I picked up a random chest infection that started off as a bad cough but developed into a post nasal drip. This meant my sinuses would regularly drip mucus down the back of my throat, into my lungs.
While the goop was in my lungs it would dry out a little and eventually I’d cough it up but it would have the consistency of glue and it would immediately block my throat causing me to choke. I would then have to retch, hoping to clear my throat before I choked to death. It could take a couple minutes to clear my throat, all the while I didn’t know if I’d survive as my vision started to dim and I slowly lost consciousness. This was happening every few hours for a week.
But the absolute worse part was that it would happen while I was asleep. I’d just suddenly wake up, already choking and with my lungs only partially filled with air so I could never be sure my body would have enough air pressure to clear my throat. I was so afraid of it happening that I went without sleep for 3 days but it got to the point I knew I could no longer keep myself awake.
I lived alone and there was no one nearby that could look after me. So I put out extra helpings of cat food and water out because I knew it’d be a few days before someone discovered my body.
I drifted off to sleep knowing that I’d soon wake up again with a blocked throat.
Luckily I was able to eventually fight off the infection and the drip stopped. Worse thing that ever happened to me.
Got a severe case of salmonella poisoning from chicken salad at a bagel shop. Was going back and forth from my be to the bathroom for a week and a half. With no sick leave from my job, I willed myself out of bed and into my car to get back to work. Collapsed in the parking lot, was airlifted to the hospital and pumps full of fluids as I was deathly dehydrated. That was 15 years or so ago and I haven’t eaten chicken salad since.
I got heatstroke at work. Didn’t know what was wrong. Tried to drive myself home, half conscious. Shaking uncontrollably and vomiting out my car door on the side of the highway. I called my husband for help, he didnt care. My mom picked me up and took me home and watched over me since I refused the hospital.
Eating disorder. Waking up in a hospital and being told I couldn’t leave, couldn’t go to the bathroom without being watched, couldn’t even walk without a wheelchair was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s quite disheartening to be told at 15 that your body might give up at any moment, especially when the alternative (eating) scared me more than death. Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
In July of 23 I woke up around midnight. Couldn’t breathe. I suspected I was having a heart attack. Walked into the er. My husband drove me. Said barely able to speak the words heart attack. Rushed into triage. They start taking my pressure and oxygen level. Oxygen was at 80. They were asking me questions. Apparently I had a cardiac arrest at that point.
The next thing I remember is hearing someone using my full first name telling me to open my eyes and look at them. No one uses my real first name. Like seriously no one. Once I was coherent it was explained to me what had happened. Around 6-7 hours had passed. I was stable enough for a angiogram. I had two 100% blockages and an 80%. That afternoon I had a triple bypass operation heart surgery.
Recovery was difficult. However I have worked hard and my last echo shows my heart is currently at a 55 which is considered normal. I’m not in heart failure any longer.
I had no idea. Yes I have an extensive family history of heart disease. However my personal history had always been good. No high blood pressure or other indicators. Slightly high cholesterol but nothing crazy high or to the point my doctor wanted to put me on meds either. I actually didn’t take a single rx prior to this.
My surgeon was a pediatric cardiac surgeon because my anatomy is considered small. I’m a small lady. He no doubt saved my life. I’m told my surgery took about 9 hours. He said he had to work very slowly and it was intricate but that’s his specialty. I was his last patient before he retired. He just happened to be in the hospital that morning and was asked to look at my case. I don’t know if I would have survived had he not been there. Apparently it was dire that the surgery be done immediately despite its risk.
The first time I had kidney stones. The pain was so intense that I truly thought I had an undiagnosed tumor that burst and I only had moments left. It was the only time that I cried and begged for pain meds. Whew boy that was an experience.
Before I got pregnant I’d never had heartburn, but I knew it was common during pregnancy. The further along I got the worse and more frequent it became until the night when I was 32 weeks pregnant and woke up at 4 am so sick and in so much pain that I couldn’t walk and hubby called an ambulance. Turned out that what I thought was heartburn was actually gallbladder attacks and that when you ignore them long enough you get pancreatitis to go along with it. They got me stabilized within 18 or so hours after they figured out what tests and drugs were safe for a pregnant woman. Then, two days after I got to the hospital I got a pulmonary embolism in my right lung and things got really bad. There were no icu wards for pregnant patients so they built me one. I was doped up, they couldn’t get the fever down, and they were giving me steroid shots to try and develop the baby’s lungs quicker in case they had to get him out of there. And I really thought I’d be dead before I ever saw him. Then it suddenly turned and I was okay again and made it all the way to my due date on a special diet and constant blood thinners. But I still have nightmares about it sometimes 24 years later.
When I was younger, I used to get very severe tonsillitis. Like I would have to get penicillin injections, I had been sent to the hospital for IV antibiotics multiple times because my throat would almost close up completely.
So, this one time when I was 19 or 20, I got tonsillitis again. About a week later, I was just getting worse. But now I also had a cough and it hurt to breathe. I had developed pneumonia. I had super high fevers, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, it hurt to cough because of my tonsillitis, but I had to cough constantly, it was like I was choking on nothing when I coughed. I felt like I was just going to stop breathing and that was going to be the end of me. I ended up in hospital overnight for the first time ever so they could pump a shit load of antibiotics into me for 24hrs. It helped a lot but I was still really sick for ages after that.
Like, I was this 19 / 20 year old crying for her mum because it just hurt to be alive. I was so scared, I didn’t know what was wrong.
I was 16 and got toxic shock syndrome (TSS) from tampon use. When they tell you don’t leave it in too long, they’re not kidding around. I had such high fevers, I remember hallucinating while watching Freddy Vrs Jason and I thought I could see the gears in my brain working and ticking away, while talking to Freddy Krueger lol.
Then the diarrhoea started and it was like water every 10 minutes. I shat the bed. I remember being delirious on the ground, watching the sheets being stripped, while I continued just leaking my bowels on the ground. I stood up, it continued to pour out of me. Absolutely no control of it. Then I started throwing up. All while having a sore throat that felt like razor blades every time I swallowed or you know, threw up some more. I slept a lot, when I wasn’t shitting myself.
After all that, my entire body developed a red rash and my full body peeled, hands and feet being the worst. It was like layers of dead skinning coming off me.
The worst week of my life right there. I’ve had covid, the flu, chicken pox as an adult, given natural birth twice and had an abscessed tooth and honestly… The humiliation of not being able to control my body was the worst of it all.
Complications from colon cancer surgery. Surgery was successful but intestines wouldn’t turn back on – they remained paralyzed. Doctors kept saying there was nothing they could do but wait, intestines would start working again eventually. I couldn’t eat or drink anything for two weeks. Was put on a PICC line for TPN feeding to stay alive. After two weeks my intestines did turn on – and I am sorry but there is not sufficient words in the English language to describe the foul, putrid, rancid, filth that poured out uncontrollably from my backside after festering inside me for two weeks. I had no control of my bowels when they turned back on and I would literally have this putrid shit all over the hospital room. The nurses (God bless them!) would clean me and the room up and 5 minutes later everything would be uncontrollably covered in liquid, putrid, filth yet again. My anus became inflamed and infected from all of this.
But with my bowels back on well at least I could eat right? Nope. The risk of refeeding syndrome meant I had to remain on TPN feeding and receive only tiny amounts of real food despite my now ravenous appetite. Wallowing uncontrollably in my filth also meant I got an antibiotic resistant UTI.
After three weeks and losing 30 lbs I was able to go home. It took a full year for me to recover.
One thing people don’t talk about with tonsillitis is that it can actually become dangerous. It’s extremely rare from what a doctor told me.
Every year like clockwork between November and January I always seem to get tonsillitis which lasts three to four weeks and usually leaves me bedridden and taking a cocktail of medication just to get through it. One year however I was unable to actually sleep and found myself having a heavy continious dry cough and struggling to breathe in the kitchen at four in the morning. I tried to drink something only to somehow be unable to actually swallow it and barely keep it in my mouth. If my family hadn’t had found me I probably would be sporting a neck scar right now. By six in the morning I was being rushed to hospital while sat up with my head leaning into a bowl because I couldnt even swallow saliva build up in my mouth and it was making the choking so much worse.
My tonsils turned out to be so swollen and actually had bursting pus spots that it was restricting my breathing severely. While having my throat checked I actually heard “oh my god, I cannot even see your throat” and immediately I was put on to some very strong antibiotics. They told me if the swelling didn’t go down in the next few hours, they would need to open my throat to help me breathe.
Thankfully after a few hours I could breathe a little better and even swallow a little. I was at one point throwing up which caused more pus to leak though. Somehow even after all that I was still turned down for tonsil removal. Never mind the fact that I nearly suffocated because the requirements are pretty much having tonsillitis multiple times in a year. I feel like after what I went through I should’ve recieved that tonsil removal.
Ever since then whenever the tonsillitis flares up I immediately demand the antibiotics and get a little too scared to sleep for the next month or so.
Stage 3 lymphoma diagnosis at age 29. Responded to treatment, but keeps coming back. I’ve had five relapses, for a total of six treatments, one of which (#4) was a bone marrow/stem cell transplant. During the BMT I developed pneumonia. I reached a point where I had no fuggs left to give and didn’t know if I even wanted to survive anymore. But here I am. Next CT and doctor visit next week.
Had an Eating disorder (bulimia, super underweight) in my late teens. Had to have my heart and blood monitored regularly or else I’d be on a feeding tube.
Slept for 12+ hours daily and could not physically digest something without wanting to get it out of my body asap.
Fixed it over the course of years and I am just thankful I didn’t have an esophagus rupture, heart attack, or have any teeth fall out. Medical expenses and scares are probably in my future but I’m just glad to experience each day 🙂
I got “complications” from chemo treatment for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma – got within a few hours of death before I got pulled back. I put it in quotations because the docs still don’t know what it was or why it happened. All I knew was that my heart rate was 178 laying down, my oxygen was dipping under 80% (for which they couldn’t provide me with oxygen due to one of the chemo drugs – Bleomycin is a bitch), and I had a rolling fever of 104 degrees.
Let me tell you, there is no feeling on this earth that is as doom-like as being oxygen hungry for an extended period of time – I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy.
In any case, I got really close. One day after a week in the ICU, I knew it was my last. The docs were out of ideas. They had tried antibiotics, antifungals, anti-virals – they really took the kitchen sink approach. Heart stress tests, an esophageal echocardiogram. You name it; nothing was working.
When you get that close, you can feel it. For me at least, death became like a physical presence in the room with me. I’m not sure I can quite describe the feeling. I didn’t want to go because I had a wife and two kids, and begged the universe to let me stay (call it praying, or whatever you want – I’m not religious). It felt like it would be the easiest thing in the world to just let go. To give in. Maybe it was the fever, but it felt like I was being called home – like I was about to become part of something so much infinitely bigger than myself again. Back to where I came from. I wasn’t scared of it, and I don’t think when you’re at that point that it will be scary. It just… is. It feels inviting. I think you just let go and… go.
Anyway, that was five years ago this month, so clearly I got better. 🙂 Later that last day, after some begging on my part after seeing a post on reddit from someone with similar symptoms, the docs gave me a really strong dose of steroids that they had sworn wouldn’t do anything, and it worked. My oncologist told me later that he saw me slipping away, and they didn’t know what else to do so they tried it, and they still don’t know why it worked or what happened. But thankfully I’m still here and about to hit my cure date in a couple of months.
When I was 28, I had a fever of over 106°F. I went unconscious and had seizures. They had to keep me in an ice bath for a long time. I woke up 3 days later with retrograde amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything after high school. It took about two weeks for my memories to really start coming back completely. It was pretty frightening until then. I had to put a lot of trust in my girlfriend, who had just moved in with me a couple of months earlier, but then I couldn’t remember anything about her. She was very patient and kind. Then, a week after I recovered, she cheated on me with her boss and a random 19 year old in the same week, subsequently giving me chlamydia and then becoming my ex-girlfriend when she confessed as she gave me the antibiotics and explained what they were for.
Anaphylactic reaction. I knew I was dying because I felt my body shutting down. I got tunnel vision and I thought “this is it.” Kind of a weird feeling at 12 years old. Had to be brought back twice and helicoptered to different hospitals. Hospitalized for over a week afterwards. Couldn’t believe how weak my body was after discharge.
I found out the hard way that I can’t take Maxolon or Stemitil – I go into occulogyric crisis. Seriously thought I was going to die. The back of my head was almost touching my shoulder blades and I was having trouble breathing.
A few shots of hydrocortisone fixed it, but I’ll never forget the look of fear in the eyes of the young doctor at Emergency – she was terrified (I can say she had the loveliest green eyes I’ve ever seen) – and the Senior Registrar was saying to her “You know what this is. What do you have to do?” I’m laying there thinking ‘just fucking tell her!! lol
I had appendicitis and my mother was a recently divorced single mom working full time. She kept telling me to take a warm bath because that always helps her feel better when she hurts. Got to the point where I couldn’t move and we got a police escort from the local ER to the nearest hospital that could operate on a child. 2ish hour drive and they said I would’ve been dead the next day if I didn’t go in.
I had twins in 2019 (no cesarean, for context). About 4 or 5 days postpartum I developed a horrible ache in my lower-mid back area on either side of my spine. Had no clue what it was but it hurt like a motherfucker. Sometime on day 6 the muscle spasms in my back started, so any time I tried to lay down or moved too much my entire back seized up. 1 week postpartum I went to the ER. Doctor barely looked at me. No labs at all, prescribed a muscle relaxer and kicked me out.
Next day, day 8, is my follow up with my OB. Not only is she furious about the ER trip the previous day, she gave me a shot of antibiotics in the office before my piss test even came back, because it was that obvious that I had a raging kidney infection in both kidneys. So she sends me home with a prescription for a strong antibiotic and a prescription for dilaudid because I was in agony.
I took the dilaudid to the letter because I’m the daughter of 2 addicts and abused the shit out of OTC meds. Still couldn’t lay down, so I was sleeping in the recliner in the living room. Had to be ridiculously cautious with how I moved or else my back would try to turn into a pretzel because the muscle relaxer did not do a fucking thing. So I basically live in the goddamn recliner and have my babies handed to me because bending over was an absolutely fucking not. Water started tasting absolutely horrid by this point, I could barely get it down and even that required a shit ton of crystal lite powder. My body absolutely did not want any more fluids.
Day 9 I started developing a cough. My best friend came to visit and spend the night that day to keep me company (I adore her). Day 10 I woke up at 7am and I could barely breathe. Next to no lung capacity, just tiny little pants. I was reluctant to go see a doctor again after the ER but she told me I needed to go, so I called and made an appointment with the first doctor who had an opening, at 8am.
That woman literally saved my life. It took her all of 30 seconds to see that something was very, very wrong. She said she’d do an x ray, then she examined me the best she could without hurting me, listened to my lungs attempt to do their job (and fail miserably), then she stepped out and called my OB. When she came back in she told me I was being admitted to the hospital and they’d do the x ray and a CT there. She let me drive myself to the hospital since I’d driven myself to the clinic. My OB managed to get me re admitted in maternity since I’d just been there and she’d be able to keep up with me easier. Once I was up there 4 nurses came into the room to get me set up and rushed me off to CT where I hopped to the front of the line, apparently in front of someone out of a car accident.
Pretty sure they thought it was an embolism, but it wasn’t, it was pulmonary edema. Clearly connected to the kidney infection, but I’m not sure how. Presumably my kidneys were in worse shape than I realized at the time and all of the fluid had to find somewhere else to go. If you’ve ever seen a spirometer, I couldn’t even get it up to 500. I got it to the first line, so 250-300ish (healthy I can hit 3000 easy). I was told later that if I hadn’t gone in, I’d have died in my sleep that night, at the latest, from drowning in my own lungs sitting upright.
I was hospitalized for 3 nights on an IV of saline, antibiotics, lasix, and dilaudid. After I was discharged it took me a month before I could lay down and 2 months to kick the lingering pneumonia (that’s what they called it).
If anyone has any guesses why or how things cascaded that way please fill me in, I’m still curious.
I fell and suffered a brain bleed which left me stuck on my floor for 30 hours before medical intervention. During that time on the floor I developed an infection that went to my bloodstream (sepsis). The ICU stay was really traumatizing for many reasons, but I know I got very lucky.
Pregnancy. Hyperemesis. I couldn’t eat for months and was so weak I couldn’t walk or do anything. The moment she was born, everything was gone, I had my strength and appetite back and it was like it had never happened. So wild.
It was November of last year. I was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer in September and I was receiving chemotherapy and immunotherapy. I had a plastic tube going into my right arm (called a PICC line) and one night I noticed the skin under the clear plastic dressing covering the PICC was a little bit red and itchy around the edges.
Later that night, I woke myself up scratching my skin and realised the rash had spread to cover most of my body. I had to rub myself with ice packs for some relief and was sending my nurse care team pictures of my rashy butt at 3am. By the next day I was in hospital with a grade 3 dermatitis over all my body (including palms of hands, soles of feet and inside my mouth).
The rash was caused by my own immune system attacking my body because of the immunotherapy. My liver markers showed that I was also suffering from immunotherapy induced hepatitis. I was in hospital for several days on an IV receiving steroids. I’ve never felt as ill as that, but thankfully the steroids worked. When they discharged me I was taking 90 mg prednisolone (I weighed 62 kg) which is a high dose.
I’m waiting on my pathology results from surgery – I’ll find out tomorrow what the next steps in treatment are. Check your chests, people!
I had a miscarriage. I didn’t know I was pregnant, it was very early, and my period wasn’t even late.
I suddenly felt really sick. My stomach hurt so badly, I threw up everything I had. I couldn’t eat or drink without puking. I ended up dehydrated, couldn’t even walk, barely talk. I felt awful.
I was alone with my 3-year-old, who was sleeping. I called emergency services, but they told me to suck it up, it was probably just a stomach bug.
My husband was three hours away and no family was available. He rushed to help, but there wasn’t much he could do.
I truly felt like I was going to die. I passed out a few times, then, suddenly, it all stopped—just like that.
I went from feeling horrible to full of energy.
I went to the hospital, they ran a few tests and it turned out I had been pregnant and was miscarrying.
I guess my body just didn’t want that baby.
I got malaria in Kenya. Even better, I had some imposter syndrome about my job at the time so I didn’t tell any of the doctors that I was surrounded with how bad it was. I just holed up in my room and didn’t come out for a few days. I’ve never sweat completely through a mattress before or since, with droplets hitting the floor from the underside and a nice puddle.
It was also the only time in my adult life I’ve ever felt a fever truly break. As in, in a matter of seconds I went from the sickest I’ve ever been in my life to feeling completely, 100% fine. (Just a bit thirsty) It was so odd after days of boiling and freezing in my own skin.
When someone spiked my drink, at first I just became extremely drunk. Then I lost the ability to form words.. like, I tried talking but nobody could understand me. I don’t remember it clearly, but I must have decided to walk home. Suddenly, I found myself in an alley. My muscles stopped working and I collapsed to the ground in the middle of the night. I wasn’t able to move or speak at this point.
My vision got completely messed up, and I remember just feeling like I was sinking into the dark, unable to fight it. Everyone around me seemed super far away and strangely tall. Toward the end, I had tunnel vision and couldn’t stop puking. I struggled so much to stay conscious. It was terrifying.
Thankfully, some kids noticed me. They apparently walked with me, managed to unlock my phone, and called my family. They stayed with me through the whole thing, they literally saved my life. When I recovered, I managed to find them. They told me they had thought I was just really wasted, but then they saw a man following me from a distance. That’s when they realized I might be in danger.
To this day, I still feel like crying when I think about what could have happened, and how terrifying it was.
The worst part? Three days later, I checked my phone and found several clear notes I’d typed saying, “I think someone put something in my drink.” I wasn’t able to talk, but I could still think and type clearly. I do remember trying to show it to the bartenders… who didn’t help me. That still enrages me.
Meningitis. I was feeling like I had a bit of flu or a cold in the morning but nothing serious. I had to go to school to write two exams that day. During the first I started getting a killer headache, so I just lay on the floor for the break. I finished my second exam within an hour so I was “good” but passed out at my desk for the next 2 hours. When the invigilator had to shake me to get my paper they realised something was off. My mom picked me up and by the time we got to the hospital I could barely walk. I had to wait quite a while (maybe an hour?) before I saw a doctor and by that time I couldn’t open my eyes anymore because the light would cause extreme pain in my head. The doctor saw me for like 5 minutes and knew what was up. I was immediately admitted.
By this time I couldn’t walk and I was experiencing a weird type of synesthesia (which I don’t normally have).
The doctor immediately put me on the right meds (I can’t remember if it was viral or bacterial, but luckily they didn’t have to tap my spine). Weird thing is, I felt okay by the next morning on the drugs. I was in hospital for 4 days but they told me I had to quarantine at home. So I missed like half of my final exams while playing PlayStation and taking a shit load of drugs.
My parents were convinced I may end up in a coma or dead, because I was starting to say extremely strange things, and I remember thinking “this is it” when I couldn’t walk or open my eyes. I’m just so grateful that that doctor got it right so quickly.
Edit: upon reading more (promoted by this question) I think I had a bacterial infection because I’m from Sub-Saharan Africa and it occurred late November/early December. I never knew that the “meningitis belt” was a thing.
Got dysentery while backpacking in India. I was camping at a mediation retreat at the time, and my camp was just a little bit away from the main area (like 100 metres, not actually far, but on the other side of a bamboo grove), and no one thought to come looking for me until I’d not shown up at breakfast for 3 days. By which point I was fully unconscious, had shat myself almost to death, was too weak to lift my head enough to sip water. Someone had robbed me while I was unconscious and thankfully thrown my passport into a bush, but left me with no money at all and no credit card or anything.
It was bad. Very very bad. Amazingly, all of my hippie friends were suddenly very busy elsewhere 🙄. Some backpacker from England, whom I’d not actually met before, stepped up, made a stretcher, and carried me out to the nearest place – a farmhouse about 2km away. The farmer took me in and his wife nursed me back to health over a couple of weeks.
They were incredibly poor people, living in a mud hut with a cow dung floor. But they fed me fresh warm milk direct from their buffalo every morning and brought me turmeric and cumin broths and whatever traditional herbal medicine.
As I slowly got better, I connected a lot with the wife, she taught me how to make chapatti on a clay oven, and how to make a really good dal. I learned some Hindi as well.
When I was finally well enough to leave – still really quite sick and weak, but I really wanted to get to civilisation and cancel my credit card and see a proper doctor and stuff 😅 – I profusely thanked them both, and I neatly folded up the hand-spun wool blanket the farmer had given me to use (my sleeping bag was in a truly revolting state and had needed to be incinerated).
But when I tried to give the man back the blanket, he flatly refused, insisting that I keep it. Obviously I couldn’t accept it, I might have been in a very poor circumstance and had zero money at all at the time, but I still had my rich, western country passport and home to go back to, and these people were poor; I couldn’t take their blanket, especially after all they’d done for me. Anyway we went back and forth for a bit, struggling because he didn’t speak English and my Hindi was only a handful of phrases at that point.
Finally I handed it to him and said “this is your blanket, I can’t accept it, but thank you for everything”
And he said “you’re right, it’s my blanket. And I’m giving it to you”.
That man changed my life. In that moment I realised I was blocking him from giving, and that was a shitty thing to do to someone who had been so insanely kind to me.
This was 25 years ago. I still have the blanket.
Edit: thank you for all the kind words and awards. Since so many people asked, here is a photo of the blanket that I just took now. It’s looking very well worn, but still functions as intended, despite being very old and well travelled. https://imgur.com/a/UFvDVwo#Z7wNfKh
My parents left me in a hot car when I was super little, and I can just barely remember the hospital visits that followed. To this day, I can barely tolerate hot weather in general.
My apendix died, got infected and burst, leaking pus all throughout my insides when I was about 15 years old.
My mum dismissed me as being a hyperchondriac and blamed it on me sneaking vodka cruisers that week when we were on holidays in a rural area. Then blamed it on gastro from some dodgey food I may have eaten.
After vomiting for 4 days straight, one morning she woke up to me screaming in pain, my skin completely grey, my stomach had a noticeable yellow bloat pushing out from the inside and I physically couldn’t move or talk. I’d gone into sepsis. I kept going in and out of consciousness.
She panicked and took me to the hospital which was 45mins away, it was apparently the worst the Drs had ever seen and didn’t have a surgeon capable of operating on it. I was so sure I was going to die that day, the look on the Drs and nurses faces said it all. Child services were also called as my apendix had signs of dying and being infected from up to 2 weeks.
They airlifted me to another hospital another hour away and finally operated on. The pus has spread everywhere, so they opened me up pretty good to wash it all out (I have a pretty cool scar). Got to see a photo of it, but sadly the Drs incineratored it before I woke up so I couldn’t keep it in a preservation jar 🙁
Septic arthritis. Couldn’t move my arm. Needed gas and air to put it in a sling!! Had been sent by my GP two weeks earlier when symptoms started. Hospital registrar dismissed me with “it’s nothing” . Two surgeries later to clean infection out of my shoulder, I am now awaiting a shoulder replacement as my joint has been destroyed.
Many years ago, I had a pregnancy that went septic at 23 weeks because of a bacteria that normally causes meningitis. I had to be provoked and give birth while having septic shock. My blood pressure was so low they were afraid they would have to amputate my foot.
My baby lived for a few painful minutes after birth, but we would both have died if I hadn’t been able to decide to provoke the birth. This is why access to abortion is important, it saves lives. My other daughter would have lost her mom as a toddler.
Comments
Asthma attack every fucking week, I have dupixent so don’t worry
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I had covid for around 70 days and at one point it gave me bronchitis while I had the covid so I was coughing for around 5 minutes and gasping for air in between. Which scared the living hell out of me but tbh I don’t think I woulda died looking back on it now
I went into serotonin shock after starting a new OCD medication. I had no idea what was happening, and I couldn’t make my body speak or call for help. In my brain i was begging for 911 and felt that this was how I would die. I can’t say that I could see myself going through it, but it FELT like any stereotypical depiction of heroin withdrawal or overdose. Or maybe them both together. I probably looked like one of those videos of women you see flailing around on the ground high on drugs. I was finally able to stand and function well enough a full week later to tell someone about it, but no one I know knew anything about that either. So I waited for my 6 week checkup with my primary doctor before telling her what happened, because of course I didn’t want to bother her, and took the medication the whole time. She was mortified, and by that time my psychiatrist was afraid taking me off the medication would make it happen again, and I wasn’t currently having any major side effects, so they let me ride it out. That was 3 years ago or so. For what it’s worth, the medication is life-changing and I still take it daily
Had swine flu growing up. Permanently wrecked my immune system, that was pretty bad
Probably kidney stones and appendicitis. Kidney stones = the most pain I’ve ever been in. Passed out several times. Appendicitis = didn’t listen to my body, brushed it off thinking I’ll come right. Nope, emergency surgery. Appendix was gangrenous and ready to burst. Dodged a bullet there, but still an idiot.
Lost my mind after taking multiple drugs. Had an out of body experience where I felt super wet like I was coming out of an incubation tank.
Then I wanted to go lie down on my bed, but my mind manifested my mate who guided me back to my body.
In hindsight, I feel like if I lay down that was gonna be it.
Eventually came back into my body and was stuck in a loop of going to the kitchen and my room.
Genuinely terrifying experience.
Covid
I had Covid, then half a year later I caught an RSV. I never got better. I had lung issues, brain issues, and lost my taste and smell. I was sick in a way that I don’t think a doctor can fix, aside from steroids. And I slept alot. I remember thinking I was dying, it was like a tide, that pulls back sand, as it recedes. Still not better, but not dying.
I had mono when I was 6 or 7. I’d come home and go straight to sleep. I don’t remember that part. But I had such a bad case of it I was hospitalized for it for 2 weeks.
About the same time last year. Had surgery to remove a polyp. Was supposed to be only an overnight stay. Became really ill during the night and had extreme pain in my tummy area. Overnight nurse was so concerned she called the surgeon at home. A whole team burst into my room to hook me up to a heart monitor, oxygen, and an IV that thankfully also contained morphine. The surgery resulted in a case of acute necrotizing pancreatitis and a 3-week stay in the hospital. Things were a little blurry back then, but I remember having a moment when it felt I was dying, just floating away into peace. And I remember thinking, “I think I might be dying. Hmm…I thought I would fight it more.” Still healing one year later.
Herpangina. For almost 2 weeks everything going down by throat (food, water, saliva) felt like swallowing broken glass. Lived on incredibly minuscule amounts of water in a fever state waiting for it to end.
When I had a ruptured appendix. The pain. The surgery. Recovery. It was a horrific time that I’ve needed CBT because of.
I once had food poisoning so bad that I thought I was gonna die. I had this blinding pain from a migraine and I was throwing up. It felt like razor blades in my stomach. I ended up on the floor sobbing because I was in so much pain and was begging for it to end. I woke up in the morning and I was completely fine. 😅
As a child I was prone to getting a very high fever at least once a year, it was so high I started hallucinating and nearly could have died.
My record was 42.4°C or 108.32°F
I had infected bursitis in my elbow. It swelled up to nearly five times its normal size.
I was just 19 years old and have never experienced pain and fever like it since, I’m now 36. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies.
Gave birth. When I got home I had a feeling of impending doom. I told my husband we likely have to go to the ER. Check my BP and it’s in stroke territory.
Postpartum preeclampsia with severe features. No secondary symptoms other than BP and impending doom.
Stayed in the hospital a few days until they got my BP under control.
Had plueresy in my left lung around 25. Couldn’t take more than a tiny breath, and it hurt like hell. It felt like what I imagine being stabbed in the chest feels like. Couldn’t sleep hardly. Couldn’t lie down. Lasted a couple of weeks, had to work through it cause no insurance.
0/10, wouldn’t recommend
I had acute tonsillitis whilst working alone in the office, I’d never had it before and it hit me quick.
I didn’t know at the time what was wrong with me, and when I went to work I felt a little bit rough but a few hours later I was laying on the floor shivering, with a high fever, sweats and barely able to talk.
I don’t know how long I was laying on the floor wondering what was wrong before I got the energy to call someone to take me to A&E.
I later had to have my tonsils, adenoids and excess soft tissues in my throat removed once the antibiotics had done their job.
Had food poisoning once. Not exaggerating, I thought I was going to die.
C. Diff, probably from an improperly sanitized piece of used medical equipment and cross contamination (my fault most likely). Somehow got pneumonia at the same time.
I was a few hours from death when I went to the ER.
Had a severe vertigo attack that lasted two full weeks. I was sweating profusly and dryheaving after vomiting. Was able to feed myself with squeese packets of baby food and crawling on the floor to the toilet. Had two loud frequencies of ringing in my ear and the worst was when the signals crossed. At the end of two weeks I was deaf in that ear and the nerve was dead. During the two weeks I had no sleep and did not know what reality was.
The last time I detoxed off of alcohol 🙁
I had been sober for about 3 months and then relapsed over a weekend and drank like 2 half gallons of Titos over Sat/sun…and subsequently Monday before I snapped out of it.
I had some legal stuff going on and was too afraid to go to the ER, so I begged a biker dude I barely had just met to bring me a 6 pack of beer because I was so sick by Monday that I was detoxing already and could barely walk to pee….And I needed to taper down and have someone make sure I didnt die for a day. He said he’d do it if I bought him some coke, so I gave him the cash for it and I detoxed hard for a day.
Sweats, shaking, I couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t get warm, hallucinations, and I couldn’t get a stupid TV jingle out of my head for hours. I kept dry heaving and almost shitting myself. I laid on the hardwood floor because that was the only place I could be cold and warm at the same time (under a blanket). I remember wondering if I was going to die.
Yeah. Biker dude said he would never do that again and it was the scariest shit he’d seen in his life. But he did clean the ever living fuck out of my kitchen.
6 months and some change sober now thank FUCK
Influenza B + kidney infection at the same time. Never felt that sick in my life. I got in trouble at work because I didn’t follow their “system” for calling in sick. I couldn’t even hold my phone and just had my wife text my boss for me. The only thing they asked was when I could come back…
Spinal cord tumor … waiting to hear what grade it was. Luckily it was grade 2, but it can come back … possibly as grade 3 (cancerous). It’s been almost 10 years now and twice yearly MRIs show it is still gone. Here’s hoping it stays that way.
I think the worst I’ve ever been was when I ended up in hospital for a week with viral meningitis I was at school when I suddenly had severe headache with the lights hurting my eyes. Rash the whole way up both arms.
I was in science, my teacher wouldn’t let me go to the nurse due to other kids in the lesson messing around. She told me to do my work and go after class. I couldn’t keep my eyes open so head was on my desk. The science tech came in to bring Bunsen burners in. She asked what was wrong and the teacher talking over hear was saying there was nothing wrong with me and I was clearly just trying to get out of work. Once I explained to the tech about the headache and lights she took my temp and then she spotted the rash she ran to get a glass and it didn’t disappear. She called 999 while making a friend use my phone to call my mum. She told me after I was back at school she reported the teacher to the headteacher.
Mum made it to the school somehow before the ambulance so her car then got locked in the school thankfully dad had a car haha
A week after I was discharged however still had to keep an IV in and a nurse came to the house for ten days for antibiotics.
I panic everytime my kids get a rash. Two of them have actually given us this scare too. Thankfully it wasn’t.
No one has said alcohol withdrawal yet. But that would constitute my entire top ten. Feels like you’re inside a giant ringing bell and the temperature fluctuating between Hell and Antarctica. Crawling to the kitchen to try and keep down a slice of bread and a beer, spilling the beer everywhere. Its like having a seizure while conscious. And just emotionally feeling intense regret because you know you did it to yourself, and likely did something else regrettable on top of it all.
Not to be THAT guy, but my mental health at its lowest was horrendous. Rock bottom kept getting deeper.
From the ages of 11 and a half to 18, I thought of suicide every. Single. Day. The depression garnered anxiety, then the anxiety planted paranoia which reached an insane level, quite literally the stress gave me tics and I couldn’t even eat, sleep, or drink sometimes. I’ve attempted upwards of 7 times (planning and being 🤏 this close is not included, otherwise we’d be in the 10s and maybe 20s). On top of all that, I was 16 when it was pointed out I DEFINITELY have ADHD and 17 when people started telling me I showed signs of autism.
Genuinely, I don’t know how I didn’t die from at least some of the attempts. Some were understandable, but there’s some that bewilder me. I also don’t know how I didn’t get a severe infection from self harm, that bewilders me still.
I’m going to be 21 in two months. Life has been cruel in many ways, but the joy I feel when I get to do the things I love and doing things in a manner that’s unusual to some but it makes sense to me, 15 year old me wouldn’t recognize me. 17 year old me wanted so bad to be who I am now (minus a lot of trauma). I’m really happy I’m here. Plus, now I get to joke about it and I cope in cool ways often. Life is a rollercoaster, but I’m learning how to hold on.
Was fairly new at getting very strong chemo for an aggressive cancer (I lost all my hair just hours after the first treatment). I overheard a young nurse say that some patients just upchuck until it passes, like flu, rather than taking pills for nausea. Wrong. I upchucked every couple hours for almost four days on no food. I was afraid I would die and then was afraid I wouldn’t. Couldn’t lift my arms or walk. Was taken to the ER and given every intravenous fluid known to man. It took five hours, but I could stand up after it at least. Cancer is a bitch. This was five years ago. I’m cancer free now. Thank you, Science.
10 years ago I picked up a random chest infection that started off as a bad cough but developed into a post nasal drip. This meant my sinuses would regularly drip mucus down the back of my throat, into my lungs.
While the goop was in my lungs it would dry out a little and eventually I’d cough it up but it would have the consistency of glue and it would immediately block my throat causing me to choke. I would then have to retch, hoping to clear my throat before I choked to death. It could take a couple minutes to clear my throat, all the while I didn’t know if I’d survive as my vision started to dim and I slowly lost consciousness. This was happening every few hours for a week.
But the absolute worse part was that it would happen while I was asleep. I’d just suddenly wake up, already choking and with my lungs only partially filled with air so I could never be sure my body would have enough air pressure to clear my throat. I was so afraid of it happening that I went without sleep for 3 days but it got to the point I knew I could no longer keep myself awake.
I lived alone and there was no one nearby that could look after me. So I put out extra helpings of cat food and water out because I knew it’d be a few days before someone discovered my body.
I drifted off to sleep knowing that I’d soon wake up again with a blocked throat.
Luckily I was able to eventually fight off the infection and the drip stopped. Worse thing that ever happened to me.
Got a severe case of salmonella poisoning from chicken salad at a bagel shop. Was going back and forth from my be to the bathroom for a week and a half. With no sick leave from my job, I willed myself out of bed and into my car to get back to work. Collapsed in the parking lot, was airlifted to the hospital and pumps full of fluids as I was deathly dehydrated. That was 15 years or so ago and I haven’t eaten chicken salad since.
I got heatstroke at work. Didn’t know what was wrong. Tried to drive myself home, half conscious. Shaking uncontrollably and vomiting out my car door on the side of the highway. I called my husband for help, he didnt care. My mom picked me up and took me home and watched over me since I refused the hospital.
I divorced my husband lol
Eating disorder. Waking up in a hospital and being told I couldn’t leave, couldn’t go to the bathroom without being watched, couldn’t even walk without a wheelchair was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s quite disheartening to be told at 15 that your body might give up at any moment, especially when the alternative (eating) scared me more than death. Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
In July of 23 I woke up around midnight. Couldn’t breathe. I suspected I was having a heart attack. Walked into the er. My husband drove me. Said barely able to speak the words heart attack. Rushed into triage. They start taking my pressure and oxygen level. Oxygen was at 80. They were asking me questions. Apparently I had a cardiac arrest at that point.
The next thing I remember is hearing someone using my full first name telling me to open my eyes and look at them. No one uses my real first name. Like seriously no one. Once I was coherent it was explained to me what had happened. Around 6-7 hours had passed. I was stable enough for a angiogram. I had two 100% blockages and an 80%. That afternoon I had a triple bypass operation heart surgery.
Recovery was difficult. However I have worked hard and my last echo shows my heart is currently at a 55 which is considered normal. I’m not in heart failure any longer.
I had no idea. Yes I have an extensive family history of heart disease. However my personal history had always been good. No high blood pressure or other indicators. Slightly high cholesterol but nothing crazy high or to the point my doctor wanted to put me on meds either. I actually didn’t take a single rx prior to this.
My surgeon was a pediatric cardiac surgeon because my anatomy is considered small. I’m a small lady. He no doubt saved my life. I’m told my surgery took about 9 hours. He said he had to work very slowly and it was intricate but that’s his specialty. I was his last patient before he retired. He just happened to be in the hospital that morning and was asked to look at my case. I don’t know if I would have survived had he not been there. Apparently it was dire that the surgery be done immediately despite its risk.
Thank you Dr. T!
The first time I had kidney stones. The pain was so intense that I truly thought I had an undiagnosed tumor that burst and I only had moments left. It was the only time that I cried and begged for pain meds. Whew boy that was an experience.
Before I got pregnant I’d never had heartburn, but I knew it was common during pregnancy. The further along I got the worse and more frequent it became until the night when I was 32 weeks pregnant and woke up at 4 am so sick and in so much pain that I couldn’t walk and hubby called an ambulance. Turned out that what I thought was heartburn was actually gallbladder attacks and that when you ignore them long enough you get pancreatitis to go along with it. They got me stabilized within 18 or so hours after they figured out what tests and drugs were safe for a pregnant woman. Then, two days after I got to the hospital I got a pulmonary embolism in my right lung and things got really bad. There were no icu wards for pregnant patients so they built me one. I was doped up, they couldn’t get the fever down, and they were giving me steroid shots to try and develop the baby’s lungs quicker in case they had to get him out of there. And I really thought I’d be dead before I ever saw him. Then it suddenly turned and I was okay again and made it all the way to my due date on a special diet and constant blood thinners. But I still have nightmares about it sometimes 24 years later.
When I was younger, I used to get very severe tonsillitis. Like I would have to get penicillin injections, I had been sent to the hospital for IV antibiotics multiple times because my throat would almost close up completely.
So, this one time when I was 19 or 20, I got tonsillitis again. About a week later, I was just getting worse. But now I also had a cough and it hurt to breathe. I had developed pneumonia. I had super high fevers, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, it hurt to cough because of my tonsillitis, but I had to cough constantly, it was like I was choking on nothing when I coughed. I felt like I was just going to stop breathing and that was going to be the end of me. I ended up in hospital overnight for the first time ever so they could pump a shit load of antibiotics into me for 24hrs. It helped a lot but I was still really sick for ages after that.
Like, I was this 19 / 20 year old crying for her mum because it just hurt to be alive. I was so scared, I didn’t know what was wrong.
I was 16 and got toxic shock syndrome (TSS) from tampon use. When they tell you don’t leave it in too long, they’re not kidding around. I had such high fevers, I remember hallucinating while watching Freddy Vrs Jason and I thought I could see the gears in my brain working and ticking away, while talking to Freddy Krueger lol.
Then the diarrhoea started and it was like water every 10 minutes. I shat the bed. I remember being delirious on the ground, watching the sheets being stripped, while I continued just leaking my bowels on the ground. I stood up, it continued to pour out of me. Absolutely no control of it. Then I started throwing up. All while having a sore throat that felt like razor blades every time I swallowed or you know, threw up some more. I slept a lot, when I wasn’t shitting myself.
After all that, my entire body developed a red rash and my full body peeled, hands and feet being the worst. It was like layers of dead skinning coming off me.
The worst week of my life right there. I’ve had covid, the flu, chicken pox as an adult, given natural birth twice and had an abscessed tooth and honestly… The humiliation of not being able to control my body was the worst of it all.
Complications from colon cancer surgery. Surgery was successful but intestines wouldn’t turn back on – they remained paralyzed. Doctors kept saying there was nothing they could do but wait, intestines would start working again eventually. I couldn’t eat or drink anything for two weeks. Was put on a PICC line for TPN feeding to stay alive. After two weeks my intestines did turn on – and I am sorry but there is not sufficient words in the English language to describe the foul, putrid, rancid, filth that poured out uncontrollably from my backside after festering inside me for two weeks. I had no control of my bowels when they turned back on and I would literally have this putrid shit all over the hospital room. The nurses (God bless them!) would clean me and the room up and 5 minutes later everything would be uncontrollably covered in liquid, putrid, filth yet again. My anus became inflamed and infected from all of this.
But with my bowels back on well at least I could eat right? Nope. The risk of refeeding syndrome meant I had to remain on TPN feeding and receive only tiny amounts of real food despite my now ravenous appetite. Wallowing uncontrollably in my filth also meant I got an antibiotic resistant UTI.
After three weeks and losing 30 lbs I was able to go home. It took a full year for me to recover.
Tonsillitis.
One thing people don’t talk about with tonsillitis is that it can actually become dangerous. It’s extremely rare from what a doctor told me.
Every year like clockwork between November and January I always seem to get tonsillitis which lasts three to four weeks and usually leaves me bedridden and taking a cocktail of medication just to get through it. One year however I was unable to actually sleep and found myself having a heavy continious dry cough and struggling to breathe in the kitchen at four in the morning. I tried to drink something only to somehow be unable to actually swallow it and barely keep it in my mouth. If my family hadn’t had found me I probably would be sporting a neck scar right now. By six in the morning I was being rushed to hospital while sat up with my head leaning into a bowl because I couldnt even swallow saliva build up in my mouth and it was making the choking so much worse.
My tonsils turned out to be so swollen and actually had bursting pus spots that it was restricting my breathing severely. While having my throat checked I actually heard “oh my god, I cannot even see your throat” and immediately I was put on to some very strong antibiotics. They told me if the swelling didn’t go down in the next few hours, they would need to open my throat to help me breathe.
Thankfully after a few hours I could breathe a little better and even swallow a little. I was at one point throwing up which caused more pus to leak though. Somehow even after all that I was still turned down for tonsil removal. Never mind the fact that I nearly suffocated because the requirements are pretty much having tonsillitis multiple times in a year. I feel like after what I went through I should’ve recieved that tonsil removal.
Ever since then whenever the tonsillitis flares up I immediately demand the antibiotics and get a little too scared to sleep for the next month or so.
Stage 3 lymphoma diagnosis at age 29. Responded to treatment, but keeps coming back. I’ve had five relapses, for a total of six treatments, one of which (#4) was a bone marrow/stem cell transplant. During the BMT I developed pneumonia. I reached a point where I had no fuggs left to give and didn’t know if I even wanted to survive anymore. But here I am. Next CT and doctor visit next week.
Had an Eating disorder (bulimia, super underweight) in my late teens. Had to have my heart and blood monitored regularly or else I’d be on a feeding tube.
Slept for 12+ hours daily and could not physically digest something without wanting to get it out of my body asap.
Fixed it over the course of years and I am just thankful I didn’t have an esophagus rupture, heart attack, or have any teeth fall out. Medical expenses and scares are probably in my future but I’m just glad to experience each day 🙂
I got “complications” from chemo treatment for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma – got within a few hours of death before I got pulled back. I put it in quotations because the docs still don’t know what it was or why it happened. All I knew was that my heart rate was 178 laying down, my oxygen was dipping under 80% (for which they couldn’t provide me with oxygen due to one of the chemo drugs – Bleomycin is a bitch), and I had a rolling fever of 104 degrees.
Let me tell you, there is no feeling on this earth that is as doom-like as being oxygen hungry for an extended period of time – I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy.
In any case, I got really close. One day after a week in the ICU, I knew it was my last. The docs were out of ideas. They had tried antibiotics, antifungals, anti-virals – they really took the kitchen sink approach. Heart stress tests, an esophageal echocardiogram. You name it; nothing was working.
When you get that close, you can feel it. For me at least, death became like a physical presence in the room with me. I’m not sure I can quite describe the feeling. I didn’t want to go because I had a wife and two kids, and begged the universe to let me stay (call it praying, or whatever you want – I’m not religious). It felt like it would be the easiest thing in the world to just let go. To give in. Maybe it was the fever, but it felt like I was being called home – like I was about to become part of something so much infinitely bigger than myself again. Back to where I came from. I wasn’t scared of it, and I don’t think when you’re at that point that it will be scary. It just… is. It feels inviting. I think you just let go and… go.
Anyway, that was five years ago this month, so clearly I got better. 🙂 Later that last day, after some begging on my part after seeing a post on reddit from someone with similar symptoms, the docs gave me a really strong dose of steroids that they had sworn wouldn’t do anything, and it worked. My oncologist told me later that he saw me slipping away, and they didn’t know what else to do so they tried it, and they still don’t know why it worked or what happened. But thankfully I’m still here and about to hit my cure date in a couple of months.
When I was 28, I had a fever of over 106°F. I went unconscious and had seizures. They had to keep me in an ice bath for a long time. I woke up 3 days later with retrograde amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything after high school. It took about two weeks for my memories to really start coming back completely. It was pretty frightening until then. I had to put a lot of trust in my girlfriend, who had just moved in with me a couple of months earlier, but then I couldn’t remember anything about her. She was very patient and kind. Then, a week after I recovered, she cheated on me with her boss and a random 19 year old in the same week, subsequently giving me chlamydia and then becoming my ex-girlfriend when she confessed as she gave me the antibiotics and explained what they were for.
Life is.. it just is.
Anaphylactic reaction. I knew I was dying because I felt my body shutting down. I got tunnel vision and I thought “this is it.” Kind of a weird feeling at 12 years old. Had to be brought back twice and helicoptered to different hospitals. Hospitalized for over a week afterwards. Couldn’t believe how weak my body was after discharge.
I found out the hard way that I can’t take Maxolon or Stemitil – I go into occulogyric crisis. Seriously thought I was going to die. The back of my head was almost touching my shoulder blades and I was having trouble breathing.
A few shots of hydrocortisone fixed it, but I’ll never forget the look of fear in the eyes of the young doctor at Emergency – she was terrified (I can say she had the loveliest green eyes I’ve ever seen) – and the Senior Registrar was saying to her “You know what this is. What do you have to do?” I’m laying there thinking ‘just fucking tell her!! lol
I had appendicitis and my mother was a recently divorced single mom working full time. She kept telling me to take a warm bath because that always helps her feel better when she hurts. Got to the point where I couldn’t move and we got a police escort from the local ER to the nearest hospital that could operate on a child. 2ish hour drive and they said I would’ve been dead the next day if I didn’t go in.
I had twins in 2019 (no cesarean, for context). About 4 or 5 days postpartum I developed a horrible ache in my lower-mid back area on either side of my spine. Had no clue what it was but it hurt like a motherfucker. Sometime on day 6 the muscle spasms in my back started, so any time I tried to lay down or moved too much my entire back seized up. 1 week postpartum I went to the ER. Doctor barely looked at me. No labs at all, prescribed a muscle relaxer and kicked me out.
Next day, day 8, is my follow up with my OB. Not only is she furious about the ER trip the previous day, she gave me a shot of antibiotics in the office before my piss test even came back, because it was that obvious that I had a raging kidney infection in both kidneys. So she sends me home with a prescription for a strong antibiotic and a prescription for dilaudid because I was in agony.
I took the dilaudid to the letter because I’m the daughter of 2 addicts and abused the shit out of OTC meds. Still couldn’t lay down, so I was sleeping in the recliner in the living room. Had to be ridiculously cautious with how I moved or else my back would try to turn into a pretzel because the muscle relaxer did not do a fucking thing. So I basically live in the goddamn recliner and have my babies handed to me because bending over was an absolutely fucking not. Water started tasting absolutely horrid by this point, I could barely get it down and even that required a shit ton of crystal lite powder. My body absolutely did not want any more fluids.
Day 9 I started developing a cough. My best friend came to visit and spend the night that day to keep me company (I adore her). Day 10 I woke up at 7am and I could barely breathe. Next to no lung capacity, just tiny little pants. I was reluctant to go see a doctor again after the ER but she told me I needed to go, so I called and made an appointment with the first doctor who had an opening, at 8am.
That woman literally saved my life. It took her all of 30 seconds to see that something was very, very wrong. She said she’d do an x ray, then she examined me the best she could without hurting me, listened to my lungs attempt to do their job (and fail miserably), then she stepped out and called my OB. When she came back in she told me I was being admitted to the hospital and they’d do the x ray and a CT there. She let me drive myself to the hospital since I’d driven myself to the clinic. My OB managed to get me re admitted in maternity since I’d just been there and she’d be able to keep up with me easier. Once I was up there 4 nurses came into the room to get me set up and rushed me off to CT where I hopped to the front of the line, apparently in front of someone out of a car accident.
Pretty sure they thought it was an embolism, but it wasn’t, it was pulmonary edema. Clearly connected to the kidney infection, but I’m not sure how. Presumably my kidneys were in worse shape than I realized at the time and all of the fluid had to find somewhere else to go. If you’ve ever seen a spirometer, I couldn’t even get it up to 500. I got it to the first line, so 250-300ish (healthy I can hit 3000 easy). I was told later that if I hadn’t gone in, I’d have died in my sleep that night, at the latest, from drowning in my own lungs sitting upright.
I was hospitalized for 3 nights on an IV of saline, antibiotics, lasix, and dilaudid. After I was discharged it took me a month before I could lay down and 2 months to kick the lingering pneumonia (that’s what they called it).
If anyone has any guesses why or how things cascaded that way please fill me in, I’m still curious.
I fell and suffered a brain bleed which left me stuck on my floor for 30 hours before medical intervention. During that time on the floor I developed an infection that went to my bloodstream (sepsis). The ICU stay was really traumatizing for many reasons, but I know I got very lucky.
Pregnancy. Hyperemesis. I couldn’t eat for months and was so weak I couldn’t walk or do anything. The moment she was born, everything was gone, I had my strength and appetite back and it was like it had never happened. So wild.
It was November of last year. I was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer in September and I was receiving chemotherapy and immunotherapy. I had a plastic tube going into my right arm (called a PICC line) and one night I noticed the skin under the clear plastic dressing covering the PICC was a little bit red and itchy around the edges.
Later that night, I woke myself up scratching my skin and realised the rash had spread to cover most of my body. I had to rub myself with ice packs for some relief and was sending my nurse care team pictures of my rashy butt at 3am. By the next day I was in hospital with a grade 3 dermatitis over all my body (including palms of hands, soles of feet and inside my mouth).
The rash was caused by my own immune system attacking my body because of the immunotherapy. My liver markers showed that I was also suffering from immunotherapy induced hepatitis. I was in hospital for several days on an IV receiving steroids. I’ve never felt as ill as that, but thankfully the steroids worked. When they discharged me I was taking 90 mg prednisolone (I weighed 62 kg) which is a high dose.
I’m waiting on my pathology results from surgery – I’ll find out tomorrow what the next steps in treatment are. Check your chests, people!
I had a miscarriage. I didn’t know I was pregnant, it was very early, and my period wasn’t even late.
I suddenly felt really sick. My stomach hurt so badly, I threw up everything I had. I couldn’t eat or drink without puking. I ended up dehydrated, couldn’t even walk, barely talk. I felt awful.
I was alone with my 3-year-old, who was sleeping. I called emergency services, but they told me to suck it up, it was probably just a stomach bug.
My husband was three hours away and no family was available. He rushed to help, but there wasn’t much he could do.
I truly felt like I was going to die. I passed out a few times, then, suddenly, it all stopped—just like that.
I went from feeling horrible to full of energy.
I went to the hospital, they ran a few tests and it turned out I had been pregnant and was miscarrying.
I guess my body just didn’t want that baby.
I got malaria in Kenya. Even better, I had some imposter syndrome about my job at the time so I didn’t tell any of the doctors that I was surrounded with how bad it was. I just holed up in my room and didn’t come out for a few days. I’ve never sweat completely through a mattress before or since, with droplets hitting the floor from the underside and a nice puddle.
It was also the only time in my adult life I’ve ever felt a fever truly break. As in, in a matter of seconds I went from the sickest I’ve ever been in my life to feeling completely, 100% fine. (Just a bit thirsty) It was so odd after days of boiling and freezing in my own skin.
When someone spiked my drink, at first I just became extremely drunk. Then I lost the ability to form words.. like, I tried talking but nobody could understand me. I don’t remember it clearly, but I must have decided to walk home. Suddenly, I found myself in an alley. My muscles stopped working and I collapsed to the ground in the middle of the night. I wasn’t able to move or speak at this point.
My vision got completely messed up, and I remember just feeling like I was sinking into the dark, unable to fight it. Everyone around me seemed super far away and strangely tall. Toward the end, I had tunnel vision and couldn’t stop puking. I struggled so much to stay conscious. It was terrifying.
Thankfully, some kids noticed me. They apparently walked with me, managed to unlock my phone, and called my family. They stayed with me through the whole thing, they literally saved my life. When I recovered, I managed to find them. They told me they had thought I was just really wasted, but then they saw a man following me from a distance. That’s when they realized I might be in danger.
To this day, I still feel like crying when I think about what could have happened, and how terrifying it was.
The worst part? Three days later, I checked my phone and found several clear notes I’d typed saying, “I think someone put something in my drink.” I wasn’t able to talk, but I could still think and type clearly. I do remember trying to show it to the bartenders… who didn’t help me. That still enrages me.
Meningitis. I was feeling like I had a bit of flu or a cold in the morning but nothing serious. I had to go to school to write two exams that day. During the first I started getting a killer headache, so I just lay on the floor for the break. I finished my second exam within an hour so I was “good” but passed out at my desk for the next 2 hours. When the invigilator had to shake me to get my paper they realised something was off. My mom picked me up and by the time we got to the hospital I could barely walk. I had to wait quite a while (maybe an hour?) before I saw a doctor and by that time I couldn’t open my eyes anymore because the light would cause extreme pain in my head. The doctor saw me for like 5 minutes and knew what was up. I was immediately admitted.
By this time I couldn’t walk and I was experiencing a weird type of synesthesia (which I don’t normally have).
The doctor immediately put me on the right meds (I can’t remember if it was viral or bacterial, but luckily they didn’t have to tap my spine). Weird thing is, I felt okay by the next morning on the drugs. I was in hospital for 4 days but they told me I had to quarantine at home. So I missed like half of my final exams while playing PlayStation and taking a shit load of drugs.
My parents were convinced I may end up in a coma or dead, because I was starting to say extremely strange things, and I remember thinking “this is it” when I couldn’t walk or open my eyes. I’m just so grateful that that doctor got it right so quickly.
Edit: upon reading more (promoted by this question) I think I had a bacterial infection because I’m from Sub-Saharan Africa and it occurred late November/early December. I never knew that the “meningitis belt” was a thing.
Got dysentery while backpacking in India. I was camping at a mediation retreat at the time, and my camp was just a little bit away from the main area (like 100 metres, not actually far, but on the other side of a bamboo grove), and no one thought to come looking for me until I’d not shown up at breakfast for 3 days. By which point I was fully unconscious, had shat myself almost to death, was too weak to lift my head enough to sip water. Someone had robbed me while I was unconscious and thankfully thrown my passport into a bush, but left me with no money at all and no credit card or anything.
It was bad. Very very bad. Amazingly, all of my hippie friends were suddenly very busy elsewhere 🙄. Some backpacker from England, whom I’d not actually met before, stepped up, made a stretcher, and carried me out to the nearest place – a farmhouse about 2km away. The farmer took me in and his wife nursed me back to health over a couple of weeks.
They were incredibly poor people, living in a mud hut with a cow dung floor. But they fed me fresh warm milk direct from their buffalo every morning and brought me turmeric and cumin broths and whatever traditional herbal medicine.
As I slowly got better, I connected a lot with the wife, she taught me how to make chapatti on a clay oven, and how to make a really good dal. I learned some Hindi as well.
When I was finally well enough to leave – still really quite sick and weak, but I really wanted to get to civilisation and cancel my credit card and see a proper doctor and stuff 😅 – I profusely thanked them both, and I neatly folded up the hand-spun wool blanket the farmer had given me to use (my sleeping bag was in a truly revolting state and had needed to be incinerated).
But when I tried to give the man back the blanket, he flatly refused, insisting that I keep it. Obviously I couldn’t accept it, I might have been in a very poor circumstance and had zero money at all at the time, but I still had my rich, western country passport and home to go back to, and these people were poor; I couldn’t take their blanket, especially after all they’d done for me. Anyway we went back and forth for a bit, struggling because he didn’t speak English and my Hindi was only a handful of phrases at that point.
Finally I handed it to him and said “this is your blanket, I can’t accept it, but thank you for everything”
And he said “you’re right, it’s my blanket. And I’m giving it to you”.
That man changed my life. In that moment I realised I was blocking him from giving, and that was a shitty thing to do to someone who had been so insanely kind to me.
This was 25 years ago. I still have the blanket.
Edit: thank you for all the kind words and awards. Since so many people asked, here is a photo of the blanket that I just took now. It’s looking very well worn, but still functions as intended, despite being very old and well travelled. https://imgur.com/a/UFvDVwo#Z7wNfKh
Oh right now.. I’m currently recovering in hospital with my kidneys failed. I feel as close to death right now as I’ve ever felt.
My parents left me in a hot car when I was super little, and I can just barely remember the hospital visits that followed. To this day, I can barely tolerate hot weather in general.
My apendix died, got infected and burst, leaking pus all throughout my insides when I was about 15 years old.
My mum dismissed me as being a hyperchondriac and blamed it on me sneaking vodka cruisers that week when we were on holidays in a rural area. Then blamed it on gastro from some dodgey food I may have eaten.
After vomiting for 4 days straight, one morning she woke up to me screaming in pain, my skin completely grey, my stomach had a noticeable yellow bloat pushing out from the inside and I physically couldn’t move or talk. I’d gone into sepsis. I kept going in and out of consciousness.
She panicked and took me to the hospital which was 45mins away, it was apparently the worst the Drs had ever seen and didn’t have a surgeon capable of operating on it. I was so sure I was going to die that day, the look on the Drs and nurses faces said it all. Child services were also called as my apendix had signs of dying and being infected from up to 2 weeks.
They airlifted me to another hospital another hour away and finally operated on. The pus has spread everywhere, so they opened me up pretty good to wash it all out (I have a pretty cool scar). Got to see a photo of it, but sadly the Drs incineratored it before I woke up so I couldn’t keep it in a preservation jar 🙁
Septic arthritis. Couldn’t move my arm. Needed gas and air to put it in a sling!! Had been sent by my GP two weeks earlier when symptoms started. Hospital registrar dismissed me with “it’s nothing” . Two surgeries later to clean infection out of my shoulder, I am now awaiting a shoulder replacement as my joint has been destroyed.
If I ever see that registrar again……
Many years ago, I had a pregnancy that went septic at 23 weeks because of a bacteria that normally causes meningitis. I had to be provoked and give birth while having septic shock. My blood pressure was so low they were afraid they would have to amputate my foot.
My baby lived for a few painful minutes after birth, but we would both have died if I hadn’t been able to decide to provoke the birth. This is why access to abortion is important, it saves lives. My other daughter would have lost her mom as a toddler.