- Two days after a family trip, I ran a fever of 103 and didn’t feel well.
- I was diagnosed with sepsis in the hospital and felt guilty for ruining my family’s trip.
- I learned that I can’t control what happens and I have to let go of the mother guilt.
Two days into a Disney World vacation with my husband Anthony, our two daughters, and my in-laws, I became very ill. With a fever of 103, I was shaking with chills, aching all over, and constantly dehydrated.
We were excited about this trip. Every day before we left, I drew a Disney-themed picture on my 8-year-old daughter’s lunch bag. I counted the days, with the number eight hidden in Cinderella’s castle, Mickey’s four-fingered glove, and a twinkling two next to Tinkerbell.
The author felt bad about leaving her family while she was in the hospital. Courtesy of the author
And then, I was in the room feeling guilty while my family explored the Magic Kingdom. I am no stranger to the disease. Born with heart disease, I’ve recovered from four open-heart surgeries, but I rolled around in bed moaning in pain. I cried to Anthony on the phone, delirious from the fever, the lorazepam I’d taken, or both.
I didn’t think anything was seriously wrong, but I called my cardiology nurse after a few days. She said I likely had a virus, but since my mechanical valve and pacemaker are breeding grounds for bacteria, we have to rule out blood infection. She sent me to the emergency room for blood cultures.
Things were worse than I imagined
“She’s septic,” said the triage nurse.
Maybe I couldn’t register her words through the pain; maybe anthony was getting me a blanket at that moment because once i was in an exam room neither of us understood why the clinicians looked so serious. This was a virus; I was only here as a precaution.
But my blood pressure was 70/40, my white blood cell count was elevated, and I had an infection somewhere. Culture results will take days, but they treated my symptoms and started antibiotics. As soon as I could think clearly, the guilt returned.
This is not how I imagined this vacation. I needed to watch my girls spin in large cups of tea, not watch the room spin around me. Instead of wearing a hospital gown, I should have helped my 8 year old into her princess dress. I wanted to push my 4 year old in her stroller, not push her around the hospital in a gurney.
The culture came back positive. I moved to a flat floor and the guilt flared. I was in the hospital for about a week, but it felt like forever. I cried often – when my children would fly home without me, before every medical test, petrified that the results would keep me away from them any longer, and every time, my in-laws would send me a picture of their faces.
If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed those smiling faces. While I was wallowing in guilt, they were having the time of their lives.
We made our way together
I was left with guilt when I got home and spent four months on IV antibiotics, which messed up my stomach and kept me curled up on the couch for half that time. I was fortunate to have my husband at home temporarily, my mother, who moved in as I recovered, and extended family and friends willing to help. It killed me to barely take care of my girls, but we found a way. We cuddled while watching TV and playing games. They decorated my fourth pillar for my birthday.
After all, I didn’t need to feel so guilty. My kids are fine. It wasn’t easy. My older daughter later admitted that she cried herself to sleep while I was in the hospital. My little one cried so much in front of preschool during that time that we took her out. It was hard, but so was life. They got through it and learned that they had parents who loved them and a whole village willing to take care of them when their mother couldn’t.
I learned that this nagging guilt we have as mothers is pointless. I can’t control what happens to me. Inevitably, I will have more medical problems. Maybe my kids will be better equipped to handle it. At least now I know we can get through it together. And I know not only that I love them, sometimes to a painful degree, but that they love me too, even when things are hard and even if I sometimes ruin their good times.
