A couple of days ago, I found myself at a luncheon sitting with the CEO. Let me be clear: this was not by design. My plan was simple—sit down, relax, and chat with a new volunteer. That was it. Low pressure, easy conversation.
But then… the seating gods had other plans. Before I knew it, the Mayor pulled up a chair, and right after him, the CEO. Suddenly, my “relaxing luncheon” had turned into “Surprise! You’re at the Important People Table.”
The Mayor and I actually had plenty to talk about—we grew up in the same area and swapped stories easily. But the second the CEO sat down, it was like someone reached into my head, unscrewed my brain, and walked off with it. I forgot how conversations worked. Words? Banter? Small talk? Gone. Completely gone.
To his credit, the CEO was wonderful—warm, engaging, asking questions. My contribution? Short answers and nervous nods. That’s it. I’m fairly certain he left wondering how I function on a daily basis.
I promise, I do know what I’m doing. Just… not that day. That day, I was running on “CEO proximity mode,” and apparently, it defaults to system error.
What an unbelievably wonderful day.
Because of HIPAA, I can’t share most of the details, but I can say this: when you are living your purpose, doors open. Today I’ve been on an emotional high. All day long, I was surrounded by people who radiate joy. The atmosphere where I work is unmatched, and I know it starts at the top—from the C-Suite to the volunteers. This is the kind of place people dream of working in. My cup truly runneth over!
A Year Ago
Last year (link), I was writing about the food I ate during my 64-day hospital stay. Grilled cheese was on the menu, which makes sense because it’s one of my go-to comfort meals. I order it often—so often that the kitchen staff knows exactly what bread and cheese I prefer. The only time I stray is when something irresistible pops up on the menu.
Well, today was one of those days: French Dip with provolone. NUMMY! They were out of Pepsi, which I’m still working on forgiving, since Pepsi is one of the main reasons I love eating there. Not many places have it, but the ones that do deserve sainthood. Still, the French Dip made up for it, and the real joy was getting to share the meal with a very special person—someone who blessed me during my 64 days. He was the one who told me he prayed I would be healthy enough to leave. I was so touched then, and today we spoke again about God’s gifts and leadership. It was such a blessing.
Looking Back, Looking Ahead
I still can’t quite believe I’m two years past the beginning of my 64-day stay. I remember how hard those first days were after I woke up. Reaching the two-year mark is a huge milestone for anyone who has faced sepsis—especially septic shock. The statistics are sobering: during the first two years after sepsis, the likelihood of developing it again is high, and survivors must be hyper-vigilant. A simple cut requires careful cleaning. A mild UTI can spiral dangerously fast.
For the last two years, I’ve lived with that reality—washing my hands until they’re chapped, taking extra precautions at restaurants, and holding my breath at the thought of infection. It has been overwhelming at times. But now, as I near the two-year mark, I can finally exhale just a little easier. That alone is something to celebrate.
A Special Day Approaches
Another milestone is coming soon: the two-year anniversary of graduating from the ICU to a regular room. That date also happens to be my birthday. I can’t think of a better way to spend it than serving my patients, doing what brings me the most joy. I’ll be wearing red—not only to honor Sepsis Awareness, but also as a proud survivor.
There is so much to celebrate.
