It Could Happen to Your Child: Recognizing Sepsis

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The rain is pouring down, soaking everything in sight. I’ve got the windows wide open, letting in that fresh, invigorating air. The scent of ferns on my porch fills the space, reminding me of life outside. But then, I hear heartbreaking news about a young boy’s tragic passing. It’s just past 11:00 a.m., and after hanging up the phone, tears well in my eyes. I take a moment to silently thank the universe for my kids who are waiting for me to finish my call.

Meet the Johnsons. After losing their son, Liam, three years ago to sepsis, they now have only one child left to cherish. Liam’s story is a painful reminder of how something so seemingly trivial—a scraped arm from gym class—can lead to catastrophic consequences. What began as a minor injury spiraled into sepsis, a severe reaction to infection, and tragically, he passed away just three days later. The Johnsons shared with me that more than 250,000 people in the U.S. succumb to sepsis each year, and it’s one of the leading causes of death in children globally.

After lunch, my little boy is hard at work, building a grand castle with his blocks by the window. He’s trying to keep his little sister from wrecking his masterpiece, but in true sibling fashion, he soon incorporates her into his imaginative game. The living room is dim, and as I flip on the lights, he excitedly narrates the epic tale of a knight defending his fortress from a toddler invasion.

Liam, who was a bit older, also loved blocks. I can’t help but imagine him, just like my son, lost in his own world of creativity. One day, when asked what he was building, he shared his dream: a hospital that would’ve saved lives, inspired by the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Later, my son is at his little red desk, crafting a short story after dinner. Surrounded by Star Wars memorabilia and a few cherished stuffed animals, he’s already showing signs of being a storyteller. I’ve peeked at his stories—they’re simple but filled with imagination. Liam had a similar desk, but his was black, adorned with airplane models and dark blue walls he chose himself. Even at a young age, he was passionate about human rights, penning letters to advocate for change.

After our walk, my son greets everyone he meets. It makes for a slow stroll, but I let him be social when the mood strikes. At just six years old, he’s often the smallest in his class yet possesses a rare charm that draws people in. Watching him introduce himself to new friends at kindergarten, I see a glimpse of empathy and confidence.

Liam was 12 when he left this world, known and loved by many. He was the kind of kid who took newcomers under his wing, ensuring no one felt alone. A tribute from a recent transfer student from Japan highlighted just how special Liam was. Towering at 5 feet 9 inches, he was the gentle giant, always ready to help others instead of using his size to intimidate.

As bedtime approaches, my kids are in the playroom, racing from one room to another with squeals of laughter. I gather them up for a story before we start the bedtime routine. Sometimes, my son takes the lead and reads to us.

Liam and his sister, Ava, shared a bond just like my children do now. They loved biking through their neighborhood, and at just seven, Liam even rallied for a new bike path. His mother would read them stories at bedtime, just as I do now, creating cherished memories.

When speaking with the Johnsons, I can’t help but see my son in Liam and my daughter in Ava. Liam could be my child. He could be yours. The stark reality is that tonight, while we tuck our little ones into bed, Liam’s bed remains empty.

Liam’s death from sepsis was preventable, yet, like many parents, I was unaware of the severity of the disease before this conversation. According to the Sepsis Alliance, sepsis is an overwhelming response to an infection that can lead to organ failure or death. Any minor cut can be a gateway for infection, as Liam’s scrape tragically proved. The symptoms often mimic the flu, making early detection crucial for recovery. Without prompt treatment, however, the outcome can be fatal. Education around sepsis is essential to prevent further tragedies.

Please, for the sake of Liam and countless others, familiarize yourself with the symptoms of sepsis: fever, chills, dizziness, cold skin, pain, and shortness of breath are just a few. More information can be found here.

September is Sepsis Awareness Month, and I encourage you to visit the Rory Staunton Foundation to learn more about prevention, education, and their annual forum. Let’s work together to protect our children.

By educating ourselves about sepsis, we can save lives.

Summary:

This article conveys the importance of recognizing the signs of sepsis, a potentially fatal condition that can arise from minor injuries. Through the stories of Liam Johnson and his family, it emphasizes the need for awareness and early detection to prevent unnecessary tragedies. Parents are urged to learn the symptoms of sepsis and engage with resources that promote education and prevention.