In 2016, I was 33 years old and 32 weeks pregnant with my second child. I was employed in Human Resources and went to work as usual. But on this morning in February, my coffee tasted strange. It left a bad taste in my mouth, and later that day I was nauseous.
Thinking I had a stomach flu, I went home. Over the next five days that “stomach flu” didn’t go away and the advice at that time was to rest and it will get better. Finally, after urging from my family, my husband drove me to Sunnybrook, thinking I likely only needed IV fluids.
That night, as my nausea was treated, I went to the bathroom and noticed blood. I called in the nurse who then called the doctor, and after checking, began to gently tell me that they could no longer find the heartbeat, and in that moment, was eight centimetres dilated.
That was an emotional rollercoaster. Within 20 minutes and with no epidural, I gave birth to my stillborn baby girl. I was heartbroken. My story doesn’t end here though, as my vitals were dropping, and I suddenly found myself being rolled into an operating room, sedated and confused. My heart stopped twice, was resuscitated twice and was on three different blood pressure medications just so I could have a pulse.
I woke up six days later, after learning I was in a medically induced coma and in the intensive care unit. Turns out, I didn’t have the stomach flu, I had necrotizing fasciitis. The condition targeted my stomach and caused toxic shock. General surgery removed my entire stomach as it was completely blackened. Dead. The only way to save the rest of my organs was to remove it and figure out the best course of action.
Three other surgeries later, within the span of six days, the decision was made to staple my esophagus and my intestines shut and do corrective surgery in the future when I become stabilized.
Since my digestive system was not intact, I had two tubes coming out of my stomach, one of which was a feeding tube. Since I was not stable, I couldn’t have the reconstruction surgery right away, and lived like this for 14 months. This timeframe was the most torturous time of my life and one that I wish no one ever endures. It was in this time that I did not eat a single thing. The feeding tube nourished me with 3,000 calories a day through a machine.
But life doesn’t stop. Thanksgiving meals don’t stop. Weddings happen. I had to continue to be a mom, and prepare meals for my family, and then sit at the dinner table watching them eat, when I could not eat. Just the smell of sautéed onions smelled so good, sometimes I had to go to the bedroom just so I wouldn’t have to smell the yummy dinner. You don’t notice how many food commercials are on TV until you can’t eat what they’re advertising. It was within this timeframe that I experienced depression and suicidal thoughts, was addicted to opioids, on a ton of medication, and was in and out of Sunnybrook’s Emergency Department for a variety of issues with the unanswered question of “why me?”
The day finally came when the team of doctors performed my reconstruction surgery. This involved attaching my small intestine to my esophagus (stomach transplants are not a thing). I experienced a huge sigh of relief when they did the ‘leak test’ to see if the connection was sealed.
Seven years later, this experience has taught me major life lessons like resilience, gratefulness, thankfulness and spirituality. I have a completely different viewpoint on life altogether. I am now a self-proclaimed foodie and enjoy eating with a different lens. I learned that the joys in life revolve around surrounding yourself with people you love and to share a meal together.
I learned that my case was a once in a lifetime “career case” for the team of surgeons, with the odds of someone getting this was one in ten million people. And the people that get this don’t survive. But I survived. I had an anesthesiologist come to my room saying “I heard a rumour you were alive and I wanted to confirm.” I was famous at Sunnybrook, anytime I went into the Emergency Department, someone was bound to say “Oh, that story was you?”
The surgery team at Sunnybrook is absolutely incredible and their skilled team gave me my life back to what it was, albeit some changes. Everyone that I and my family encountered was professional, delightful and empathetic. I want to thank all the doctor teams, nurses, porters, and administrators who provided excellent patient care. I no longer experience depression, PTSD, and my body works as it should.
I’m forever grateful. Thank you.
Stefanie is an amazingly strong and resilient woman. The incredibly rare bacterial infection caused her stomach to die, leading to an emergency surgery and long stay in the intensive care unit. The bacterial sepsis, unfortunately, led to the loss of her pregnancy.
Her case was complex and life-threatening, but she was supported by many medical teams who worked together to provide very complex care. I can still recall standing at her bedside in the intensive care unit, with the gastrointestinal, thoracic, and intensive care teams, discussing the best way to treat her rare condition.
We were thrilled to be able to re-connect her esophagus to her small bowel. After the surgery, she came to clinic, talking about pizza and all the things she was able to eat.
~ Dr. Natalie Coburn, Upper GI surgeon and Stefanie’s lead physician
