It wasn’t until I ran into the Northwestern Memorial Hospital ICU and saw my father in septic shock that I knew what I wanted to be. My mother and I held each other, seeing him intubated and connected to countless machines. We didn’t know if he was going to survive.
Soon, specialists and nurses came in and started taking care of my dad. I was amazed at their organization – I had never seen so many people working in such synchronicity. They drained the abscess in his foot that was causing the sepsis, cleaned him, made sure his vitals were stable, and checked on him every 10 minutes.
After that day, he had countless doctor’s visits, hospital stays, and at-home visits from nurses. Although they couldn’t