I was a college student living in a dorm when I got sick with both strep throat and pneumonia. I’ve had both before, but this time the signs were out of the ordinary.

It would take me half an hour just to push myself out of bed to use the bathroom. My ribs were in excruciating pain from coughing so hard. I couldn’t stay asleep for more than 30 minutes at a time because I would wake up in pain. I’d be freezing cold to the point where my teeth were chattering, but I’d also be sweating.

Eventually, I ran out of drinks. I knew if I DoorDashed waters or sodas, I wouldn’t be able to carry them upstairs. I ordered two smoothies instead, and when I went to the front of my dorm to pick them up, I blacked out or nearly passed out in the elevator on the way back up. I had to practically crawl back to my room. I remember calling my mom sobbing multiple nights, telling her it was the worst pain I had ever felt and that I felt like I was going to die.

When I first started feeling sick, I went to the Student Health Center on campus. That’s when I was told I had pneumonia and strep throat. I was given a Z-pack and sent home. Later, I called back because my mom, who used to be a nurse, told me that wasn’t enough medication. They refused to put the doctor on the phone and told me no.

Almost a week passed, and I truly felt at my worst. I called again and they still refused to put the doctor on the phone, except this time, I didn’t take no for an answer. I told him my symptoms and how I had gotten significantly worse, and he told me to go to the ER.

I explained that I didn’t have health insurance, so I wanted more medication. In my mind, I would just be going to the ER for them to tell me I had strep throat and pneumonia and give me the correct medication. I had no idea something worse was at play. Then he said, “I don’t want to scare you, but you could die.”

Right then, I asked my friend to take me to the hospital but I then started feeling even worse and realized I couldn’t even wait that long – so I ordered an Uber to the nearest hospital.

Looking back, I wish I had insisted on talking to the doctor and not taken “no” for an answer from the very first phone call. I wish my healthcare provider had given me the proper medication. And I wish that the first time I called back and told the receptionist I was getting worse and not better, I hadn’t been brushed off.

My message to others is simple: advocate for yourself. Don’t be afraid to demand a doctor look into something more thoroughly. My family has always joked about me having “social anxiety” because I used to be scared to even call the front desk and order room service on family vacations. I used to be the patient who trusted doctors to ask the right questions, notice the correct signs, and tell me what was wrong. Now, I advocate for myself with every doctor, and I encourage my friends to do the same.

After sepsis, I struggled with post-sepsis syndrome and unfortunately, I didn’t even know what post-sepsis syndrome was. I also didn’t receive a diagnosis until almost an entire year later, right at the beginning of me growing out of it. I really encourage advocating for doctors to make patients more aware of the after-effects of sepsis. I didn’t even know what sepsis was until I had it, so I had no idea that my battle with sepsis could lead to after-effects.

To raise more awareness, I started SHINE—the nation’s first collegiate sepsis awareness club. Our mission is to spread sepsis awareness across The University of Alabama, on social media, and eventually at other schools. Please consider supporting our cause, even if it’s just with one follow, because that increases our outreach – on Instagram at @shine.initiative.