"Music helped me find my way back to life"

On a Wednesday evening in January 2018, Georg Sigrist fell ill. He felt sick and had to vomit. Because there was a flu epidemic going around, he initially thought it was an infection and went to bed. But the retired civil engineer quickly realized that this time it was different. “Instead of sweating, I got chills like I’d never experienced before,” he says. “My bed, which I had made myself before our wedding, was shaking so violently that my wife was afraid it might collapse.”

The next day, he developed a high temperature and severe pain, from his neck to both shoulders. Georg Sigrist was weakened and even fell. But at first he couldn’t understand what he was experiencing. On Saturday, he felt so bad that his wife called the emergency services. They said it was probably the flu. But his condition did not improve. On the contrary: the pain increased and sleep was hardly possible. Day after day, he lost more and more strength. On Sunday, he was barely responsive. “I was no longer myself,” he says. “I could no longer think clearly.”

Early on Monday morning, his wife drove him to the family doctor. Blood was taken there and the sample sent to the laboratory. A new appointment was scheduled for Wednesday. But he couldn’t wait that long. On Tuesday, his condition deteriorated massively again. Back at the surgery, the lab results showed that everything had to happen quickly. Georg Sigrist had to go to hospital immediately. “My wife drove me straight there,” he recalls.

At the hospital, he perceived the situation as if through a veil. “It was like being in a dream,” says Georg Sigrist. “I just thought: They’ll get me back on my feet.” Numerous tests followed until it became clear what was behind the rapid deterioration: Georg Sigrist had sepsis, caused by the intestinal bacterium Escherichia coli. E. coli occurs naturally in the human gut, but can cause serious infections outside of it. The exact source of the infection remained unclear. “I heard the word ‘sepsis’ for the first time during the MRI scan. I didn’t know what it was.” Georg Sigrist received immediate treatment and stayed in the hospital for two weeks. Because his condition soon stabilized, he avoided the intensive care unit but was monitored around the clock.

What Georg Sigrist wore in hospital was music. His wife brought him a CD player and concert recordings on which he played the saxophone himself. He listened to Mozart, Vivaldi, Bach. For hours, over and over again. “My only wish was to be able to play the saxophone again,” he says. He not only found distraction in music, but also an anchor. It reminded him of the life that was still waiting for him and became a silent promise to himself to find his way back.

On leaving the hospital, Georg Sigrist said that it must have been five to twelve when he arrived. The doctor replied with a sentence that he would never forget: “It was more like five past twelve. You should have come a week earlier.” It was only at that moment that he realized how serious the situation had actually been.

However, the story was not over when he left hospital. Georg Sigrist received antibiotic infusions on an outpatient basis for a further three weeks, administered by two Spitex nurses from his community. He then had to take medication for a longer period of time. The many medications also had unexpected side effects. His sense of taste changed so much that he suddenly tasted foods that he had never liked before. Georg Sigrist takes it with dry humor: “At least that was a positive side effect.”

In the first two years after his sepsis, he looked ahead and tried to find his way back to everyday life. Physically, recovery remained a struggle. In addition to general weakness, Georg Sigrist suffered from severe back pain. But it wasn’t just his body that needed time. Mentally, too, many things were thrown out of balance after the sepsis. Georg Sigrist experienced a vulnerability that had previously been foreign to him. “I would suddenly burst into tears while watching sad movies or at the sight of happy children.” Added to this were fears of the dark and of being alone, sleep disturbances, nightmares, and a fear of going to bed. He developed depression, which felt to him “like homesickness,” and suffered from high blood pressure.

Then something happened that threw Georg Sigrist off course: the flautist suddenly left the musical trio, the harpsichord player moved to Lucerne – the well-rehearsed trio suddenly disbanded. And the music that had sustained Georg Sigrist was gone.

At first, Georg Sigrist had no idea that his emotional outburst might be related to the sepsis. It was only in hindsight that he began to understand that the illness had deeply shaken not only his body but also his emotional balance. In the process, he also realized something about himself that went back a long way. As a boy, he says, he had been very emotional. Later, he put on a protective shell to deal with his emotions differently. “After the sepsis, I felt as though I had lost the protective shell I had developed as a child,” he said.

The fact that this newfound emotional sensitivity weighed so heavily on him eventually led him to seek help. He turned to a psychotherapist—a step that took a great deal of courage on his part. “It goes against my nature to share personal problems with others,” he said. To help him better understand his feelings and learn to cope with them, the therapist encouraged him to write down his experiences and thoughts. What was initially intended only for himself eventually grew into something bigger. Today, Georg Sigrist is convinced that his story can also give others courage. That’s why he has documented it in his book *My Experience with Sepsis and My Journey with the Long-Term Effects*.

Georg Sigrist said that medical treatment alone was not the only decisive factor in his recovery. His mental attitude also played an important role. “My unwavering determination to get well again had a major impact on my recovery.” Step by step, he found his way back to everyday life. But the sepsis had changed his outlook on life. Before his illness, he had hardly ever thought about the possibility of dying suddenly. Afterward, he became more aware of that possibility. However, he is not afraid of death.

His anxiety and depression have largely disappeared today. “I’m still more sensitive and sometimes have mild depressive episodes,” said Georg Sigrist. It is precisely these invisible consequences that show him that sepsis doesn’t simply end when he is discharged from the hospital.

The fact that he could have developed sepsis still troubles him to this day. Even after retiring, Georg Sigrist felt mentally and physically active, robust, and healthy. “Sepsis can affect anyone,” he said. “I’d never been seriously ill, didn’t smoke, didn’t have diabetes, and didn’t drink alcohol or use drugs. So I wasn’t really a high-risk patient—except that I’m a senior.” That’s precisely why it’s important to him to show that sepsis can also affect people who are in the prime of life and feel healthy.

His message is clear: We need to be more vigilant earlier on—not just when things have already taken a dramatic turn. Precisely because the symptoms may be nonspecific at first, it’s important to take any changes seriously. “You can’t wait to react until it’s almost too late,” said Georg Sigrist. In his case, the signs weren’t clear at first. But then his symptoms became extreme. Georg Sigrist’s story is therefore both a warning and a source of encouragement. It shows how quickly what seems like the flu can develop into life-threatening sepsis. At the same time, it illustrates that early action can be crucial, even if the road to recovery remains long.