On New Year’s Day, 2013, Rikke Schmidt Kjaergaard went for a walk with her family along the river in their large Danish town. She lagged behind her husband, his friend, and the Kjaergaard children (aged 18, 14, and 8). She could not keep up. Her legs were leaden, and she was unusually cold. Back at home, even a hot bath couldn’t warm her. Within a few hours she was feverish, vomiting, and had lost control of her bowels. A night-duty GP came to the house, diagnosed flu, and prescribed an antiviral medication. Even if Rikke did have a virus (it turned out she did not), how was a pill she couldn’t keep down supposed to help? The following morning, the family’s regular GP was called to the house, and then an ambulance. At this point, she suffered cardiac arrest. The hardworking paramedics were able to restart her heart and get her to the hospital where defibrillation restored a normal rhythm. Doctors immediately placed her on a respirator and connected her to a dialysis machine. Soon she would be transferred to a university hospital/research facility 30 miles away. This was only the beginning . . .

How to explain it? A fit, apparently healthy 38-year-old woman entertained holiday guests one day; two days later, that same woman was in a coma. There were multiple micro blood clots throughout her body and an expanding hematoma (swelling of blood) in the right side of her brain. Her kidneys had failed, and she was retaining huge amounts of fluid—40 pounds of it, in fact. Her hands, feet, and nose had blackened due to inadequate blood supply, and the rest of her body was alarmingly discoloured.

Kjaergaard’s doctors determined which pathogen was responsible for their patient’s condition and the reason why it had taken over. At the age of 20, Rikke had been diagnosed with Lupus, an autoimmune disease. She had been hospitalized for three months then, but with attentive self-care, she’d been able to live a fairly normal life. However, over the years, Lupus had been taking a secret toll. Kjaergaard’s immune system was compromised, and her spleen, which ought to have defended her against Streptococcus pneumoniae, the bacteria that ravaged her body, was calcified and nonfunctional. Now suffering from pneumococcal meningitis, septic shock, and multiple organ failure, she was not expected to survive.

Her book, of course, shows that she did. However, she tells us that setting down her story was, at times, “like writing a biography of another person.” Significant parts of her account are based on the meticulous notes and photographic records that her husband, Peter, kept about her and her family’s ordeal. At first this documentation was Peter’s way of holding on to his comatose wife, but it would turn into something else: a record of her progress. When it seemed as though Rikke might survive after all, doctors warned Peter that she would be a changed person. The parts of the brain involved in personality were badly damaged. Rikke might shout or cry for no apparent reason. She might not know her loved ones at all and be completely dependent on others.

Kjaergaard’s account of her slow recovery from a life-threatening bacterial assault on her body and a seemingly unending sequence of complications is simply and accessibly written. There is a pared-down feel to it, and it’s mostly free of medical jargon. (The terms that are used are well explained.) Emerging from a two-week coma is not like a Hollywood movie, Rikke writes. It is gradual, protracted, arduous, and exhausting. A couple of minutes of consciousness, requiring so much energy and effort, are followed by long hours of darkness. Waking up also means experiencing pain and aggravating itchiness, without being able to do anything about either. For some weeks, Rikke was “locked in”, aware of others, able to understand them to some extent, but completely paralyzed and unable to communicate. To others she appeared to be in a vegetative state. From the inside, the condition was “like the most horrifying claustrophobic nightmare.” Eventually, a simple system of communication—one blink for “no”; two for “yes”- was established. A spelling board was used. Others would slowly point to the letters of the alphabet arranged in rows on the board, waiting and watching for Rikke’s blink-of-the-eye acknowledgement when the right letter was reached. This was a challenging and intensely frustrating system at best, especially for someone with an impaired short-term memory.

Rikke’s experience required her to relearn all the most basic bodily functions, including breathing, holding her head up, swallowing, sitting, walking, peeing and so on. Her book is an account of a struggle against formidable odds as well as an affecting story of love—marital and familial. It is never saccharine or sentimental. “Feeling loved,” Rikke writes, “is the most potent healing power.” Encouraged by hospital staff and some scientific studies, the family made a point of regularly speaking and reading to Rikke, believing that their voices might give her reason to return, and providing them with a therapeutic benefit in the process. 14-year-old Victoria placed a photograph of her mum on the bedside table of the hospital room to show medical personnel the real, vibrant woman they were working to save. It made a difference. Both doctors and nurses became more interested in their accomplished patient; she was now more than a medical problem.

In documenting Rikke’s experience, her husband was attuned to the most subtle changes in her condition: “he saw what no one else could see: a tiny light in the dull darkness of my downward gaze.”(In fact, scientific studies show that it is usually family members, not medical professionals, who are the first to know their loved one is still there—locked in.) Peter read the scientific literature, was in constant communication with her medical team, and lived at the hospital for the first weeks of his wife’s care. At one point, he requested her physicians’ permission to bring a close friend of Rikke’s to the hospital (at a time when only immediate family were allowed to visit). It was an experiment that yielded results. The friend’s visit elicited Rikke’s first direct gaze, a critical step back into life.

This is a difficult story to read, of course, but an important and worthwhile one. I learned a lot and was very moved. At the end of the book, Rikke provides a checklist for caregivers, which is well worth reading.

She concludes by saying that the book “was written to give a voice to those who have none and for anyone whose life has changed out of all recognition from one moment to the next. I am trying to see my unexpected survival and recovery as a gift that can help others, too.” It is. ( )

In the blink of an eye everything can change. One moment your life is moving along, going through your normal routine, living your life. Then you blink. What once was is gone and you are plunged into an unimaginable nightmare that you can't wake up from, quickly becoming trapped inside your own body, the only movement that you can control is a blink. It sounds like a scene from a psychological thriller but this was realty for scientist Rikke Schmidt Kjaergaard on New Years day in 2013.

The whole day Rikke had been feeling off but she chalked it up to the New Years Eve festivities from the night before but as the day wore on Rikke got worse and worse. Her doctor was called to the house later that evening and she was diagnosed with the flu but her symptoms went from bad to worse at an incredibly rapid rate.

She couldn't get warm no matter how many blankets were piled on her, every bit of light pierced her eyes like needles, and her fever was increasing and then dropping at rapid rates. Rikke couldn't hold anything down and couldn't control anything coming out of her body. By morning, everything that was coming out of her body was thick and black. When she started to become paralyzed her husband and doctor knew this was a serious situation and she was rushed to the emergency room. If they would've waited any longer Rikke would not have survived.

The Blink of an Eye is Rikke's point of view during the entire horrific ordeal that completely changed her life. When Rikke was 20 she was diagnosed with systemic lupus erythematosus or SLE. She believed she had her disorder under control but all it took was one attack of bacterial meningitis to almost kill her.

You can feel Rikke's scientific background come through the pages, as well as the anguish and heartbreak that she felt. There are parts that were hard for me to read and brought tears to my eyes. I cannot even begin to imagine what Rikke and her family had to endure.

Though Rikke has a lot of battle scars, she lived to tell the tale which is a miracle in and of itself. I closed the book thankful for my life and felt empowered to face the medical issues I am currently facing. If Rikke can fight so can I! Painful, yet so powerful - The Blink of an Eye is a must read! ( )