CEDAR CITY

On the third Friday of July, Stefani Ellison found herself grappling with profound sadness.

“It’s a ‘traumaversary,'” she expressed. “The third Friday in July of 2023 marked his leg amputation. Then, on that same date in 2025, he ended his life. And here we are again.”

On July 18, 2025, Stefani’s husband, Stephen Ellison, 68, lost his battle with post-sepsis syndrome, a condition that affects nearly half of those who survive sepsis, according to the National Institute of Health.

Sepsis represents the body’s extreme reaction to infection and can be life-threatening. However, Stefani noted that many sepsis survivors face ongoing struggles, which she and her husband hadn’t anticipated.

“While medicine has improved in helping people survive sepsis, many still deal with its lingering effects,” she noted. “We often think, ‘Great, they’re out of the hospital,’ but that’s just the beginning of a new reality.”

Living in Cedar City, the Ellisons raised 19 children—14 with special needs adopted internationally. Stefani worked as an international adoption specialist, while Stephen taught truck driving. Their lives changed in spring 2023 when Stephen woke up with a sore on his left foot stemming from an old fracture. He donned his work boot and went about his day, but the sore worsened and became infected.

“He came home unable to remove his boot,” Stefani recalled. “His foot was swollen and infected. By the time we got to the hospital that night, they had to amputate his toes.”

The couple believed they had overcome the worst, but weeks later, the infection progressed to sepsis. Stephen would face sepsis two more times, ultimately requiring an amputation below his knee.

“After six months, he seemed to be on the mend, fitted with a prosthetic leg. It felt like we were ready to move forward,” Stefani said. “But he never returned to his former self.”

Post-sepsis syndrome

Stefani observed a noticeable decline in Stephen’s cognitive abilities, once a sharp and resourceful man. Understanding the trauma he faced, she suggested he see a therapist, unaware of the actual name for his experiences.

“He was reluctant, stemming from a generation that avoided discussing emotions,” she remarked. “He kept insisting he was fine, maybe trying to convince himself. But deep down, he must have known something was off.”

His mental state deteriorated alongside his cognitive decline; he struggled with sleep and felt defeated, which in turn weighed heavily on the whole family.

“It affected everyone around him,” she mentioned. “Reaching the two-year mark, he probably thought he should be in a better place.”

On the second anniversary of his amputation, Stefani described the day as “really hard.”

“I’m sure he felt, ‘Why am I not doing better?'” she reflected. “As his caregiver, I shared his exhaustion and couldn’t grasp why progress felt so slow. That day was rough; I thought he had gone to check on the kids, and then he sent a goodbye text—that’s how we knew.”

She remembered discovering the gun safe had been opened, the devastating realization dawning on her that her husband had taken drastic measures to end his pain.

“We managed to trace his phone, but he was already gone,” she said. “It hit us hard and unexpectedly, especially with kids scattered everywhere, not knowing where he was but understanding he was in crisis.”

‘Had we known what to look for’

As Stefani embarked on her own healing journey, she learned that her husband’s struggles were not uncommon, and she feels compelled to spread awareness.

“I had never heard of post-sepsis syndrome, and even our family doctor hadn’t,” she said. “I truly believe that if we had known what signs to watch for, this outcome could have been avoided.”

Many insights Stefani gained came from the Sepsis Alliance, which identifies various physical, cognitive, and emotional symptoms, including anxiety, panic attacks, and PTSD, often accompanied by a fear of sepsis recurring.

“Awareness is crucial, especially since sepsis is one of the leading hospital-related causes of death,” she noted. “It’s crucial to have this information. Knowing it can be frightening, but not knowing is scarier.”

As she reflected on the second anniversary of her husband’s passing, she hoped that sharing his story would assist others dealing with post-sepsis syndrome.

“I hope that discussing it helps others understand that pain doesn’t just vanish,” she said. “If I were to end my life, that pain would transfer to those left behind. It lingers.”

“His children and grandchildren must now live without him for so many more years,” she added. “It didn’t have to end this way, and I carry a sense of regret about that. He loved his family deeply.”

Suicide prevention resources

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, call 988 to connect with the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.

• Huntsman Mental Health Institute Crisis Line: 801-587-3000
• SafeUT Crisis Line: 833-372-3388
• 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988
• Trevor Project Hotline for LGBTQ teens: 1-866-488-7386