On September 20, 2019, six years to the day she lost her leg, Kristin launched her “Kristin P. Can” social media campaign on Instagram @kristinpcan. “I am ready to share my story,” she wrote. Over a year later, nearly 1,500 followers are tuning in. Kristin’s feed features inspirational quotes alongside photos and videos of Kristin walking up and down stairs, stretching in yoga poses, riding bikes, kayaking, shopping in stores, cooking, traveling with family, enjoying the beauty of nature with friends.
“I do what most people do; the only difference is that I do it with one leg,” says Kristin, who tattooed a wave on the inside of her left arm to remind herself to “surf and stay above the storms of life.” Kristin’s allure to those who know her, and now to those who don’t, stems from her “extraordinary attitude” and “exceptional resilience,” says her long-time friend and former neighbor Keiley Fuller. “Nearly everything we do and take for granted is harder for Kristin, but she never says it. She never complains, ever.”
Kristin lost her leg on Friday, September 20, 2013. The week before, she went to a local restaurant to meet a friend for dinner. Kristin and Corby, her husband of 18 years, had just filed for divorce, and Kristin was looking forward to a girls’ night out. As Kristin jostled through the restaurant’s crowded bar area to reach her table, she rolled her ankle. “I didn’t think much of it,’ she remembers. Yet the next morning, Kristin was in enough pain that she went to see an orthopedic doctor who she knew through her work as the Outreach Director for Maplewood Senior Living headquartered in Westport, Connecticut. The doctor diagnosed a second-degree sprain and torn tendon. His RX? Rest, ice, and elevate.
By Monday, Kristin could hardly move. She called her doctor and asked for pain medicine. He prescribed Vicodin. She sent him many photos of the black and purple blisters that were forming and growing over her swollen, tightened, and stretched skin. He wasn’t alarmed. When Kristin asked to return to the doctor that Wednesday for a re-check, she recalls that he “sliced the skin and casted my foot.” The doctor lanced the blisters and tightly wrapped Kristin’s foot and ankle up to her knee, assumedly to alleviate pressure and provide some kind of support.
By Thursday morning Kristin felt her “body shutting down inside, bit by bit,” and, in a moment of lucidity, she asked her soon-to-be-ex-husband to please call 911. By the time the paramedics arrived, Kristin’s blood pressure was 74 over 50.“Somewhere during that ride to the hospital I just went away,” says Kristin.
Inside Kristin’s body a Strep A bacteria had taken hold in her ankle and developed into necrotizing fasciitis or what is often referred to as “flesh-eating disease.” Treatment for necrotizing fasciitis requires opening muscle fascia, excising infected tissue, and removing enough surrounding tissue to ensure the infection is completely eliminated. “It was like chasing a car going 100 miles per hour up interstate I-95,” said Dr. Kevin Miller, a surgeon at Stamford Hospital who oversaw Kristin’s care. “We administered broad-range antibiotics to try and save Kristin’s ankle. Hours later the team was amputating her leg to try and save her life.” Kristin’s surgeons removed her leg six inches above the visible bacteria line. Yet by that time she was in full-blown organ failure due to widespread sepsis. Kristin’s heart stopped, twice; her kidneys lost function; and her lungs filled with fluid. The team at Stamford Hospital called Corby and told him to come in with his and Kristin’s four children, who were then ages 6, 9, 11, and 14, to say goodbye.
At some point during the time she was unconscious, Kristin experienced what is widely known as an NDE (a near-death experience). “I saw an explosion of white light that was so intensely bright it should have hurt my eyes, but it didn’t. My heart was beating strong and fast. I felt excited and full of anticipation. My senses were electric, and I was overcome by this incredible sense of love.”
What brought her back?
“The faces of my four children flashed in my mind’s eye, one by one, from oldest to youngest—Carey, Caitlyn, Ryan, Chloe—and immediately I was pulled back,” recalls Kristin.
Meanwhile, Kristin’s friends and community rallied. Phones rang, texts pinged, and the hospital’s waiting room filled. Kristin’s pastor and friend, Reverend Brandi Drake of Noroton Presbyterian Church in Darien, Connecticut, organized a last-minute community prayer vigil. “There must have been more than 150 people packed in that little sanctuary,” remembers Rev. Drake. “We held the image that we were all storming heaven with picket signs that read: ‘We want Kristin.’ And then we sang Amazing Grace.”
On Tuesday, September 24th, five days after being taken from her home by ambulance, Kristin woke up. When it became clear that Kristin would live, her friends and family sighed a breath of relief. “Their trauma was over, and mine was just beginning,” remembers Kristin. After two weeks in Stamford Hospital, Kristin was transferred to a rehab center. Friends arranged daily lunches for Kristin and her many visitors during her six-week-stay and filled her room with flowers, photos, books, and get-well cards. “My family and friends did everything for me,” remembers Kristin. “They washed my hair, dressed me in soft pajamas with matching single flip flops, fed my family, drove my children, walked my dog, made me playlists of amazing music.”
This outpouring of compassion and support is, Kristin says, what helped her through the waves of despair that came during those first few weeks. “I was grateful to be alive but not 100% sure I would ever roll over again without feeling like a knife was slicing through me, never mind be able to get up and walk again.”
A malpractice case was filed against the doctor who misdiagnosed Kristin’s ankle, and Kristin, and her lawyers, would spend the next five long years in a heated battle with that doctor’s insurance company. In September 2018, two days before the trial was set to begin, the insurance company capitulated, and Kristin was awarded an undisclosed settlement.