Michael P. Patrick – Survivor, Husband, Father
I never expected to become a patient.
For most of my life, I was the one sitting at the bedside — supporting family members, offering reassurance, believing that if you were careful and did the right things, serious illness was something that happened to other people.
That belief changed abruptly after a car accident and a serious complication during cervical spine surgery.
What followed was a medical crisis that placed me in the ICU, fighting for my life. I spent a week on a ventilator in a medically induced coma, followed by additional time in the ICU marked by severe delirium, hallucinations, and confusion. Much of that first period is lost to me. My wife remembers all of it. The second half will forever be with me.
Surviving the ICU was only the beginning.
In the months that followed, I struggled with the lasting physical, cognitive, and emotional effects of critical illness — challenges that extended far beyond hospital discharge. The experience reshaped my perspective, my identity, and my understanding of recovery. I learned firsthand that survival does not always mean resolution, and that many ICU survivors carry invisible injuries long after they leave the hospital.
At the encouragement of a trauma counselor, I began journaling as a way to process what had happened. Those reflections eventually became I See U: A Memoir of Survival and Shadows, a deeply personal account of critical illness, recovery, and the impact these experiences have not only on patients, but on the families who walk beside them.
Writing the book helped me make sense of a chapter I never wanted but could not ignore. More importantly, it gave me a way to say to other survivors and caregivers: I see you. You’re not alone.
Today, my hope is to help raise awareness of Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS), Post-Intensive Care Syndrome (PICS), and the long road many survivors face after leaving the ICU. I am honored to partner with the ARDS Alliance to share my story, support fellow survivors, and contribute to education, research, and advocacy efforts that center patient and family voices.
If my experience helps even one person feel understood, better prepared, or less isolated in their own journey, then telling this story has been worth it.