Kalispell child endures rare E. coli infection

At first, it seemed like an ordinary virus.

On a Tuesday in mid-January, Emmery Heimerl, a 2-year-old who’d barely ever had a cold, developed stomach pains. As her fever climbed to 102, her mother, Zoey, took her to a clinic in Kalispell. Rotovirus, they said. Make sure she gets plenty of fluids.

On Wednesday, Emmery’s discomfort only increased. Zoey and her husband, Phil, grew concerned at the precise timing of Emmery’s pain — every 10 minutes, on the dot, she’d wake up crying.

By Thursday, her condition was declining rapidly. Emmery was severely dehydrated and exhausted. Bloodwork at the clinic showed that her platelet count was extremely low — too low to clot and prevent her from bleeding out if scratched. She was rushed to the emergency room.

That night, Emmery underwent a blood transfusion, then an emergency appendectomy. It seemed like the worst was over.

But Emmery was septic, her kidneys failing because of complications from an infection of E. coli bacteria. The doctors then gave Zoey and Phil a choice: Seattle, Salt Lake City or Denver?

They didn’t understand at first. It wasn’t until the doctor explained that she needed a destination for their life flight helicopter, immediately, that the seriousness of the situation sunk in.

“I wasn’t really scared until they said we needed to leave,” Zoey remembers.

By Saturday, Zoey and Emmery were on a life flight to Denver Children’s Hospital. It would be nearly a month until they returned home.

The fight for Emmery’s life started with a common bacteria. Known for its role in recalls of contaminated foods, such as lettuce or flour, E. coli is actually a family of bacteria that mostly live in human or animal intestines. Most E. coli bacteria aren’t harmful to humans, but a few produce deadly toxins that cause bloody diarrhea, vomiting, and in severe cases like Emmery’s, acute kidney failure.

The Heimerls aren’t sure where Emmery contracted E. coli; it’s difficult to pinpoint, as the bacteria is found all around us — in raw meat, untreated dairy products, water, animals or other humans. The week before she fell ill, Emmery swam in a hotel pool, helped her dad prepare jerky and ate numerous potentially E. coli-infested foods. Phil also developed an infection, but like most adults, he got over the food poisoning in 24 hours.

Emmery, however, was a different story. E. coli is much more dangerous for children under age 5, who are at risk of developing Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome, also known as HUS. Toxins from the bacteria damage red blood cells, blocking tiny vessels to the kidneys and preventing the body from clearing waste and fluids. Consequences can be dire without immediate emergency care.

For Emmery, this meant a litany of tests, procedures, machines and precautions. Once she arrived in Denver, she was intubated — a tube placed through her trachea to help relieve fluid pressure on her lungs. She was placed on continuous dialysis to clear her body of waste. She was sedated, taken off dialysis for another blood transfusion, then put on dialysis again.

It was “one thing after another,” Zoey recalls. She and Phil, who had arrived in Denver a day after her, stayed day and night by Emmery’s side in her hospital room. The 2-year-old was swaddled in restraints and machines — a catheter, Velcro ties on her hands to keep her from unplugging something and the gigantic intubation machine on her neck that frightened her every time she awoke.

“It was heartbreaking, seeing her like that,” says Zoey. “You still don’t really understand. It was the hardest to watch her struggle.”

“You just really can’t even explain it. When there’s nothing you can do — I mean, we just said a million times, ‘God, I would just swap her in a second. Let me do this for her.’”

Yet after all this, the scariest part was still to come. That Friday night, just shy of a week in Denver, Emmery had her first seizure as Zoey looked on.

“That was probably the scariest thing for me,” she says. “I’d never seen one, and she’s foaming at the mouth...it was horrible. It’s just crazy that a body can go through that and not be permanently damaged.”

Along with her HUS, Emmery had developed Posterior Reversible Encephalopathy (PRES), swelling in her brain caused by high blood pressure that led to seizing, headache and hallucinations.

Luckily, the staff at Denver Children’s were prepared, as PRES often accompanies HUS. Under their care, she was clear of seizures and off intubation within a few days. By the end of the week, she could even indulge in some ice cream.

Still, it was a long road ahead. There were pain meds to take and more tests to run. Zoey and Phil stayed through all three weeks with the unwavering support of their family and friends, who held down the fort at home and took care of Emmery’s 6-year-old brother, Riley.

“They were all so supportive. We had group messages going so they went through the whole ride with us,” Zoey says, adding that the community has rallied behind the family. “We’ve got messages, calls — people have come together like crazy.”

That support has coalesced into a fundraising page and a silent auction and spaghetti feed this Sunday, Feb. 25 from 2-6 p.m. at Fatt Boys Sports Bar in Kalispell. Proceeds from the event will help cover Emmery’s extensive medical costs.

For Zoey and Phil, the relief is tempered with spreading the word on the risks of E. coli and HUS, especially for young children.

“It just needs to be more out there,” says Zoey on awareness of HUS. “It’s hard for us to live in a bubble. There are so many ways you can get it.”

In the meantime, the Heimerls are enjoying being back home. Emmery is on the mend, not quite her former “loud” self, but feeling well enough to crank out some tunes on her toy guitar and look forward to a princess-themed 3rd birthday on March 6.

The Heimerls are ready for “just getting [Emmery] back to her normal life and abilities,” says Zoey. Already, the bubbly two-year-old asking for chocolate has come a long way since her month in the ICU. Zoey shakes her head at the whirlwind of it all. “Just how many people have reached out to us — it’s amazing.”

Adrian Horton can be reached at ahorton@dailyinterlake.com, or at 758-4439.