I am a recent survivor of severe sepsis, like your sister, and spent most of a month, heavily sedated; and another 4-5 weeks in continued confusion and delirium. After acute renal failure, from the sepsis, and resulting dialysis treatments, my kidneys "kicked in" and began functioning. My right-hand fingers and all ten of my toes were amputated, die to gangrene from DIC. Further, I developed Purpura Fulminans on my legs (both, ankles to groin), and massive amounts of black, necrotic tissue were carved away -- almost to bone -- in order to save my life. After nearly six weeks in an ICU at a huge trauma center equipped to deal with the burn-like blistering of the Purpura Fulminans, I was sent to a rehab ward for another six weeks, where I learned to walk and care for myself. There were, throughout the course of hospitalization, lucid moments where I fully realized the probability of being "placed" in a long-term, if not lifetime, care facility. The realization of this likelihood was the most terrifying of the entire experience; skin harvesting from my back, for grafting onto my legs, was the most painful. Now, four months after discharge, I am left without feeling in my lower legs, and continual phantom pain in my toes -- which, of course, aren't even THERE. I've developed callouses, instead of skin, on the bottom of one foot; and the pain is, at times, excruciating. I can almost guarantee that your sister's greatest fear is loss of her independence. You don't say how old she is, but I am 60 and hell-bent on being better a year from now, than I am today. I own a horse and three dogs; there were two beloved old cats, but someone thoughtlessly "gave them away" while I was in the early stages of hospitalization. They escaped from the new owner on the first day and haven't been seen, since. That was eight months ago, and thinking of them nearly breaks my heart. To add to the drama, MY sister literally emptied my apartment, throwing out everything that I have ever owned in my lifetime. It was done in the name of "efficiency," without thought or caring. The best thing you can do for YOUR sister is to keep reminding her that she is making progress, will improve gradually, and that you -- like her -- are waiting patiently for the day when she will regain her independence. It will mean everything to her, to hear you SAY those words. Lord knows, MY sister touted "love." But, to me, she gave up hope from the get-go and provided no real hope to me, in the least.