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One survivor of long ICU stretch reduces his expectations

In 2005, doctors in Cooper University Hospital's intensive care unit saved Michael Warlo's life. Seven-and-a-half years later, the Mount Ephraim man, 54, is still adjusting to the fact that his saved life is little like the one he led before he got Legionnaires' disease.

In 2005, doctors in Cooper University Hospital's intensive care unit saved Michael Warlo's life.

Seven-and-a-half years later, the Mount Ephraim man, 54, is still adjusting to the fact that his saved life is little like the one he led before he got Legionnaires' disease.

Unable to return to his job as a software developer, he's on disability. His memory is bad, and he finds following simple directions difficult. His physical stamina is so poor he needs to rest for an hour after taking the trash out. He has been more anxious and depressed, and his emotions can vary wildly.

He finds it comforting that doctors have given a name to what he's experiencing - postintensive care syndrome - but he can't help mourning his old life. He grapples with big existential questions.

"There's a reason I'm alive, but what is it?" he wonders. "I'm not the person I was before. What is it I can be now?"

Because of his lung problems and a blood infection, he spent six weeks in the ICU, most of it on a ventilator. He recalls almost none of it and has been spared the nightmarish memories that haunt some patients.

Warlo credits his wife for telling him what was happening, even when he was unconscious. He says he thinks the information seeped in. She also kept a written record of events. Reading about his missing weeks helps.

Still, he has had psychological problems. He worries more about illness now. He has researched Legionnaires'. "Every possible way you can get it I'm afraid of now," he said.

A few years after Warlo went home, a doctor had to place a tube in his throat. That rekindled memories of being in the hospital, gagging and in pain, as a student struggled to position a nasal gastric tube. As the new doctor tried to look at his trachea, Warlo started sweating. He grew tense and agitated. "I started to have what was essentially a panic attack," he said.

The cognitive changes made returning to his job impossible. He learns slowly now. Though grocery shopping is a "nice accomplishment," all the choices make it one of the most tiring things he does.

Warlo said he had unrealistic hopes at first because he was improving so rapidly. Even now, he refuses to believe this is as good as it will get.

"It's depressing, literally," he said. "You lose who you used to be. . . . I still want to get it back."