Northcote-raised and now Unsworth Heights local Anthony Hurst knows just how quickly life can change. In 2020, what began as a typical, flu-like illness became a fight for survival, ending in an induced coma in North Shore Hospital’s ICU, months of treatment, and a long road to recovery. Six years later, and now back on his feet and finally free of crutches, Anthony is sharing his story for a powerful reason: to raise awareness of sepsis, a time-critical condition that remains widely misunderstood. With strong North Shore roots and a new partnership with Sepsis Trust NZ, he’s turning his experience into a life-saving message for the local community and beyond. He talks with Channel Mag’s Liz Cannon.
Channel Mag: What is sepsis, and why is it so dangerous?
Anthony Hurst: Sepsis is a life-threatening condition that arises when the body’s response to an infection injures its own tissues and organs. It's previously been referred to as 'blood poisoning' (due to infection), but sepsis is the correct term. Poisoning is what sepsis looks and feels like. It can develop very quickly; someone can go from mild symptoms to critically ill within hours. In my case, it started with a tiny cut and progressed to septic shock and nearly two weeks in a coma. Once someone has started to display symptoms and signs of sepsis, antibiotics become time-critical. This is why early recognition and awareness are so important; given the consequences, it's amazing to me that so many people have never heard of sepsis.
Take us back to 2020, and how your sepsis journey started.
It was pre-Covid and a great time in our family’s life. Our twins, Josh and Mia, were celebrating two new kittens, and we’d just had an incredible Waitangi weekend in the Bay of Islands – fishing, diving and coming home with a good haul of seafood. Life was good. A few days later, I came down with what I thought was the flu: fever, muscle aches, the usual. What I didn’t realise was that a small cut I got on my foot unloading the boat had allowed Strep A into my bloodstream. I was a frequent ibuprofen user, which I later learned can suppress your immune response. In my case, that likely gave the infection a head start. By Wednesday, my body was reacting, but ironically, I was taking more ibuprofen, unknowingly making things worse. By Friday, Valentine’s Day, I noticed a rash on my leg and realised something wasn’t right. I went to North Shore A&E, but was misdiagnosed with shingles and sent home. A day later, in the evening, when my wife Maria came home from attending an event, she immediately knew something was wrong – she said I wasn’t acting like myself. Despite my protests, she woke the kids, put us in the car and took me to White Cross Smales Farm. That decision saved my life. If I’d gone back to sleep, I likely wouldn’t have woken up.
When did it become clear this was far more serious?
At White Cross, I insisted Maria take the kids home, thinking I’d be waiting around for hours. But I was already in septic shock; my organs were beginning to fail, and I don’t remember much from that point. Later, I learned my blood pressure was critically low, yet I was walking and talking. Adrenaline was masking how sick I really was. I was transferred by ambulance to North Shore Hospital as a Priority 1 case, with suspected necrotising fasciitis. The doctor at Smales Farm, Dr Scott Pearce, pushed hard to make sure I was treated urgently. His intervention was another critical moment that saved my life.
You were placed in an induced coma. What were you told about that period?
Not long after arriving at North Shore Hospital, my condition deteriorated rapidly. Maria was told to gather the family, as my prognosis was grim. The infection in my leg was driving the sepsis, so surgeons had to remove large amounts of tissue. After initial surgery, I was put into an induced coma, but I didn’t improve. Further operations confirmed necrotising fasciitis, and more tissue was removed. By Sunday evening, I crashed. My organs were failing, and my family was told that most likely, I would not survive. In fact, they gave me 0% chance of survival. Despite this, amputation of my leg was approved, but my surgeon, Dr Michael Hulme-Moir, then consulted the Middlemore Burns Unit. They advised him to go aggressively after the infection to avoid amputation. He then removed all the affected tissue in my left leg. Basically, the entire limb was de-skinned. After that, there was nothing more that could be done but wait. My family was kept at my bedside as I hovered between life and death. Miraculously, I began to stabilise. I spent around 12 days in a coma, and when I finally woke up, although I had no memory of what had happened, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. North Shore Hospital's ICU team was absolutely amazing - and their support and the surgeon's treatment were the third intervention that saved my life.
What did the months of treatment look like physically and emotionally?
When I came out of the coma, my entire leg was an open wound. The priority was stabilising me enough to transfer to Middlemore’s Burns Unit, where I spent the next two and a half months. I underwent around 30 operations, often going back into theatre every two or three days. Infection was a constant threat, and there were moments when amputation was still a real possibility. This all happened during New Zealand’s first Covid lockdown. At first, family could visit, but soon restrictions meant no visitors at all. I didn’t see my family in person until I went home. Video calls became my lifeline, especially quick 'proof of life' chats with the kids. But it was still incredibly isolating. There were moments when I had to consciously stay positive and avoid panic, even when things looked bleak. Food was a struggle – takeaways were out of the question, so I went from around 95kg to under 70kg, one of the few to lose weight during Covid! In early May, after a successful eight-hour full-leg skin graft, using skin from my back and other leg, I was back on track, but faced yet another intense recovery. The final days were some of the toughest, but eventually, I turned a corner. After 103 days in hospital, I went home.
What helped you push through the recovery process?
When you’re told you weren't expected to survive, it changes your perspective pretty quickly. Everything after that feels like a second chance. My biggest motivation has always been my family, and Maria knew this. When things were at their worst, she told everyone not to say goodbye, but to talk to me about Josh and Mia. I'm sure that connection gave me something to hold on to. Rehabilitation has been a long journey. I’ve had setbacks and more surgeries since leaving hospital. At one point, there were serious discussions about amputating my foot due to damage and deformity. Instead, I set a goal: To get back on skis! With support from my rehab team, I worked towards it and eventually took my kids to Mt Ruapehu. That first run changed everything. I stopped being 'the dad who nearly died' and became just dad again. It hasn’t been easy, and the emotional toll on our whole family has been huge. But we’re stronger for it.
How has the North Shore community supported your journey?
Family and friends were and continue to be critical, and Josh and Mia never once complained about having to do all the running around for me. I couldn't begin to count the number of dressing changes Maria and Mia have had to do. Eventually, I built a rehab network on the North Shore, which made a big difference. ACC support allowed me to access physio, podiatry and mental health support locally. Our community, family and schools – Albany Primary and Junior High – have all played a role, especially supporting Josh and Mia through what was a very difficult time for them too.
You’re now working with Sepsis Trust NZ. What motivated you to share your story?
It’s taken time to get to this point. Talking about sepsis can still be heavy, but it’s important. Sepsis is terrifying in how quickly it escalates, and so many cases involve missed opportunities for early intervention. When you hear about preventable deaths, it hits hard. The message we want people to remember is simple: “Could this be sepsis?” That question can be asked by anyone – parents, patients, doctors. It doesn’t require medical training, just awareness. If that question had been asked earlier in my case, things could have been very different. I'm constantly meeting people affected by sepsis, many of them sepsis survivors, and sadly, many who have lost family or friends to sepsis. It’s closer to home than people realise, and with cases rising, there’s a real urgency to raise awareness.
What should readers look out for, and when should they act?
It's worth repeating... The most important thing is to ask: “Could this be sepsis?” Sepsis can be subtle at first; flu-like symptoms, fatigue or a forgotten injury. That’s how it was for me. The good news is that it’s treatable when caught early. It’s also about prevention: looking after wounds, using medication responsibly, seeing your GP when something doesn’t feel right, and not taking the typical Kiwi 'she’ll be right' approach. We all have a role to play, and I see my role as raising awareness of sepsis through my lived experience.
For more information about Anthony Hurst, his story and his involvement with Sepsis NZ, go to linkedin.com/in/anthony-hurst-4776503/
Know the Signs of Sepsis
Sepsis can develop quickly and become life-threatening. Early recognition and action can save lives. Watch for symptoms such as:
Trust your instincts: Time matters. Don’t wait.
If something feels seriously wrong, seek urgent medical attention.
Inspired by Anthony's story?
To learn more, support Anthony's campaign, or make a donation, scan the QR code or visit: sepsis-superhero-nz.raiselysite.com/anthony-hurst or sepsis.org.nz
