The handwriting is exquisite. Neat and clear, with elegant downward loops on the y, the g and f. They are history notes for the Junior Certificate that Sophie Lanigan has been working on in the sun-splattered back garden of her house in Hartstown in Dublin 15.
Each section has a title written with red pen and then underlined. I see one, “The 1916 Rising’”, and then the wonderful penmanship.
“Irish republicans rebelled against British rule and wanted full independence for Ireland.”
Handwriting is not an accurate term to describe these pages of beautiful script in her notebook.
Because, to write these notes, Sophie squeezes the pen into the crook of her elbow and forms the letter by moving her shoulder.
Sophie is 15 and is a typical teenage girl. She has a TikTok account, is interested in clothes and make-up and hairstyling, and has an active social life with a great gang of friends. When they hang around at the shopping centre Sophie always insists on walking there or back, even though it can be very tiring.
“She is very determined to be independent,” says her mother, Laura.
The walking. The writing. The quest for independence. The lack of self-pity. All derive from catastrophic episode in mid-December 2022 and her determination to not let what happened define what or who she is.
In the space of a few hours Sophie contracted a life-threatening invasive group A streptococcus infection, with doctors telling her parents she might not live. Ultimately she survived, but at a cost. She had both her legs amputated above her knees and her arms just below the elbow.
On this glorious day in late May, Sophie has been studying in the back garden. She walks inside to the elegant kitchen and sits at the table with her parents, Keith and Laura. It’s clear this is a close and loving family. It’s also clear her parents and her older brother Aaron (20) have left no stone unturned in supporting her, and are also ineffably proud of what she has achieved.
[ How to spot symptoms of sepsisOpens in new window ]
We first met briefly in Leinster House the week before, when the Lanigans came in as part of a group hosted by Minister of State Niamh Smyth. They were raising awareness about sepsis and post-sepsis syndrome.
Laura describes the traumatic events of December 2022: “We spent the day at home, giving her Nurofen and Calpol and letting her rest. However, she woke up the next morning vomiting.” They made a GP appointment for that evening. By the time they got there, she had deteriorated and they immediately called an ambulance.
She was rushed to Temple Street hospital, where she had a blood transfusion, and was then transferred to Children’s Health Ireland Crumlin and put on a ventilator. “Her kidneys were failing and her organs began to fail,” says Laura.
For Keith it was all unreal. “On the Friday before, Sophie was here with one of her friends making TikToks. They were doing handstands against the wall and everything was fine.
[ Daráine Mulvihill: `My life wouldn’t have been any better . . . just easier’Opens in new window ]
“On the Saturday she was out playing in the snow on the trampoline. Then on Sunday she had a temperature, and within a couple of hours everything changed.”
The next seven days were fraught. “Some days things seemed to improve and we’d feel hopeful, and then suddenly everything would go downhill again,” he says.
It then became evident that to save her life her limbs would need to be sacrificed.
“The medication that saved her life caused a lack of blood supply to her hands and feet, which ultimately led to the amputations,” says Laura.
At the end of January both arms were amputated. The following month her legs were amputated.
“Initially, they managed to save her knees, which would have been great because of the joint, but a couple of days later she started spiking temperatures. There was an infection, so she had to go back into surgery and both knees had to be removed,” says Laura.
Even in her hospital bed, knowing that life would be different for her from now on, Sophie was already working on plans to adapt. At the time, she loved making loom bands (made of small colourful elastic rings). She looked up YouTube and found a hand tool used by people with Parkinson’s disease that might be useful. Once bought, she started using it to make loom bands for all the staff.
Swimming became my thing because I did not need my prosthetics in water. I could just get in and swim
— Sophie Lanigan
Determined to get back to school in time for her Confirmation, Sophie went back for a few weeks in spring. Her sixth-class friends made a huge banner for her. “It was really nice but really awkward,” she laughs.
The initial challenge was huge. “Everything had to be relearned. She had to learn how to write again, using a phone, brushing her hair, all those everyday things most people never think about,” says Laura.
“You’re constantly trying to figure out how to make things work again,” says Keith. “We found adaptive equipment online that helped Sophie hold tools.”
That year she spent long periods in the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Dún Laoghaire. “The occupational therapists, physiotherapists and consultants were fantastic,” says Laura.
One of the courses she did was in make-up and her skills as a make-up artist nowadays are peerless.
It was there too that she began to develop a serious interest in swimming. “It became my thing because I did not need my prosthetics in water,” she says. “I could just get in and swim.”
She’s now in a local swimming club and training hard, having recently taken part in her first gala. The family travelled to Paris for the Paralympics in 2024 where Sophie cheered on one of her role models, Ellen Keane, and also table tennis player Colin Judge.
Later this summer, Sophie will test out myoelectric prosthetic arms. Her parents will have to make a case to the HSE for her to get permanent devices.
A fellow Irish sepsis survivor, former TV presenter Daráine Mulvihill, lost both her legs and her fingers as a teenager. She did a remarkable interview with Mary Hannigan more than a decade ago.
In a telling observation, Mulvihill said: “My life wouldn’t have been any better had this not happened, it would just be easier. That’s all. I wouldn’t be a happier person. There wouldn’t be more down days. Disability is just another thing I have to cope with, but it’s not enough to make life terrible.”
And the words ring true for Sophie who remains stubbornly and positively herself, notwithstanding all she has been through.
“As a parent you’re naturally protective, but Sophie is determined to do everything everybody else does,” Keith says.
“Sophie always finds her way.”
