My husband and I are certainly not what one would consider anti-vaccine. In fact, we had planned to get the COVID-19 vaccine as soon as we were eligible. However, when articles about side effects began disappearing from the internet, we decided to hold off until we could gather more information. Especially because we were both healthy and fit and had no underlying health conditions.
We educated ourselves about alternative treatments and even asked our physician if he would prescribe Ivermectin and Hydroxychloroquine. He refused, asking us why we would consider taking horse medication when a vaccine was available. We knew this was untrue, which further heightened our concerns.

We fell on November 3, 2021, with what felt like the flu. When our symptoms continued to progress, we visited our local drugstore and tested positive on November 7, 2021. I scheduled a virtual appointment with another physician, hoping he would prescribe what we knew were viable treatments. Again, the answer was no.

We had heard countless stories of people treated successfully with Regeneron, and I began to look for clinics. I soon learned that most of these options had also been eliminated. Of the two clinics in our area, one had a two-week waiting period, and the other wouldn’t treat us because we didn’t have a pre-existing condition.

I began to feel a little better, but my husband’s condition worsened. A colleague offered to connect us with her father (a physician in a neighboring state), who was willing to write a prescription. I almost cried with relief, but it was short-lived. I couldn’t find a single pharmacy to fill it. Each cited various and hollow reasons for their refusal. Finally, in desperation, I packed up my husband and dogs in our RV and drove two hours to a drug store that would process it. But this time, my husband’s O2 had fallen into the low 90s. Our new doctor helped us concoct a story so he could qualify for the Regeneron treatment (lying about his height and weight), but by the time he got treatment, too much time had passed. He was admitted to the ICU on November 14, 2021, and we began the hospital protocol nightmare, beginning with Remdesivir. His initial doctors did little to conceal their disdain about our vaccination status. They even tried to convince us to get vaccinated while we were in the hospital, which I knew made no sense at all.

Ultimately, he was intubated and placed in a medically induced coma on November 24, 2021.

I spent the next three months a total of 111 days, two hours from our home, living in my RV in various campgrounds and hospital parking lots. I fought the medical-industrial complex daily (with a LOT of help from the nursing staff). Visitation rules changed daily and seemingly without reason – some days, I could sit with him in his room; other days, I had to sit outside of the glass doors; and still others, I wasn’t allowed into the ICU at all. All the while, patient after patient died all around us. I trained myself to keep my eyes straight ahead so as not to see the devastated family members leaving patient rooms with their loved one’s possessions stuffed into plastic hospital bags.

I endeared myself to the nursing staff by putting myself to work, and they became crucial allies in my fight to keep my husband alive. I helped the nurses change his linens, bathe him, care for his mouth and teeth, and complete physical therapy exercises. They, in turn, taught me how to navigate the bureaucracy and educated me on every aspect of his treatment, medical terminology, medication, and equipment. They taught me how to be his advocate. To this day, thinking of their kindness still brings tears to my eyes.

After four hospitals, 42 days in a coma, 57 days on a ventilator, a feeding tube, 3 lung collapses, multiple chest tubes, and a tracheotomy, we left the hospital on March 4, 2022 (weighing 119 lbs from 170 lbs). Ultimately, our insurance company paid millions of dollars to various medical providers instead of providing us access to a safe and cost-effective treatment. If that’s not the antithesis of “Do No Harm,” I’m not sure what is.