In the first hospital I was isolated in a very tiny room without food or water. Nobody was talking to me, I had no idea what was going on other than they said I had Covid pneumonia. I remember people rubbing my legs vigorously and telling me they were putting in a small catheter, they said it was one that they put in babies. I was left in that tiny room for several days and then transferred to a Covid unit where everyone was on a ventilator. I guess they expected me to cave in and accept to be vented but I just kept saying NO. A doctor would come in to check my feet and occasionally a CNA to clean the genital area. After several days there I was sent out of the Covid unit to a hospital room where they finally sent in food and water but I was rarely attended to.

They expected me to clean myself, get myself to the bedside commode and kept telling me to sleep on my stomach because that would help my lungs get better. I could barely lift my arms or move my legs and with a bipap or large cannula on my face how was I supposed to sleep on my stomach? I couldn’t even move my body to sleep on my side, I don’t know how I was able to get myself up off the bed to use the commode but I did when I could but often I didn’t make it. I asked if someone could comb my hair but I was told they were not allowed to do that. I had no help for personal hygiene like brushing my teeth or washing my face. My hands were full of blood from digging out the blood clots in my nose. My hair was full of blood from a fall at home where I went unconscious before getting to the hospital; that head wound was never attended to.

I had very long hair but they just kept pushing it back away from my face when they would put the bipap back on me. It was close to 5 months before I could get my hair washed and cut, there was no way to save my hair it was just a large matted ball of sweat and blood, it was awful. A lot of the CNA’s were from Haiti and it was very hard to understand them, I found that they lack compassion and empathy never mind that half of them were male and I was not comfortable with them cleaning my private areas. Occasionally a random doctor would come in to ask how I was feeling then touch my toes and leave, it was very scary, lonely and creepy all at the same time. I was not allowed any visitors just phone calls.

After about 22 days they sent me to Landmark Hospital in N. Naples, they said it was a rehab and that I would do better there, that the facility was better suited to care for me in long term but that I would probably be there only about 10 days, well I was there for the better part of 3 months. They wasted no time getting another CAT scan and x-rays. I had a little hope when I left the first hospital since they had said I would only be there about 10 days but once I got to Landmark that was short lived. The head doctor started pressing me to get on a ventilator and said if I didn’t that I would die, and of course I said NO. He was small in stature and proved himself quickly to be extremely cold and hard core, I didn’t like him or trust him. Since he couldn’t persuade me to go on a vent he decided to bring in my CAT scan to show me how badly hurt my lungs were.

I knew then for sure he was a dangerous man so I immediately reacted and told him to get out of my room, I told him if he couldn’t come to me and bring me hope then get out! You need to give my body time to heal, let my body do what it knows to do! I need more time! I couldn’t believe the gall and indifference, he tried to scare and intimidate me. What kind of person does that?? What kind of doctor does that?? Isn’t it his job to help people especially when they are sick and vulnerable? What happened to “First Do No Harm”?? After he left my room some of the staff came in to apologize for his lack of compassion, they did go on about what a good doctor he is but needs a better bedside manner. Well, too late now the damage has been done.

I quickly started getting worse. My veins were shot so they ordered a PICC line and only God knows what they were putting in me after that, what I do know is that I was getting worse by the day, when before I got there I seemed to be getting better and was full of hope, now all I could do was pray. My legs and arms became heavier and almost impossible to move. I was in a diaper at this time and couldn’t eat. I was having several bouts of diarrhea and bed sores had become quite a problem.

When my special CNA was not there I would have to wait several hours before someone would change me. The bed sores became so bad that I had to ask for pain medication, they did give that to me. When I found out they were giving me a diuretic I started refusing it…why were they giving me that?? I started refusing other medications they were giving me like one pill for gerd and sleeping meds. I had developed a terrible cough and they were giving me what they called pearls which did absolutely nothing. They were giving me vitamins but they were of a very low quality so I had my son bring in my own supplements of C..D..zinc..B12 and Manuka Honey.

I have to complain about the main RN that was giving me the meds. She was awful. They were giving me shots in my belly for blood clots and she was the only one that made that painful, even taking my temperature she had to shove the thermometer in my mouth, I would have pull it out of my mouth and hold it to get her hands away from me. Taking my blood pressure was a very painful experience, she pumped the cuff up so hard I would beg her to stop but she just kept doing it.

She also liked to complain to the doc that I was refusing some meds. In the beginning they were giving me so many pills at once that I was getting terrible cramps so I started telling them I can’t take that many pills at once especially since I wasn’t eating any food. She was trying to get me in trouble with the doctor telling him that taking all those pills does not make me sick or hurt me. Well, she was wrong and I was glad that he didn’t press that.

When they decided to start getting me out of the bed and sit me in a recliner it was extremely difficult, just sitting up on the side of the bed was bringing my heart rate up and breathing seemed impossible, I needed a non rebreather on top of the cannula…by this time I only had the bipap at night. The charge nurse (nurse Ratched) is a horrible person. She was another one who liked to tell me I was going to die if I didn’t get up and walk.

One day she came in to help me get into the chair but she didn’t want to wait until I was ready to stand so she pulled and yanked on my arms to get me to stand up so I pushed her away. She yelled out to the CNA…”did you see that, she just punched me”. I wish I had had the strength to punch her, she deserved it. I reported her to the hospital director and requested that she not attend to me anymore.

They also tried to get me to consider the vaccine. They would send in likeable nurses and PT’s who would tell me their wonderful stories about the vaccine and how they are saving lives and how good they feel about themselves. I would politely listen until they had to leave.

Everyday he came in and tried to convince me to get vented, eventually he actually said “well it looks like your lungs are improving and we are probably not going to vent you” but again that was short lived and on another day he said “you are not getting better, if you don’t go on a ventilator you’re going to die”. Fear started rushing in but the prayers from so many people had become relentless. I was being supported but not by this doctor nor his staff except for one RN, one CNA and 2 respiratory nurses. I had a plethora of people from all over the world praying for me and the sweetest RN from Ukraine and a CNA from China and 2 respiratory nurses from the USA. I was also having my conversations with God.

It took some time but I got my miracle, I started getting better. I really think that doctor just gave up trying to kill me. Prayer has a way of infiltrating even the darkest of hearts. Eventually he took me out of ICU. Once I was in another room 2 of the respiratory nurses came to see me and shut the door behind them. They wanted me know that they had been praying for me and how happy they were that I was alive. They told me when they found out I had refused the ventilator they started praying for me to continue to hold my ground and not give in to the doctor and get vented.

They said that they see what is going on but they have no voice, that they had no power. I thanked them for the prayers, I was truly grateful but I did have to tell them that they were wrong in thinking they have no voice. I reminded them of the Nuremberg Code and asked them to look it up and they need to understand that keeping silent makes them an accomplice.

I stayed until my insurance ran out. They were sending me to a nursing home and I certainly was not ready for that, even respiratory agreed that I needed to stay with them a bit longer but the doc and insurance company said it was time to go. Now on to another nightmare.

Nursing home….A different doctor maybe twice a week..NO respiratory nurses…quality of care goes down significantly…RN’s are either high or can’t speak English and I’m not kidding. Most of the staff are from Haiti, so so hard to understand what they are saying and they get pissed having to repeat themselves. I watched a night RN outside my window getting high in a car with a guy, she was supposed to bring in my night meds at 10pm, she never brought them even after hitting the call button and asking the CNA’s to bring her in 3 different times.

I finally called the facility and no one would answer the phone. She left her shift never attending to me. I did file a report but nothing came of it. The only good thing I can say about my stay there is after about 3 weeks I finally got someone to take me to a shower and get my hair cut. 5 months of hell…5 months of terror…5 months of fear…5months of never-ending prayer. I believe in MIRACLES!!!