By 10/18/21, Dennis and I both had the delta variant of COVID-19.  At first we thought, this isn’t as bad as a cold or the flu, but as the week progressed, we really got sick, and Dennis couldn’t breathe.

On 10/25/21, our son drove his dad to the hospital.  I was pretty sick and was unable to talk on the phone.  Right away, Dennis was put on the bi-Pap.  We had requested monoclonal  antibodies. Dennis told his brother that he was better that his oxygen was in the 90s, and they were going to treat him with remdesivir, dexamethasone and lovenox. He even said that he was coming home in a day or two.

On the 26th, he began the medication regiment, and within two days, he had declined and was vented.  On the 28th, he stopped texting me and everyone else.  He began declining.

November 10th he was trached.  When I went to see him, he was restrained.  They tried to extubate him, but they were unsuccessful.  November 15th, they removed him from isolation.  He was restrained but remained in a medical induced coma.  Why was he restraiined if he was in a coma?

I was allowed to sit outside his room and look through a glass door for hours at a time.  In this location, I could hear the nurses at the nursing station talk about “the unvaxxed getting what they deserved.”

They began taking him out of the medically induced coma; his oxygen levels were in the 90s.  The nurse held the phone to him so I could talk to him.  He was alert.  I asked if he was in pain.  “No,” he replied.  Then I asked, “Are you scared?”  He shook his head, yes.  I trusted what the doctors were doing, so I said, “Don’t worry.  They are doing this until your lungs get stronger.”

He was doing better, was lucid, smiling and even panicking thinking it was close to Christmas.  They allowed me to suit up and go in to see him.

He was supposed to be moved to rehab on the 18th.  The respiratory nurse kept us abreast of what was going on.  Then they found a little blood around his mouth, but no concern.  One of the nurses went in to irrigate the tube and was very aggressive in doing so.  I made comment to the nurse about the aggressiveness.  That nurse was one of the nurses talking about unvaxxed people.  He left the room, and 10 to 15 minutes later, my husband started hemorrhaging.  No one was around.  I had to exit his room and asked a nurse for help, and her response was, “He’s not my patient,” and with that, she walked away.

The first respiratory nurse showed up (who had been nice) and panicked with taking out the oxygen tube.  Because he had hemorrhaged, they put Dennis into another coma to find out what was causing the bleeding.  A specialist was consulted, but he did not have any communication with me.

The next day, the 19th, he was supposed to be moved to rehab.  Then the respiratory therapist who was so aggressive prior to his bleeding, walked out of my husband’s room.  Soon after, all the alarms went off and Dennis was bleeding again.  The regular nurse came in to stop the bleeding and called a specialist to do emergency surgery in his room.  Maybe ten people were in his room then.

He began coming out of anesthesia and the doctor asked for something he needed for the surgery, but the nurse who was able to get the item said, “He’s not my patient.”  That irritated the doctor and he told him to get what it was he was asking for.  The nurse retrieved the item, but the phone rang while he walked by, so instead of taking the item directly to the doctor, he answered the phone before getting the item to the doctor.  The doctor said to the nurse, “What the hell are you doing?”

After the surgery, the doctor said he had done all he could do.  Early in the morning, I received a call from the doctor who said, “He took a turn for the worse.  Do you still want him life flighted to Geisinger Hospital?  I said, “Yes.”

Only two people were allowed to see Dennis – my brother-in-law and me.  Any progress he made, didn’t last.  There really was no reason for the lesion. The Geisinger doctor said, “There’s no hope.”  I replied, “There’s always hope, and stop talking like that.”

We have had a very difficult getting his medical records.  Geisinger required $2000 for a week’s records.  The other hospital charged $1700, and took my attorney to collections.

Every part of our lives have been affected by my husband’s death.  He was a musician, so the room was always full of music.  My son was devastated.  Everyone came and said they would help, but no one has come.   Everyone loved Dennis; he built an oasis in our backyard.

We have no income and it seems like everything has broken.  Every piece of my life – he did everything around here.  Dinner was an event.  The loneliness is deafening.  We had a new RV – at least we got to go out a couple of times.  We were always doing something together.

If I could tell the world something, it would be to appreciate those in your life.  Don’t blindly trust that people always know what they are doing.  Now, I say, “I’ll look in to that,” before I make a decision.

My dad had lung cancer and he went to the doctor and tested positive for COVID-19.  The doctor said he was going to put my dad on remdesivir, and I said, “Over my dead body.  You are not giving him remdesivir.”  Be cautious and be your own advocate.