In summary, my husband, myself, and 2 adult children were diagnosed with covid on December 4, 2021. He called his nurse practitioner at our local clinic for some cough medicine.  He was given an oral  steroid and cough medicine. His fever that he had was normal after a few days.  He was still coughing mostly at night, and had some congestion in his chest. We had a pulse oximeter in our home that we had use for my mother.  We would check his oxygen level a couple times a day; it was always in the 90’s.

On the morning of December 15th, he said he needed something for his cough; he had trouble sleeping.   His oxygen was 88.  We lived in a downstairs apartment, but he still went up and down the stairs with no problem that morning.  He was playing with our dogs, and just had a cough and a tightness in his chest.  I recommend he go to the ER to maybe get something stronger.

It was a Wednesday and the clinic was open, but with the covid diagnosis he couldn’t go in the clinic.  He was reluctant to go but decided he would.

It was very cold that December morning. When we got to the ER they took him back, but I wasn’t allowed back by him.  I was out of quarantine and felt fine, but they said no.  I told them that he had hearing aids and still sometimes didn’t hear well.  I also told them that he was severely claustrophobic.

This was at 8 a.m.  No one came to inform me what was going on for a couple hours, I would go up and ask for information.  Finally a nurse came out and said he wouldn’t go in the CT scan, he was very claustrophobic so I am sure that was it.  My son came from work at noon and said that he would stay with me until we went home.  A nurse came out and said he had to be hospitalized. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing,  he walked in there just fine under his own power.  I said couldn’t they send him home with oxygen?  She said in a very stern almost sarcastically voice, “He needs more than we can send home with him.”  They still wouldn’t let me see him. Finally about 3 p.m., a nurse came out and said they had been calling all over Wisconsin, Illinois and Minnesota, to find an open bed.  Our hospital did not accept covid patients.

They found one 2 hours away from us in Portage, Wisconsin.  They said they would be shipping him there in a couple hours.  In the meantime, my son and I were in shock and so confused.  A few minutes later, the ER doctor came out and said he wanted to talk to us.  He said, since the waiting room was only us, he would talk to us there.  He proceeded to lecture us about  not being  vaccinated.  He said people like us are the reason that there are not enough beds for people who need them, like heart attack, stoke and cancer victims.  Again, we were so beaten down with only wanting some stronger medicine for coughing.

The doctor came out again close to 5 p.m., and said, we could go in to say goodbye before they took him, and I wouldn’t be allowed to be with him at the hospital in Portage, so not to even go.

My son and I went in his room, he wasn’t the same guy that was playing with our dogs that morning and walking up and down the steps.  He was exhausted, they kept trying to make him wear an oxygen mask and he could not have it on his face with the claustrophobia.  He said, “I don’t want to go to Portage,  I just want to go home.”  My adult son layed down on his chest and sobbed.  I said, “Maybe they have something better there for covid.”  And added, We will come and get you soon, you won’t be there very long I ‘m sure.”  Little did I know when we said goodbye, it was officially goodbye.  They in our opinion, sent him to HELL!

I talked to my nephew that day when I was in the waiting room, and he said please don’t let them put him on Remdesivir.  I hadn’t heard of it. He said, it’s bad news from what he knows.  So, that evening when Jerry was en route, I called the Portage hospital and talked to a nurse.  I told her that my husband  was on his way, and that he was hard of hearing with hearing aids and was severely claustrophobic.  She said she understood because she was also claustrophobic.  She also said he just got there.

While I was talking  to her I got a call.  It was Jerry.  He said it was a rough ride and a snow storm.  I told him to try and relax, and we’ll talk when he gets settled in.  He called again that night and said he wished I was there.  I told him that I would give anything to be there. We said our “I love you’s.”

The next  morning we talked again. I got a hold of his nurse and asked her for a list of the meds he was put on. She rattled off a bunch, and one was Remdesivir,  I told her that I didn’t like that.  It was bad.  She, in a stern voice said, “That’s all we use here, and have had no bad effects from it.”  I said, “How about  Ivermectin? I heard that was good.”  She answered, “That is horse de-wormer.  We would never use that.”  I also mentioned that vitamin D and Zinc were good, my nephew said to mention that.  She said she would talk to the Doctor about the vitamins.  I also ask her to please make a note to call me if any changes in his condition,  she said they would.  That was Thursday morning, I talked to Jerry several times during the day. He was very lonesome and wanted to come home.

Thursday night he called saying he was freezing.  He could hardly talk from shivering.  He said they said something was wrong with the heat in his room, and they were going to get maintenance.  I got a hold of a nurse and she said they were working on it.  I couldn’t figure why they didn’t take him out of a freezing cold room in December.  He called a little later and said there was heat again.

The next day, I talked to a nurse and she said there was no problem with the heat that he was having a panic attack.  The nurse the night  before said they were working on it.  I talked to Jerry again several times that day, and every time I would ask how he was they would say he’s doing okay.  No better, no worse.

He told me on Friday that they were torturing him. I said are they bothering you when you’re trying to sleep, that’s usually what happens in hospitals.  He said he needed to get home.  I was crushed to hear him plead to come home. Then on Friday, a nurse told me to not bother calling over the weekend that they were short of help.  I asked if I could come and see him on Sunday, she said I could but, could only look at him outside up at his window.   He was on second floor.  I just couldn’t believe I couldn’t wear the garb to go in by him.

I again talk to Jerry on Saturday several times.  The only medical reports on how he was doing was from him.  He only talked about food a couple of times.

On Sunday my son, daughter-in-law and I drove the 2 hours down to see him. We brought him some things to do: his tablet and some crossword books, some Holy Water and his Rosary that we said daily at home.  We were told to leave it in the lobby and someone would take it up to him.  They told us how to find his window outside to look up to see him.  When we went out to look up, it was a smoked glass window.  We couldn’t see him, we talked to him on our cell phones, we could see his hand waving at us. It was so sad we were so close but couldn’t see or be with him.

It was the hardest thing to leave him.  We had another 2 hour ride home, he called me on the way, and said how much he wished I could be there with him. Lots of tears from all of us. I ask him if they brought his stuff up to him, he said, “yes.”  My daughter packed a little bottle of Holy Water, and he said he splashed it all over him.  It was so sad.  When we got home we talked and said our I love you’s.

The next morning a little after nine he called me.  He said, “They said they’re taking me somewhere.  Can you find out where they’re taking me?  I couldn’t understand what they said.”  I told him I would find out and call him back.  I finally got a hold of a nurse and asked her.  She said, “Oh, don’t worry.  They took him to ICU.  We thought his ABG was worse than it was, we’ll bring him back here to our unit.”

So, I tried calling him back but no answer on his phone.  I thought maybe they were transferring him back.  I kept trying his phone, so I decided to call ICU, I asked whomever answered if my husband was being transferred back to his room, that he’s not answering his phone.  She said, “Just a minute.”  A guy came on the phone and said that he was a doctor, and he had some sad news.  He said in a cold, harsh voice that, “He just kept fighting that mask, and kept fighting it.  And he said he told him he had to keep it on, he said they sedated him, but it did take hold he kept fighting it until his heart gave out. He said, “We did some compressions and got it going, and ventilated him but it was too late.”

My daughter was sitting next to me, I  always have phone on speaker at home.  She heard every word this guy said.  Jerry was severely claustrophobic, and they kept fighting him to wear that bipap.  Who would do that???!!!!  He was there only 5 days, they knew being on Remdesivir could weaken the heart and with the claustrophobia they would have another victim to get money for.  I realize now that they really were torturing him with turning the heat off too freeze him for a while.

The guilt I have for letting them take him to kill him is more than I can bear. It’s been a year and 9 months.  Our son goes to the cemetery every single day. Our daughter’s faith is strong and tries to hold us all together.

This was extremely hard writing this but hopefully, someday, we will see justice for him and all the innocent victims of these murderous protocols.

Thank you, Susan Krueger