My children’s dad and I have always been close.  Even after we divorced and both remarried, we still stayed a family. We had all gotten covid and lost the girls grandfather first. Jonathan and his daddy died a month apart. Jonathan got sick around 9/4, got to feeling better, but then got worse again on 9/18, when he was admitted from the ER. He was started on Remdesivir against his wishes as soon as he was admitted.

We talked to him by text every single day. He texted the whole family, letting us know what was going on, and he hated being isolated and alone. His kids all made a big sign and stood outside the hospital under his 5th floor room so he could see it, because they wanted him to know how much they loved and missed him, and wanted him to get well and come home. But, by then he was so weak, that he couldn’t get up by himself – he was texting with them telling them that he couldn’t get up, so we called the nurses since they weren’t answering him, to see if they would help him get to the window to see his children and their sign.

They LIED to us, saying that he “didn’t want to get up” so after 3 hours, we gave up and went home. The kids never got to see him alive again. He really went downhill during the first week there, we believe it was due to the Remdesivir, because when he went in, he was as healthy as a horse, being a former US coast guard member. His kidneys started failing that week, and on 9/27, they called and told us he needed to be vented “to let his lungs rest.”  He coded that night. They told us they got him back quickly, but the patient portal notes say it was 15 minutes before they could revive him.

After that, they did scans, and told us he was brain dead. However, they REFUSED to show us the scans!  I’m missing a lot, I know, but I now suffer from PTSD. The night they told us they were going to remove the vent we all got to go in except for his own 3 young children, who were waiting outside, and never even got to see him after he passed away. I’ve never seen anyone look the way he looked when we went in. Not only was he on the vent, but he had tubes coming from both his lungs which had also collapsed.

He was on blood thinners, so blood was everywhere. He had a cut on the side of his cheek from where he was taped from the vent, as well as huge open flesh wounds under the sides of the mask. It was awful. I didn’t watch them take the vent out but my husband did.  I just couldn’t look till the blood was gone. After it was out, they gave him 4 shots of fentanyl, one after the other, until his heart stopped, and he was gone. Just like that, the life of my forever-best friend, and the father of my children was taken from him. They killed him that night, and now all we have left of him are the memories.