Joe and I were married for thirty years.  We had a wonderful marriage.  The loss has been extremely hard.

Both of us had Covid.  Mine was a mild case.  The next day, he started feeling bad.  The next day after that, he started to look ashen, and he had fallen to the floor.  I ask him if he could get up, and that is when I called the paramedics.

They came and said his oxygen was at 77, and they thought it might go up.  I called a couple of hours later, they came back and that was when they took him to the hospital for the first time.

He arrived there around 11:00 a.m., and he was not admitted and in a room until 11:00 p.m.  I didn’t hear anything from the hospital until two days later.  They called and said I could pick him up that day.  They sent him home with oxygen.  That was two days after Thanksgiving.

At home, he kept getting worse and worse with the sweats, fever and his oxygen level was low.  Again, I called the paramedics for him on December 2, 2020.  He called me and said, “They are going to keep me five days or so.”

Next day, I called Joe, but it was not him in his room.  It was another woman.  They had moved him to a room in the “900s” for high dosage oxygen.  Later I found out it was ICU.  They were so obscure about any information.  I asked the nurse, “Why wasn’t I called?”  She said, “Oh, I am sorry.”  That was it.

At this time, Joe had on a full mask and he couldn’t take it off, so talking was difficult.

The doctor called me and said, “He should sign a DNR.”  I answered, “No! Stop talking about a DNR.  This is ridiculous, and Joe doesn’t agree.”  I asked Joe if he wanted a DNR, and he replied that he did not.

Then an advocate for the hospital called and said they wanted to talk about a therapeutic facility for Joe.  I said, “Does that mean he will be going there soon?”  He answered, “No, but we just want to be prepared.”

On December 11, 2020, the doctor called and said, “You can come and see him.”  This was because they said he was not going to make it.  I went in to see Joe, and we began to talk things of importance like family, children, and how much we loved each other.  After about 15 minutes, the nurse came in the door and motioned for me to go over there.  Before I left, I told Joe, “I be back in a minute.”

When I got to the door, the nurse told me I had to leave, that my time was up for the visit.  I told her, “But I told Joe I was coming back.”  She quipped, “You cannot go in there again.”  I replied, “I told Joe I was coming back.”  They had a guard there to escort me out.  I never got to see Joe again.

Before he was euthanized, we got to FaceTime for a couple of minutes.  Then they euthanized him and killed him.

This whole thing is a horrible, horrible failure.  They did not treat anyone with compassion.  I will never get over this.