Michael became ill on July 30, 2020.  We tried to wait it out at home, but he became increasingly lethargic.  We did not seek help right away, because our son who was also ill, was turned away from urgent care.  However, on August 3rd, I had to bring him to the Eglin ER.  I walked in with him, but I was not allowed in.  They took my temperature and was told I had a fever.  That was the last time I saw my husband of 44 years.  I went and sat in the car for 3 hours.  No one called me, so I finally reached a nurse.  She said he had Covid and was being admitted.  He was admitted with hypoxia, dehydration and his liver and kidney numbers were out of whack.  Even with that, he was administered 200mg of Remdesivir.

He did text me occasionally over the next few days and called me one day.   Things were going ok, it seemed, for a few days, but that started to change about August 8th.  After that nothing, if I did not call, I heard nothing from the hospital.   It should be noted that I was at home extremely ill with Covid and my 35-year-old son was in another hospital with Covid, going through his own nightmare with hospital protocol.

Truly, I am not sure what happened, after that.  One day my husband texted saying that he was feeling better and that they were going to try and wean him from the CPAP.   Then as I said, everything changed.  I was confused.  Apparently, they were having issues with his lungs which I was unaware of. I remember talking to a doctor during this downturn and told him to get my husband a priest. He said it was taken care of.   Next thing I know, I received a call from the doctor saying that my husband had a leak in his Thoracic Cavity, and he was going to die today.  The doctor told me that they told Michael that he was going to have a massive heart attack today, and when he did, they could not help him.  So, they got him to sign a DNR added sedation and then they pulled the oxygen.  They said I was in agreement with this, but barely remember the conversation.

There was no advocate present.  His own doctor (who was in the same building) was not aware that he was in the hospital and ultimately did not even know he died. At this point, I still am not sure his cardiologist was even notified.   I assumed these doctors would be advised.

I cannot go to this clinic or hospital anymore.  I am afraid and angry.  Mike and I thought we could trust them; we were Military after all.  For 3 years, I have not allowed myself to think about this experience, but the words of the doctor always pop in my head, “Your husband is going to die today.”