Ray had been a musician since he was four years old.  We met in 1983 in Minnesota after he came from the Philippines.   When anyone met Ray, they loved him.  He played music for thirty-five years at one restaurant in downtown St. Paul.  He played all over for weddings, parties, and special events.

November 19, 2021, Ray was playing a gig where a guest musician came by to join in because all of his band members had Covid.  The next day, Ray told me about the guy, and he said, “He was standing behind me.”  I said, “I guess that’s good.”  That same day, Ray was out working in the yard, when he came in and said, “I don’t feel good.”  Immediately, I told him to go upstairs and take a shower and lay in bed.

On Sunday, November 21, 2021, I began feeling sick, too.  It got worse.  We lost our taste and smell.  We laid around all Thanksgiving week.  All week long, he didn’t eat, and on the 26th Ray went to urgent and they told him he had pneumonia with 104 degree fever.  They gave him Doxycycline, told him to take Tylenol and Advil, and to come back in 10 days to get another x-ray of his lungs.

Sunday, he still had a high fever, I called urgent care.  They stated that he could have a tele-meeting with a doctor on Monday, the 29^th.  That day, I took him to the hospital.  After taking him back, the nurse said, “He’s very sick.  We are giving him oxygen and starting steroids and antibiotic.  You’ll have to leave.  And, just to let you know, forty percent don’t make it out of here.”

That same day, Ray called and asked me to bring his phone charger.  I went and left it at the front desk since I wasn’t allowed take it back to him.

The next day, Tuesday morning, Ray called and said he was feeling fifty percent better.  Later he called to say they put a BiPap on him.  He said, “I can’t breathe.  I don’t know what to do, I can’t breathe (with the BiPap on).  The nurse said he wasn’t cooperating on how to breathe with it.  That day, he finally got a room.

The next day, was sent to ICU and put on the vent.  The doctor called and said Ray consented to being on the vent.  “I asked him if he wanted to die or to be vented,” he said.  Then he made this comment, “If Ray was vaxxed, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.”

I called everyday – every couple of hours. A couple of nurses I spoke with made these comments:  “Did you get a vax?  You need to take it.  Tell your friends to get vaxxed, too.”

They said he was getting worse.  They gave him a paralytic because he kept coughing too much!

Saturday at 11:00 P.M., I was allowed to go in and see him.  He was all ready half dead.  He had on the BiPap mask, and that damaged his lungs.  He apparently kept trying to get out because he kept taking his IVs out and his mask off, so they restrained him.

Sunday morning at 9:00 A.M., I received a call saying you need to come in now.  Ray’s daughter was there since she had come a distance to see her dad.  While she was there, she signed a paper reversing the DNR.  The staff spoke to us and said it would be awful to see him have his ribs break while doing CPR.  By then, he was too gone.  He was so drugged up.  At first they said his kidney function was bad, then they said it was good.  We had them stop the respirator.  He died in my arms.

He was so hungry; they didn’t feed him for four days (plus he hadn’t eaten at home prior to going to the hospital).

Ray was always calm, but the hospital was scaring Ray by telling him he was really, really sick.  He never had anxiety before.  They were giving him drugs for anxiety.  I told the nurse that he never had anxiety before and she retorted, “Well, he does now.”

One doctor said to me, “His organs are amazing.  He’s such a healthy person.”  Then all of a sudden he took a turn for the worst.  The drugs they gave him compromise the breathing.  They gave him Baricitinib, which is a very bad drug to use.

Now that Ray is gone, my life is a mess.  I have three (3) counselors.  I didn’t work for six (6) months.  I am alone, and before this, I had never lived alone in my life.  Ray took good care of me.  If I didn’t believe in God, I would have taken my life.  I am sad and I am mad.  Sad because I miss him, and mad because of what they did in the hospital.

I want the truth revealed to the world about what happened to Ray and too all the others.  How do you get through to people who don’t believe this happened?  Do not go to the hospital, you can’t trust the hospital.  This world is evil.