The Story of Steven Traini

To preface Steven’s story: My husband was a Patriot and served our Country in the USAF.  He survived 3 stents, a new knee, a new ankle, a new shoulder, a torn bicep, 2nd degree burns, a fused neck, Celiac Disease, a deviated septum and a chain saw accident.  My husband was a fighter who believed in God.

2021 – I had not visited my mother in a few years, so we were planning a trip to Northern CA to visit her and to celebrate my birthday and the Thanksgiving holiday.

• November 18^th, Steve received negative covid test
• November 19^th, we left Colorado for California
• November 20^th, we continued to travel, and we both were not feeling too well. We stopped along the way and purchased a few standard over the counter flu remedy’s.
• November 21^st, still not feeling well, we arrived at my mom’s.
• November 22^nd, we were feeling ok and were sociable.
• November 23^rd, Steve started to feel bad again.  We stayed in the downstairs suite of my mom’s house.  I brought him breakfast and coffee.
• November 24^th, we were all feeling bad: fever, typical flu symptoms, general aches but Steve stayed in bed and had cheerios and coffee.
• November 25^th, though we still didn’t feel well, the turkey was thawed and had to be cooked, so we did that, but none of us ate much of anything as we were not hungry.  Eventually, the turkey was thrown out as we couldn’t taste anything, not turkey, not sweet, not salt…
• Steve stayed downstairs the 26^th and 27^th, and hardly got out of bed. He had a slight fever of 99, didn’t want to go to hospital though was having intestinal issues.  My mom and I had fevers of 101 +/- (it fluctuated)
• November 28^th, Steve requested his pulse ox as he was having trouble breathing. We took his temperature, and it was 102, his pulse ox was 74. And so started our nightmare.

We checked to see if there was an open Urgent Care, but it had closed.  We had to drive to Enloe Hospital in Chico, CA – about a 30-minute drive from DeSabla (where my mom lived).  I drove our truck with my mom in the passenger seat giving me directions, and Steve in the back seat.  We reached Enloe Hospital, Chico CA, somewhere around 7pm.

We arrived at the ER and the attendant brought out a wheelchair and Steve was wheeled into the center, and they sequestered him in a room off of the main area and gave him oxygen. I filled out all the insurance paperwork and the usual things one does at an ER, as Steve was unable to do this. But he was feeling better having been put on oxygen.  The hospital said they wanted to keep him for observation, none of us thought anything bad about that, we wanted him to breathe and to feel better. I hugged him, kissed him, and said we would see him tomorrow.

• November 28^th. Called the ER in the morning and they said he had been transferred to covid unit as he tested positive.  I was not allowed to see him – which meant my mom and I were pretty certain to have it as well – and CA policy stated that the hospital would be contacting us about quarantine protocol.  748pm Steve texted me saying he was trying to call me. Cell service was sporadic at best at my mom’s place. 802pm, said “please call me” and we could only talk for a brief moment due to his mask, though he did say they said he was also diabetic.  My husband was not a diabetic. 1038pm he texted he’s in room 2214B. At 1038 I called him and phone went to voicemail. At 1104p he texted he was in the bathroom when I called and they “had more medication” for him. At 1132pm, I responded “Good. Just Do not let them give you remdesivir…” and that we were going to go to bed and hope he would get some rest as well.
• November 29^th, they put him on a B-Pap, he was no longer able to communicate. I left messages for the nurses to contact me and tell me what is going on, for the doctor to contact me and tell me what is happening.  I wanted to make certain he was not given remdesivir.
• November 30^th, still not heard from nurses or doctor or anybody from the hospital though again I have left messages with the nurse as I wanted to know what Steve was being given and about this covid protocol I was told I would be contacted on how to implement.

By the time his doctor contacted me, On November 30^th, Steve had been given TWO doses of remdesivir. They gave him that poison without my consent.  My mom and I drove down to the hospital, and I asked to speak with his doctor.  This doctor would not even come out to SEE me, so I proceeded to have a very interesting phone call in the lobby.  I told the doctor to stop the remdesivir.  That the WHO had on their site that remdesivir was not to be given to anybody with covid while in the hospital, that it came out November 20^th. He all but called me a liar. Said he couldn’t find it. My voice raised continually for a good half an hour when finally, the receptionist asked if I would like a private room – which I declined.  I wanted God and everybody to hear what I had to say. Finally, the doctor said he would stop the doses.  After that call, he personally called me every day with an update.

Steve’s first doctor FINALLY called me December 1^st. Somewhere in between the 1^st and 4^th the doc called and said Steve was agitated.  I don’t recall what he said Steve was given.  We finally had some good conversation, and he thought it would be good for Steve to see me.  He talked with the head nurse, and this doc informed me that I was allowed to see him for fifteen minutes on Saturday, December 4^th. Sometime in this same period, I called our personal physician, Dr. Anthony J. Christoff of Colorado Springs, in hope that he could talk some sense into the doctors since they “speak the same language.”  I think in part, that is why I was allowed to see my husband.  Dr. Christoff has been our physician for over 20 years and he knew Steve VERY well.  Anyway, Steve was told that Saturday morning I would be there to see him.  According to his nurse, it brightened him up a good deal. When I arrived, Steve was SITTING UP and going to the bathroom without any assistance, he was feeling better! Additionally, the nurse assisted him with the mask, and he ate applesauce that morning as well, first thing he had eaten since he’d been there. They garbed me all up with the masks and gown and hand sanitizer, even though by now, we know that I’d HAD COVID. [and to interject, we still had not been contacted about the covid protocol] I chatted with Steve and told him the doc said he needed to lay on his belly so his lungs could expand better…he did some difficult maneuvering and patted his tummy…I looked at him quizzically, thru his B-Pap, I could hear him say “I’m on my tummy” – that was a very positive sign! He wanted to live!  I got to see my husband, tell him to fight and that I would see him tomorrow (Sunday Dec 5^th).  After the 15 minutes I left – yes FIFTEEN MINUTES – the nurses were having a fit that I got to see him.  His arms were bruised, I assumed it was for IV’s as he had veins that liked to move.  I told the head nurse I would see her tomorrow and she said no, we’ve already broken protocol for you…and I said “I told my husband I would see him tomorrow!” she relinquished, and they ‘bent the rules’ and I was able to see Steve on the 5^th.  It was about half an hour I was able to spend with him – the nurse on duty told me she had something to do to keep her occupied, so to spend some time with him as it helped him.

• On Sunday the 5^th, Steve’s doctor said there would be a new doctor taking over, a lady doctor, Dr. Davis. Sarah J Davis.  He informed me that he left strict notes that she contact me at least daily, as “Ms. Traini likes to know how her husband is doing” and he believed she would do so.  And even told me he believed she would do so, but it might not be until Tuesday as she was very busy coming back into a shift.
• I called multiple times every day from December 6^th thru December 12^th.  Not a damned call did she EVER return!!  I had a nurse call me a couple of times and said Steve was getting worse, but that they could not let me see him unless he was on his death bed.  No amount of logic could sway that STUPID statement.
• Sunday, December 12^th, 2021 at 2am I sat bolt upright in my bed and cried out “NO NO NO!” and cried myself back to sleep after praying to God to watch over my Steve.  Just after 10am, that witch of a so-called doctor called me to tell me Steve kept taking his mask off in the middle of the night and now they had a nurse staying with him so he could not continue to take his mask off. She said he wanted to die. She said it didn’t look good.  I asked her “can I see him NOW?” no response.  I asked again louder “CAN I SEE HIM NOW?” still not a peep out of that evil person so I asked again “CAN I SEE HIM NOW?!?!”  and this individual who took an oath of “I shall do no harm” still did not answer me.  Angrily I said I will be there in 30 minutes – You better let me in.

I arrived and oddly enough the receptionist let me in with no questions about being vaccinated. They were expecting me. They EVEN allowed my mom to go in as well, of course, after being fully covered with this paper crap and masks and sanitizing our hands before putting on gloves.  Upon entry into his room, we were told we could only be there FIFTEEN minutes!  My husband was dying and we could only have fifteen minutes!!  For a short time that afternoon, Steve had decided he wanted to live and would keep his B-Pap on…but then his body started shutting down, he looked at me and said, “I’m done.”  The insenstive and totally uncaring nurse on duty kept coming in and saying our 15 minutes were up – we basically told her to go take a flying leap as we were not leaving. My mom and I were there until he passed at 220pm, but not before the nurse allowed him to suffer one more time of not being able to breathe as she swapped him from the BPap – [a process which took her five minutes!] to the easier to use and breathe mask, the one through the nose that is used for comfort care.  When the BPap was removed, the stench was terrible…the Thrush he was enduring had to have been terrible and painful and NOTHING had been done!  When he was entered into the hospital my husband weighed over 230 lbs.  He was skin and bones when I saw him December 12^th and passed while my mom and I were holding his hands.