My Dad at his ripe old age was still employed, went on cruises and was living the life.  He had a small TIA. We took him to the hospital and he did NOT have Covid.  He was a 23 hour admission, and in good spirits.  23 hours turned into 5 weeks.  He was transferred to a local rehab (which I tried to refuse) and was placed in a room with an old man coughing and very sick.  Dad kept calling me begging to get him out.  We were not allowed to ever visit him. (heartbreaking).  I finally got a call from paramedic, he was transferring my dad to hospital. The facility NEVER called me.  Dad was near death with covid. Took 2 weeks of sickness to finally end his life.  I was not allowed to visit and was kept in the dark. No doctors would call me back. One doctor in charge of hospice called me daily telling me to put him in hospice, which I refused unless I could see hi and tell him I love him. Denied. Denied and denied again. After 5 weeks of living hell I got a call that he was dying and the nurse put the phone to his hear so I could hear him die.  I heard the monitor stop beeping. He died alone, all alone. I never saw his body, we were crushed beyond imagination.  There is a lot more to this story. I am still upset and cry a lot. I got my father back in a cardboard box in a parking lot of a crematory.  Disgraceful ending for a Green Beret Veteran. There is so much more to share, but this drains me and my family.