COVID: an overview
June 4, 2021 we moved to Ohio. Near the end of June the Lord gave me a word one morning, I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD. At first, I thought it was about my prostate cancer, but that lasted about 5 minutes. Then I knew it was not, but I had no idea what it concerned. I sent it to Anne and told her as much.
July 10 (Saturday), at a baseball game in Urbana, OH I started feeling sick. Sunday morning Mary took me to Urgent Care in Waynesville. They told me I had prostatitis. Wednesday morning (14th) I took a shower; as soon as I turned the water off I had no energy and collapsed on the bed. Downhill from there. Mary took me to urgent care on the 15th; the ER on the 17th, where I was diagnosed with Covid, but sent home. Again on the 18th. Once more on the 20th where they finally admitted me. I just kept going downhill. On the 26th of July I was intubated (put on the ventilator) and proned.
You should see the calendar for August!!! I can’t even imagine what it was like for my family. Covid was doing its best to kill me. Doctors and nurses didn’t think I would make it and some even said so. My pulmonologist told me every time he saw me after I “woke up”, “When I first saw you, I didn’t think you would make it.” Most of the month the hole looked too deep to climb out of: I was out of it, on the ventilator, with a feeding tube. You’d have to talk to Mary about August, all I know about it is what’s on the calendar, the record Mary kept, but it didn’t look good.
August 25 I was transferred by ambulance from whatever unit I was in to Post Acute Medical or PAM. My new room hadn’t been used in a while and it was hot! Mary bought a fan, which Drew put together for her. Still have that fan.
End of August they began taking me off the ventilator: 3 hours on the 27th, 6 hours on the 29th. I remember those trials, very difficult and stressful – it was so hard to breathe. The 31st says “off…off…& stayed off!” September 1, “48 hours off!”
I remember September 2 very well, that was the day they removed the ventilator from my room. Yes!! But I still had a trach and was receiving oxygen.
On Friday September 3rd a speaking valve was placed on my trach. My first words in over a month were, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montaya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”
September 6. My trach was capped, but I was still on oxygen. I stood up by myself for the first time since July! Also, in the very early morning of the 6th, while it was yet dark, the Lord put it in my heart to go outside. The nursing staff worked all day on that and in the afternoon they wheeled me outside. Sybil was my respiratory therapist and she told us, “I’m going to make this happen.” Makes me tear up when I think about all she did for me. And I went outside for the first time since July 20. A small request that called for a lot of work on their part. Thank you!
September 7 my feeding tube was disconnected and I ate my first meal in over a month. Made me so sick!
September 9 I was decannulated. What?? “Tracheostomy decannulation is the process of removing the tracheostomy tube and making sure that they are breathing well without it.” I was breathing well enough that they never put it back in. The tracheostomy had some permanent side effects: I can no longer sing worth anything; I lost the upper register of my voice, both high notes and falsetto, so now I have to pitch everything an octave lower than the melody line; most days I can’t yell; I can always feel it.
September 11 I was transferred to Inpatient Rehab. Three plus hours a day of physical therapy. Oh they worked me! I was still weak and confused. Covid did a real number on my brain.
September 15th, my 58th day in the hospital, I was discharged and went home. Praise to the Lord who kept his promise to me!
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