Hello Everyone.
This may be one of the longest blog posts Ive ever written in here. If you make it to the end, congratulations, and also thank you for reading. Im hoping that by sharing some of the specifics of our story, others can know a bit more about this mystery covid virus, and maybe know more than I did when it’s time to call and get help for someone you care about.
It has been a month or so since I last posted in here. Life turned chaotic very quickly about a month back, when my family was directly hit by covid-19. The whole experience was terrifying and surreal. Now that we are finally coming out on the other side of this, I can write about it and tell you all what’s been going on.
Last time I wrote in here, our family was waiting on covid test results for my mom. About a week before that, she had learned that two friends of hers who were at a very small get-together at one of their homes, that my mom had also attended, tested positive for covid-19. The women did not know at the time of the gathering that they were positive, and they had no symptoms at that time, and no reason to think they would be positive. When my mom learned her two friends were positive, she told her doctor and her doctor set up a test for her. Two days after she was tested, the results came back as positive for covid-19.
Now every single person who had come into contact with my mom in the last couple of weeks had to also get tested. Me, my boyfriend, my dad, my brother. As we all got tested at different sites and awaited our results, we were told to not only social distance from the world until having the results, but also from the people we live with. So for a little over a week, my brother had to not see his own kids (he’s divorced and normally sees them several times per week), my parents had to live seperately in their home from each other, and Nick and I had to live seperately in our own apartment. He moved out of our bedroom and slept on the futon, we didnt use the same plates or silverware, we didnt touch each others things, no hugs or touching each other at all, and we disinfected before and after each use of the bathroom, since we only have one bathroom. Disinfecting and cleaning every damn time you have to pee is extremely annoying, let me just tell you. I never realized how much I pee in one day! Its also hard to be SO aware of every single thing you touch, or shouldnt touch. We couldn’t hug each other, and I was extremely stressed out about my mom getting sick and what if she dies and what if we have it too and what if Nick dies and I’m a widow again, and on and on and on, and I couldn’t get any comforting hugs from my boyfriend to relieve all the stress. Its a very strange way to exist.
We finally all got our results, and all of us tested negative. Whew! But my mom had covid-19, and my dad was in the house with her still. He can be forgetful sometimes, so even though we kept reminding him to wash his hands, disinfect , use the wipes, wear the mask, he would forget and in the moment, do something like hand my mom her cell phone when it was ringing. I would remind him that touching her things and then passing them to her is how it spreads, and he would say “Oh, right. I forgot.” My mom was doing okay for the first week or so of having covid, other than yelling at my dad every 15 minutes when he would touch her things. “Dave! You can’t touch that! You’ll get the virus!” She was also told she couldnt cook, and all food should come from an outside third party into the house. Nick and I started making single-serving meals for them (mostly Nick – I made one), and leaving them on the front steps just inside their house.
My mom did pretty well for awhile – mild aches, headaches, and fatigue. Then, about eight or nine days into it, she took a turn for the worse, all of a sudden. It happened so fast, within 24 hours, that it was easy to miss. My brother and I were staying out of their house because she was positive, so I was talking on the phone with her several times a day, making sure she was doing okay, and also checking on my dad to make sure he was social distancing from her as best as he could. He is diabetic and not in the best of health to begin with, so I was terrified of him getting covid because he’s also a smoker and he might not live through it, whereas my mom is a very healthy 75 yr old.
Anyway, on that particular day, I called her, and she sounded strange. Just not like herself. She was saying things that made zero sense. And she kept hanging up on me. I would call her right back and say “you just hung up on me.” She would say “Oh, thats weird. Why would I do that?”, and then she would do it again! Then she didnt recall doing it. This happened at least five or six times in a row. I texted her, and her text messages also made no sense. Just random words. I called my brother and asked him if he thought mom was acting strangely. He confirmed that yes, she was, and she had also hung up on him and texted things that were weird. So I called my dad and asked him if mom was acting weird, and he said in his humorous way, “No more than usual!” He seemed to think she was doing okay, as she was resting on the couch and watching TV. The weird texts continued, and I started to get mildly worried. I showed Nick my mom’s text messages, and then HE got me very worried! He lost his mom years ago to heart complications along with COPD, and he told me that this was the type of thing he would see often when his mom was not getting enough oxygen. When she wasnt getting enough oxygen to her brain, she would start saying things that didn’t make sense, things that were sort of delusional. He said: “this is very serious. We need to call an ambulance.”
We called an ambulance and had it sent to my parents house, which is about 5 minutes from our apartment. My mom was confused about why there was an ambulance there for her, because she said she felt fine. She started fighting with and yelling at my dad that she didnt want to go. She was yelling like a child: “No! I dont want to go!” (even now – she remembers NONE of this.) The EMS came into their house, asked my mom a few questions to see if she was “confused” or not (whats your name, who is the President, etc), and then they left. They didnt even do her vitals or any tests on her. They didnt take her to the ER. My boyfriend was very upset by this, and I called a widow friend who also happens to be a nurse who lives locally, and she was also furious that they didnt admit her. That night I went to bed and didnt sleep much at all.
The next morning I called my mom again, and she was much worse. Still not making sense, speaking in incomplete sentences, but this time she was in a lot of pain. My mom rarely complains about things, and she was moaning in pain and kept saying things like: “Oh, when will it be over? It hurts so much. I hate this! ” She was in tears, and it was heartbreaking. Even more heartbreaking was not being able to go over there and only talking to her on phone. My brother had to be extra careful because he has 2 young kids and didnt want to take any chances at bringing the virus home to them, so he was staying away as well. My mom was also having some major digestive issues, and was severely dehydrated. It almost seemed on the phone as if she was slipping in and out of consciousness. I kept calling and she was either in the bathroom or on her bed, lying in a pool of sweat and not aware of anything. Very scary. Also, more of her hanging up on me again and then having no memory of doing it two minutes later. My nurse friend suggested I call my mom’s primary care physician, tell her whats going on, and have her ORDER an ambulance ride to the ER – “non-refusal.” So after some trouble getting through to her doctors office, that is what I did, and called my dad to let him know there would be another ambulance coming to take mom. I told her doctor I wasnt hanging up the phone until I knew she would be admitted NOW. The ambulance came, and my mom was taken in and admitted.
The next few hours were horribly triggery for me and my sudden widow self. Ambulances, ER’s, not knowing what the hell is going on, all of it. We didnt hear from anyone at the hospital for hours. Nothing. And no visitors are allowed anywhere in the hospital, for anyone, but especially for covid patients. She was taken up to the “covid floor”, where she remained for the next 6 days. When we finally heard from someone, her nurse told me she was admitted with a temp of 102.9, covid-pneumonia, in desperate need of oxygen, and severe hydration that was so bad, it took them almost 2 hours to find a vein. The next thing the nurse said was this: “you most likely saved her life by your insistence and persistence on having her admitted. If you hadnt demanded it, she probably would have stayed lying in her bed in a pool of sweat, and lost consciousness permanently due to lack of oxygen. ” Im so thankful to Nick for insisting we call her an ambulance, and for my friend Allison for suggesting I go through mom’s doctor to have her order the non-refusal.
There was a lot of crying that night, and a lot of whatever my version of praying is. Hoping, I guess. I just kept saying to myself and the Universe and whoever else was listening: “Please don’t let her die. Please don’t have this virus kill her.” For the next few days, my brother and I took turns calling the hospital several times a day and speaking to her “covid team” of doctors and nurses, who had put her on a 5-day med protocol that is standard for covid patients who end up hospitalized. Things were still iffy and they kept using the phrase “day to day” and “things could change rapidly, so keep calling”, but in general, mom was starting to slowly become more stable. I cannot begin to say enough good things about all the nurses and doctors at Leominster Hospital U-Mass. They were patient, kind, and extremely informative with all of our many, many questions, both about our parents condition and about how to safely move about their house and be the temporary caregiver while trying to maintain social distance and not get covid myself.
Meanwhile, my dad was home alone. He was completely alone, and nobody was supposed to go into the house because mom’s covid germs were there, and because almost 2 weeks had passed since they were both tested, and dad was negative. Now HE was not acting like himself, and I was very concerned, actually more than convinced, that he now also had the virus. I called his doctor (same doctor as my mom) and set up an appointment to have him re-tested. I started a FB private group so I could add some nurse and doctor friends and update family and friends all in one place, because my days were now spent fielding texts and phone calls from frantic family members who were slowly finding out that mom has covid and is in the hospital, and that dad might have it too. I told those in my FB group that I NEEDED to be able to go in and out of their house to check on my dad frequently, because he was not doing well and I was very afraid he would be alone and fall , or pass out, or forget to take his diabetes meds, or something. I also knew that hospitals were so overwhelmed, they would do just about anything to keep people OUT unless they couldnt breathe or it was a true emergency. This is why it was so important to me to get my dad retested, because I figured they would take our eventual ambulance call for him more seriously if he was covid-positive. My dad did NOT want to be retested, because he hated that test the first time, but in the car we went – windows rolled down, no air-conditioning, one in front seat and one in the back, both with masks on – all suggestions from the covid team for minimal chance of him infecting me, if he was in fact positive. On the drive home, I bought dad a donut for “being a good boy” and getting his test done. He said it was “lousy.” Ha!
Friends began sending me N95 masks and surgical masks so I could be as protected as possible, and I began going into the house to check on dad, take care of the trash, light cleaning, check the mail, and feed the pets. My dad was not doing any of those things, because he suddenly was feeling very ill. We waited for test results, and he continued to get more weak, more irritable, and began vomiting up the very little food he did eat. On one particular day his sugar was so low that he was shaking, so I stood in the hallway and tried to get him to drink some apple juice. He threw the juice on the floor in my general direction and refused to drink it. Next I tried to get him to eat a piece of candy – a few Junior Mints. He ate one, and then refused to continue. He was still shaking and I wasnt about to leave him alone like that. Next, I tried his peanut butter crackers that he likes that come in a little package. He held one cracker in his hand and just sat there. I said “Eat it! Youre just holding it. You need to eat it! Im not leaving here until you eat a cracker!” He said: “Youre something else!”, and I shouted: “YOURE something else! Youre acting like an infant! Eat the fuckin’ cracker!!!” He ate the cracker.
At the house, I never used the bathroom, tried not to touch too many things, and didn’t go into my dad’s room at all, but instead stood just outside his door with mask on, and spoke to him from the hallway. It was hard, because I had to keep reminding him to keep his cell phone beside him so I could reach him and make sure he was okay. He does not text. He does not email. He has a flip phone. And just like mom, he also had challenges with his phone while sick with the virus. He kept telling me it was broken, but it just needed to be charged. He kept missing phone calls by us or by doctors, and all calls had to be forwarded to me instead. He just didnt really comprehend what was going on. It was like covid stole his mind, and his brain cells were mushy.
He was totally exhausted, he had that weird symptom where all food tastes like metal, he was irritable because he wasn’t eating, and he looked pale as a ghost. I kept giving him updates about mom, and he didnt seem interested at all. Totally unlike him. He just kept sitting in his recliner chair and barely moving at all. My routine was to go there daily, most times more than once, and try and get him to eat something. I also was doing all the groceries along with my brother, and I kept trying to buy things for my dad that werent good for him but that I thought would get him to eat. Donuts, Ring Dings, watermelon cubes, some of his favorites. Nothing worked. It all tasted awful to him. Friends and family were delivering flowers and gifts and cards to the house since mom couldnt receive anything in the hospital, and others were dropping off food. Nobody knew quite what to do, because with this virus, you cant VISIT the people who are sick. Its just awful. I was speaking with my mom on the phone at this point while she was in the hospital, and we were trying not to worry her too much about my dad, because we didnt want her worried about him while she was trying to get better. Each day, she was on less ans less oxygen, and doing well. Finally, after the protocol of meds were complete, she could be released and come home. We had a good friend come into the house with PPE and the hazmat suit and all that, and give the house a good cleaning for mom’s arrival home. Things needed disinfecting, and we put a plan in place for them to continue social distancing from each other for a period of time. We planned menus and Nick , my cousin Tabatha, our friend Nancy, and some others helped provide meals for them to avoid cross-contamination.
When it was time for mom to come home, they sent her home in an ambulance so that nobody would have to share the car with a covid-positive person. My mom’s return back home certainly wasn’t boring. About 24 hours after she got home, we got dad’s test results. Positive for covid-19. Now mom was back home, still had the virus, and still recovering , and now dad is not feeling well at all. About a day or so later, I think, he was starting to have blood in his urine. He is on cumidin, as well as his meds for diabetes, and he was getting his dosages mixed up because his mind was foggy with the covid. His doctor sent an ambulance for him as well, and off he went to the same covid floor and the doctors coming in with the spacesuits and the whole thing. My dad’s stay in the hospital was two days and nights. The blood was being caused by him taking way too much cumidin, so they had to regulate his meds, which takes a few days to do. They sent both of my parents home with a home nurse for a few days after their return home. In the end, they both were told to stay at home for 14 days since the positive diagnosis, plus another 7 days without any symptoms. A few days ago was finally the start of when they could start leaving the house again, of course still following all the precautions about mask-wearing and social distancing when in public.
My parents are both doing really well right now. A few days after my mom tested positive, my dad quit smoking. He has smoked cigarettes pretty much his whole life. He said he was scared to death that he would get it and end up on a ventilator if he was still smoking. Both of them have been extra careful since being back home, as has all of our family. I won’t get into the politics of this virus here, but I will just say when something like this happens in your own family, it’s a huge eye-opener in so many ways, about so many things. My parents recently were watching a segment on “Nightline” or one of those shows, and it was about an older couple in their 70’s, just like my parents, who both had covid-19, just like my parents, and both ended up hospitalized, just like my parents. This couple had been married for something like 55 years. When it became obvious to the nurses and doctors in their hospital that neither of them were going to survive the virus, they moved the couple into the same covid room and pushed their beds together so they could hold hands and share their last moments together before dying. They died holding each others hand, from complications of covid-19. My parents watched that segment, and my mom turned to my dad and said: “That very easily could have been us.”
We are incredibly thankful that it wasnt them, and that although this virus messed with them both pretty badly, they are now recovering and doing very well. This nightmare could have had a very different ending, and now that it looks as though we have lived through it, I can personally say that going through it minute by minute has given me incredible empathy for those who have it, those who are working in the medical field and are surrounded by it daily and risking their own lives, and all of those who love them.
This virus presents itself in so many different ways, and there is no one pattern or one set of symptoms for it. It attacks each person differently, and with new infrormation, how it is treated changes almost daily. I hope that this detailed account of the past month or so in our lives can help someone even a little bit, who is attempting to navigate their way through this incredibly frustrating mystery. Thanks for reading, and please check in on those you love, often. If something seems off, pay attention to your instincts about it, and demand that it be looked into. You could save someone’s life.