COVID-19 Humanity Betrayal ㅤ Memory Project

Started a new job on August 5th, 2021.  As always, upon entering a new work environment, I don’t have the natural immunity to all the germs, and I get sick.  This job was no different. On Saturday September 11, 2021, I started feeling under the weather.  The following Sunday, I knew I had the job crud, and ended up missing a couple days of work.  I started feeling better and returned to work for a few days, and then started feeling worse.

This went on for three (3) weeks, and about October 1st, I started feeling very tired and didn’t get out of bed for almost a week.  I went to the hospital on 10-7-21, and of course was diagnosed with the Covid pneumonia.  I had extremely low O2 levels and felt delirious.  A wet-behind-the-ears doctor came in and manhandled a mask on my face, and gave me the lecture about having the Covid, and how I was going to die in three (3) days if they didn’t start a new drug treatment.

I have no recollection of authorizing the E.U. drugs that were given to me, or for that matter, the insulin I was given while not being a diabetic.  I stayed in a semiconscious state for several days, but on October 14th I called family members and complained about a terrible pain in stomach that continued until October 16th when I woke up in extreme pain which the staff ignored.

Later on in the morning, I asked for help using a commode, and after my movement the staff discovered a large amount of  black tarry stool, which was an indication I was bleeding.  They sedated and intubated me and determined that I had multiple bleeding ulcers in my stomach that had opened up; most likely due to the blood thinners I had been receiving since my admission.

While waiting for my wife to okay the surgery, my blood pressure dropped so low that my heart stopped twice.  I’m sure my wife enjoyed watching my nearly lifeless body receive CPR as she stood in the room and explained the surgical procedure. I woke up after the vent was removed and was very disoriented and confused.

For almost two (2) days, no one disclosed what had happened to me or why I was so disconnected until a nurse came in and said how glad he was that I had survived the ordeal, and described what he had seen during my crash.  With a drug induced blurred mind, I became paranoid and was convicted that the treatment I was receiving was not helping me, but instead harming me.

This coupled with the lack of bedside manner from Dr. Cuesta, drove me to sign myself out of the hospital against medical advice on October 23rd.  At this time, I could not walk or stand on my own, and still required oxygen to survive.  The Dr. refused to provide a prescription for oxygen for home use, so I checked out, and went home to die.

We were able to borrow an older oxygen generator from a friend, but after only 24 hours it started failing.  My wife tried everything she could think of to beg, borrow or steal a new unit, but without a prescription, no one would sell her one.

Thirty-two hours after discharge, I fell and was unable to get myself back into the wheelchair.  I asked my wife to please let me go [die], I was so tired of the pain and uncertainty that I just wanted to go, but she said I couldn’t and called EMS, and back to the hospital I went on October 25th.  Upon arrival, I was “tested” and found not positive for the Covid and readmitted, but not back into the Covid ward.

I remained in the hospital in ICU until November 7th when I was released to rehab where I spent the next 10 days regaining my strength.  I returned home on November 17, 2021.  I never thought I would sleep in my own bed again or see my dogs just a few weeks earlier.

I continued to recover physically, but struggled with the simplest of tasks.  I found employment, but was unable to do even a portion of the work related tasks that I had been able to do just a few months earlier. In a year’s time, I had been fired from three (3) jobs for non-performance, not because I was lacking the skills to perform the required tasks, but because I was unable to remember how to do them.

I’m 18 months out from the onset of my illness, and I struggle every day.  I find little to no joy in life anymore.  I lost interest in things I’ve loved all my life.  I won’t lie, I hurt, am angry and have little to no trust in people today.  I have terminated all my healthcare as I can’t trust doctors anymore.  All I want is my old life back, but I know it’s gone and will probably never come back.

Thanks for letting me tell you a little bit about my Covid horror.