Monday 1/3/2022 – call into family physician looking for alternative treatment – monoclonal antibodies, something – no call back from his family physician’s office
Tuesday 1/4/2022 – call into family physician looking for alternative treatment – monoclonal antibodies, something – return call later from office, doctor not available – person on the phone from doctor’s office was basically talking at Greg. Greg asked them to check about what they could do – he was looking for an appointment. Doctor’s office called again several hours later. Nothing different than earlier call. He was still hoping for an appointment or alternative options.
Wednesday 1/5/2022 – I called his family physician’s office today and explained the situation. Explained what Greg was looking for and asked for alternative options. We knew that his doctor had arranged for a friend of ours to get monoclonal antibodies previously. I never did receive a call back from the doctor’s office. (Ironically, after Greg had been admitted to the hospital on 1/5/22, I did retrieve a voicemail from Greg’s cell phone from his doctor’s office, advising an appointment had been made for him for Thursday morning, 1/6/2022. I wasn’t able to retrieve this message until I was allowed to go to the hospital to see Greg, a week later. Little too late by then.)
We didn’t know what else to do, so we reluctantly decided Greg should go to the emergency room at doylestown hospital (they don’t deserve upper case letters). This would be the last time we would see him walking. My older daughter and I were also pretty sick, so my younger daughter went into the ER waiting room with Greg, but since we were all sick, she wasn’t allowed to stay, and had to leave Greg there alone. Greg was very sick and disoriented. She kept calling him on his cell phone, trying to make sure he was taken back into the ER while she sat in her car out in the parking lot, upset that he had to be there by himself while he was so disoriented. She was beside herself.
I received a call from ER Dr. Goodyear who advised Greg was going to be admitted and that they were giving him Remdesivir and were going to admit Greg to the ICU. I asked the doctor about any alternative treatments other than Remdesivir and was advised that no, that was their protocol.
8pm call from Greg’s night nurse advising Greg is supposedly resting, oxygen is 80-90 (wide range).
Thursday 1/6/2022 – Texted Greg around 10am asking if his phone was on – no response.
Heard from his ICU doctor of the day and also a clinical trial coordinator – they want to set Greg up for a trial of Remdesivir and also another drug or placebo. He would receive 2 infusions. Trying to get in touch with Greg to see what HE wants to do about trial. Calling nurses’ station and speaking to his nasty nurse for the day (Angie) who was being a bit of a jerk about letting me talk to Greg. She nastily stated that the doctors have called me and told me how he’s doing today, haven’t they? Wanted to know if I could be more specific as to my questions. Um, I’d like to know how he’s doing from him and to talk to him. Per Angie, he’s on antibiotics, he sat in the chair today and took some steps on his own. Angie claims Greg doesn’t want to talk and that I’ll have to make the decision about the clinical trial. Angie says it could take days/weeks for him to get better. (I’m getting the feeling I have a lot of nerve for asking about my husband and his condition.)
At some point, Greg called and spoke with our older daughter. He told her he’s going to be in the hospital for at least another day and it’s hard to talk.
6:30pm spoke with Greg who says he’s still of out of it, but doing a tiny bit better and “able to have a coherent thought.” Without any prompting from me, Greg tells me that today’s nurse Angie is a “bitch”. This is not how he typically describes a woman. This is very rare. Wow, you made yourself some friends today, Angie! Not.
Friday 1/7/2022 – Text from Greg around 10:45am asking how we’re doing and stating he really misses us. He’s going to try to spend most of today in the chair in his room which he said will hopefully clear up his breathing. I had heard from his ICU doctor earlier who advised Greg’s oxygen was at 93%. Per ICU doctor, Greg is on blood thinners, antibiotics and a high flow mask and they’ll try to have him sit in the chair as much as possible today.
Greg texted again about 6:40pm stating he had eaten some solid foods today and could actually taste something. Said he was feeling 50% physically, 20% mentally. Texted he was really happy that I was not going through this. (OMG, like a knife to my heart.)
Saturday 1/8/2022 – sent Greg a text at 1pm – no response. Sent Greg another text at 3pm – he responded that it wasn’t his greatest day and sent a selfie with a stupid mask covering a lot of his face. This mask has some kind of padding at the forehead area, so Greg wasn’t able to wear his glasses.
Heard from ICU doctor who advised Greg will probably have a CT to check for clots. Oxygen in 80s. Greg does better sitting in a chair rather than when he stands up.
Sunday 1/9/2022 – sent Greg a text at 11:30am – no response. Sent Greg a text at 8:25pm checking on him – no response.
9:45pm – Got our first experience with a condescending nurse practitioner Katie F. After not hearing much of anything too negative today, received a call from doom and gloom nurse practitioner Katie F. who is advising Greg has blood clots and will need to have emergency surgery. We were able to speak to Greg by facetime and condescending Katie was making comments over facetime and is advising that Greg will probably have to have his leg amputated (!!!!) – ends up making my 6’4”, 320 lbs husband cry at one point. (Oh, Katie, if I could just reach through the phone.) Sends all of us at home into a tailspin because of the obnoxious way she’s speaking and the uncaring way she’s delivering this news. Condescending Katie will put in a call to the vascular surgeon to find out about the surgery.
11:00pm – I hear from vascular surgeon who wants to hold off on surgery for now because there’s doplar evidence of blood flow to Greg’s foot and Greg also has feeling in his foot. Doctor did discuss this with Greg. Doctor wants to keep Greg on blood thinners and just keep monitoring for now. (What a horrible roller coaster ride of emotions. Too bad you weren’t able to talk the doctor into amputating my husband’s leg, you ghoul Katie. Thanks, Katie.)
Monday 1/10/2022 – received text from Greg at 9:10am saying sorry I have to deal with this, he only has a little energy and just wanted to say “I love you.” Told him I’d come carry him out if need be. (Wish I had.)
Group text to me and our daughters from Greg saying he was able to trade his mask for a more comfortable one and he felt he was breathing better.
Tuesday 1/11/2022 – text to Greg at 9:15 am – no response. Greg texted at 1:30pm stating he was feeling about the same and a little better. He is out of bed and in the chair and hopes to call later. Tried to facetime Greg about 6:50pm. Greg didn’t answer, but texted back he was going to try to facetime shortly after 7pm and that he’d only be able to talk for a minute or two. 8:35pm Greg texts selfie showing he’s been able to wear a lighter mask for 2 hrs which he felt was a little positive news.
Wednesday 1/12/2022 – texted Greg at 9:25am – no response. Tried facetiming Greg (no response) and then texted Greg at 11:10am – no response.
Heard from ICU doctor of the day who stated “Craig” is eating and his oxygen is the same, not worse. They will continue to monitor and ‘we will take this 1 day at a time.’
Texted Greg again at 2:30pm after trying to facetime him – no response. Tried to facetime Greg and then texted him at 7:30pm – no response. !
9:55pm – speaking to Greg’s ICU night nurse, Greg has been moved out of a negative pressure room, but is still in the ICU. Oxygen is about 94-96%. Greg is back to a high flow mask and that Greg had a rough, tiring day. I can go to visit Greg tomorrow. Yay!
Thursday 1/13/2022 – finally able to see Greg today. Get to his room and he’s sleeping. He is wearing only a sheet (the man radiates heat). They do have some type of cooling pad/mat on his bed with a machine for it near the end of the bed. His ICU day nurse says he had a rough night. Observed oxygen 95%.
Later on he woke up and when he saw me he said, “what a wonderful surprise!”
Notice his cell phone is kept on a bedside table, not right next to him. Interesting.
I was able to stay until after 10pm.
Interesting note, today he is being given some type of protein drink, similar to Ensure. Didn’t see him having any solid food, no lunch tray and no dinner tray. He’s having a tough time drinking the protein drink or just water because he has to have the mask off and wants it back on right away. He is apparently anxious and wakes up from sleeping in a panic because of the mask, so they are giving him Ativan/Lorazepam for anxiety.
Friday 1/14/2022 – I was at the hospital visiting again from the morning to 7pm. Greg’s ICU day nurse advised me that Greg had a rough night. Greg was having a tough morning, sometimes startling himself and needing to pull the mask from his face, like he was gasping for air. I saw this happen quite a few times while I was there. His oxygen was better yesterday, today it’s fluctuating. He was still wearing only a sheet.
While I was there, Greg started to cough and there were 2 nurses in the room, helping him – Greg hacked out a massive 3 inch piece of phlegm about 4:20pm. They looked at it and put it in the bathroom for a little bit. (I should have taken a picture, but didn’t. Hindsight.) The nurses told Greg it looked like he had coughed up a mouse. Greg said it felt like he coughed up a cat. 10 minutes later, Greg started coughing again and coughed up another hunk of phlegm (or whatever it was) which wasn’t quite as big as the last one. Nurses told him that would help him breathe better.
Of note, here was another protein drink offered to him, but Greg wasn’t very interested in drinking it, only trying very small amounts at a time. I don’t remember ever seeing a lunch tray or a dinner tray for him that day either. Visitors were allowed to switch at 7pm. My older daughter came in and stayed with her dad. I went home and was there for maybe an hour when our older daughter called, crying, because (guess who) condescending Katie was at it again. Sent my daughter, who is not a shrinking violet and was preparing to be a police officer, into a tailspin because Katie was insisting my younger daughter and I needed to come to the hospital because they need to intubate/put Greg on a vent suddenly. (??)
Katie told my older daughter to call me, but didn’t want her to make the call out in the hallway. My daughter really didn’t want to be saying what she had to say in front of her dad. Katie was being quite a bully. My younger daughter and I get there and Kate starts her ‘way’ of explaining things – as if she’s talking to a moron. I let Katie know that she has a terrible bedside manner and that I don’t appreciate the way she speaks to us since we don’t speak to her that way. I also told her I hadn’t appreciated that she was seeming to be trying to joke around and got my husband upset the previous week regarding emergency surgery. My younger daughter also tries to nicely explain to Katie that she doesn’t need to speak to us the way she does. Katie has zero empathy, doesn’t take any responsibility for acting the way she does and keeps repeating the same thing to my younger daughter, which is, “well I’m sorry you feel that way.” (It’s a shame you speak that way, Katie and I’m sorry you completely missed the classes on bedside manner while you were in nursing school.)
Apparently, Greg’s saturation levels were low and they were afraid he could have a cardiac event. We discussed it as a family and we were under the impression that this would give Greg’s lungs a chance to rest. We were also given the impression he wouldn’t be on the vent but for a short period of time. Greg agreed. What a massive mistake that was. This would be the last time he was able to talk with us.
We had to wait in the ICU waiting room while they put Greg on a vent. Almost 11pm in ICU waiting room, waiting to be able to see Greg.
Saturday 1/15/2022 – At 12:25am, I sent an email to the trial study coordinator, advising her to remove Greg from the study because he would no longer be participating. (It had been my understanding that this study was to hopefully prevent Greg from having to go on a ventilator.)
It was almost 1am when I’m finally able to go back to Greg’s room. (I had walked back a little earlier, but they weren’t ready for me to come back yet. Not sure why. Greg was just lying in the bed and his night nurse and another person were just talking.)
So at 1am, standing next to his bed and looking down at my big guy Greg, sedated, motionless, with his wrists strapped down, I stood there silently and felt white, hot rage. I see there were now additional medicine pumps with propofol and fentanyl through my tears of rage. Guess I couldn’t come back until they had the sedation and paralytics just right. My husband was an exceptionally strong man who had tree trunks for arms. Somehow, it seems that if he didn’t have the sedation and paralytics coursing through him, he would have easily snapped the wrist restraints. All I can think is, what have I done?
I went home to not get any sleep and then we were back at 11:30am to visit – apparently things aren’t looking good.
Sunday 1/16/2022 – Visiting Greg today. Today’s doctor says things aren’t looking good and wants to know what they are to do if Greg codes. Well, I’d say you should try to revive him, doc. Then the nephrologist came in and advised dialysis is needed because Greg’s kidneys aren’t functioning. Greg had a 3 hour dialysis which removed 4lbs of fluid. Oxygen was good and bp was good.
Monday 1/17/2022 – Visiting Greg today, there was talk of needing to adjust his vent settings, if “he could tolerate it.” 3 hour dialysis again today. Heart rate was good until the end of dialysis then it went wonky and his oxygen was a little lower. They did an ultrasound of Greg’s right arm and put a PICC line in his arm. Today’s jerk doctor, Dr. Tran, commented how they “didn’t think he’d make it over the weekend.” Felt as if she was talking “at” me the entire time.
Tuesday 1/18/2022 – Visiting Greg and per Dr. Tran, things are going downhill. I can also see his oxygen level is getting worse. They were going to try continual dialysis today. Greg’s numbers dropping was also discussed. A decision might have to be reached very soon. Started to get Greg set up for continual dialysis. I had to go to the waiting room and it took forever for them to set up dialysis. I was finally able to come back to Greg’s room and sit with him. His stats were continuing to drop. We were going to have to make the decision to take him off of life support and let him go. I decided that if we were going to have to let him go, the dialysis should be discontinued.
In the afternoon, Greg received multiple calls from people who couldn’t be there and we would hold up a cell phone to his ear so that people could say goodbye to him.
Later that evening, my daughters and I were in the room, spending time with Greg. We all spoke with him and then my younger daughter played Steven Curtis Chapman’s ‘Cinderella’ song on her phone which was the song she had wanted to dance to with her dad whenever she eventually got married. She swayed by Greg’s bed, holding his hand, and sang quietly. Next, my older daughter did the same, playing ‘Butterfly Kisses’ by Bob Carlisle. Heart wrenching.
When it was time to disconnect the ventilator, it sounded like Greg was gasping for air for a bit and it upset us very much. What a traumatic thing for Greg and us to go through.
I can’t tell you how many times I second-guessed myself.
How horrible that this hospital murdered my daughters’ dad and robbed them of their future with him, all because of their murderous hospital protocol and the use of Rem-death-avir.
How horrible that this hospital murdered my 56 year old husband, my soulmate, my best friend, my protector, my defender. At the time of his death, we had been together for 35 years, 3 months and 8 days. We had been married for 31 years, 2 months and 22 days.
We were supposed to grow old together. He was supposed to walk our daughters down the aisle and dance with them at their weddings. We were supposed to be grandparents together. While he was in the hospital and I was visiting, I constantly told Greg that I loved him, I held his hand, I let him know whenever I was leaving the room for a minute, I let him know whenever I was going to be sitting further away in the room, but that I was there with him. I told him I was so sorry. I tried so hard while he was in the hospital to hold my head high, be positive and move through the situation, all the while expecting a far better result. I was trying to be brave for my daughters.
This horrible, deadly hospital protocol must be stopped.
Since he died, the grief and stress caused me to have health problems and eventually having to be hospitalized. (NOT at the same hospital that murdered him.) Eleven months after his death, I had lost 60-70 lbs and was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation and heart failure. This has been very difficult for our daughters. This has been very difficult for his sisters. This has been very difficult for his friends and his coworkers. He was loved and respected by anyone who knew him, he was a bonus dad to many, and an inspiration and role model to many more. He was our gentle giant. We are lost without him.
I was not happy to have found myself in this position of being a widow and thought I was all alone with what happened to my husband, but fortunately, I learned of a group of widows and widowers who were being awakened to what had actually happened to our spouses. We unfortunately have found ourselves to be members of this club, but fortunately we now know we’re not alone in this fight and our numbers are growing.