My husband, Timothy Morgan, was a loving passionate Christian family man who served in the U.S Air Force. When we met, he had 10% disability rating from Veterans Administration and was receiving minimal benefits. Over the years, he was re-assessed receiving increases for deterioration of his injured knees to a total of 20% and a few years ago to 40% with the addition of PTSD. VA seemed to refuse to do anything for his ankle and due to miscommunication/misinformation from an advocacy group, we pursued treatment of his ankle on our own when he had not choice. He was unable to secure full-time employment after that surgery which was performed in July, 2007. VA did help him obtain a bachelor degree, but was only able to to obtain about 5 or 6 interviews over the course of 3-4 years before he became too discouraged to continue trying. During this time, we did attempt a home-based business of Tim doing hand-tooled and hand-sewn leather goods, for several years with only one year resulting in profit. He underwent carpal tunnel release on both wrists with the right one being a failure even after second attempt; he was right-handed. (I have learned over the past year that the problem may have actually been related to conditions in the elbows or shoulders and neck.) We continued the business for a short time after the third carpal tunnel release procedure, but then in 2018 decided to give up on it as we could no longer afford to keep it going. In June 2019, he suffered a stroke which took the left half of his field of sight and resulted in the state of Iowa revoking his driver’s license. This deprived him of most of his independence and some of his ability to care for me and our teenagers. Following the stroke, his level of paranoia and anxiety (likely related to PTSD) began increasing. (The COVID pandemic just added to the paranoia aspect; getting sick did not scare him.)
Towards the end of July, beginning of August in 2021, my family had cold/allergy symptoms. Since we all are prone to sinus issues and had just finished our county fair and all of the dust/allergens that goes along with that, we were not concerned. (Our teenagers are active in 4-H and I am a club leader.) None of us are the type to go to the doctor for a sniffle. About mid-day on Sunday, August 8, 2021, my husband decided that we should call an after-hours nurse for advice. I had asked him a time or two prior to that day if he wanted me to get an appointment and take him to a doctor. He declined, didn’t think he was that bad.
Where we live, we have no choice of where an ambulance would transport us as it would come from the hospital that is 10 miles away and we are not confident in their care. If we are about two miles south of our town, we can go to a different facility. He thought he could make it to our vehicle and to the VA hospital located an hour away, so we got him in our auto and left for Des Moines. (Teenagers stayed home.) I took a route that allowed us opportunities to stop at other hospitals. After passing the first of these options, my husband let me know that we should stop before Des Moines, so we went to the next option which is located in Ames.
We were met at the door by someone with a wheelchair who would not allow me to help transfer him into the chair and then rushed him into the ER. I was allowed to be in the ER with him. His oxygen saturation on room air, I was told, was 40%. When the COVID test came back positive, I was told that I should leave, but since I had already been allowed to be in the ER with him, they would let me stay until he was taken to ICU. I was never allowed to kiss him…
From that point, for the next 8 days, we only had text messaging to include sending photos and attempted video chat a couple of times. We only had this because I insisted he keep his cell phone with him and the hospital staff agreed; he wanted me to bring it home with me. I am very glad that he did have his cell phone as a couple of times he contacted me to get help. He told me that he had pushed the call button but was not getting a response. I was not there, so I do not know how long he waited before calling me. One of those times, though, I called the nurses’ station and no one answered. So, I called the main line and asked them to get help to my husband in the ICU. It took several minutes, but I did get connected to someone in the ICU and was told that someone was finally in with my husband or that they would get someone to check on him. (This was over a year ago, so I don’t remember for sure.)
I had access to his online medical records, so I monitored his test results and stats. For the first couple of days, his oxygen levels improved then they dropped a little and leveled off. I was told that he would never be able to leave the hospital because of the level of oxygen he required and the equipment that was required to provide it. (On Monday, August 9, 2021, our teenagers and I took saliva tests provided by our county health department and sent them out. The kids’ returned positive. My test took an extra day for some reason and came back negative despite having the exact same symptoms as the kids. My employer wanted me to be tested on Wednesday, so I took a rapid test in a different county with negative results, again. Following phone discussion with our county health, I took another saliva test which was also negative.)
By Monday, August 16, 2021, I could not take it anymore and had an emotional breakdown while talking with my husband’s nurse that day. She transferred me to her manager so I could explain our entire situation. After going through everything, how I was his caregiver including helping hospital staff whenever he had been inpatient, he was afraid of being alone in a facility (especially dying in that situation), that we had not finalized last will and testament, that I was usually able to keep him calm or get him to calm down when anxiety was taking over, etc., she told me that she would see what she could do about allowing me to be able to visit. She called me back yet that afternoon and told me not only that I could visit but that they WANTED me to come but I had to agree to strict rules.
I could not stop anywhere between our house and the hospital whether going there or coming home. I had to wear a gown, mask, face shield, and gloves the entire time while in his room. (So, I could not kiss him, nor touch him with my bare hands.) If I left his room, I had to leave the hospital, so I was required to stay in his room until I was ready to leave for the day. (Fortunately, I was able to have a lunch tray delivered to his room and there was a toilet behind a curtain that I could use.)
I took our laptop computer with me the next day, Tuesday, August 17, 2021. We chatted some and I made myself go over his last will and testament with him. We had it ready, but they could not find a notary that afternoon. I guess that was OK since it gave me another day with my husband. I returned the next day, Wednesday, August 18, 2021. I noticed right away that he was not as alert as the day before. It seemed that he had deteriorated quite a bit overnight. It was about mid-day before a notary came and asked to have the will updated appropriately for the signatures that were required. Then, I had to email it to the nurse manager to be printed, again. Then, the notary came back, looked over his will, handed it to me, watched from outside the closed door while he initialed and signed it. I took the will back to the notary who then signed it and handed me her book to have signed and handed back to her. The signed will was returned to me.
About 15 minutes later, my husband roused up, and removed the hose from his mask. While pushing the call button, I asked him what was wrong (he was claustrophobic, so thought the mask may have scared him while sleeping). He told me, “I’m dying.” right before I put the hose back on the mask. I asked, “so, you are done?” and he nodded. When the nurse assistant came in, I let her know and she immediately went to tell his nurse. His nurse came to the door a few minutes later to confirm. I remember being stunned just how quickly they started changing his course of care, especially after I confirmed via phone with a doctor. His feeding tube was removed from his nose. As soon as they could, they started administering medicines to keep him calm and ease pain while they decreased his oxygen. I did have time to place phone calls to each of his adult children so they could tell him whatever they wanted to even though he already did not have the strength to talk to them and then a phone call to our home to provide the same opportunity for our two teenagers. (Sadly, our youngest did not understand what was happening until after I got home and he went with me to get take out for supper and I said something that made him realize that his dad had died before I came home from the hospital that day.) He died a bit after 17:30 on August 18, 2021 which was the 10th birthday for our grandson and sweet-16 birthday for our twin nieces.
Yes, we have memories, pictures, rare video or audio clips, but we will forever be deprived of new memories, humorous moments, loving moments, encouragement, affection, prayers, and so much more.
I did request his medical records from the hospital and received a disk, but have not taken the time to see exactly what I got. I am hoping the x-rays of his lungs are included.
These are just a few of the cases archived by our COVID-19 Humanity Betrayal Memory Project, and there are more being reported by survivors and families of victims every day. If you would like to help with this project, please consider becoming part of the Task Citizens Force Against Instutional Capture And Crimes Against Humanity, a FormerFedsGroup Freedom Foundation mission.