I Survived COVID19

In the early morning of March 29th,  I laid on the couch contemplating what I should do next...my lungs were heavy, as I managed shallow, rapid breathing, fever raged through my body and I felt as if I was fading away...I was incredibly dizzy, tired and so weak.  Unable to climb the stairs, my husband had taken his phone with him to bed earlier and told me to call him if I needed anything. It only took an hour before I called him and asked him to come sit with me on the couch. I was afraid that if I closed my eyes I wouldn't wake up. Soon after, a coughing fit started and I couldn't catch my breath. Coughing fits continued off and on for about 20 minutes. I peed my pants. I could barely speak because I couldn't breathe. I remember looking at my husband and telling him, "I need to go to the hospital. We need to call 911." The ambulance came, my oxygen level was 82. The EMT placed an oxygen mask over my face.  I never realized just how bad I was feeling until that moment, the oxygen was heavenly and for the first time in days, I felt as if I could breathe. As I was transported to the ER, the EMT called ahead to the hospital, reading off my vitals. He told me not to be surprised if they didn't admit me...

As we entered the hospital, a nurse took my temperature with one of those no-touch thermometer guns. 98.7... but 10 minutes later when my nurse came into my room and took my temperature, in a spot that is said to be much more accurate, it was 103.7. She gave me Tylenol and I prayed for the pain to go away. My face was covered in a hot, red rash. I was burning up. The nurse came back and stuck the swab up my nose to test for COVID19. I would find out a month later that I tested positive.  I stared at the wall trying to control my breathing until the nurse returned to take me for a CT scan. Laying in the tube, my arms stretched above my head, the technician tells me to take a deep breath and scolds me when I cough every time I inhale.  She urges me to stay still. I want to yell at her that I can't take deep breaths... I'm choking to death is all I can think.  I am relieved when the test is done and I can return to my room to stare numbly at the wall. I am all alone. My head aches and I need the pain to go away!

20 minutes later the doctor slid my door open, sticking his head in the room, never entering completely..."You are very sick," he says. He explains that both of my lungs were full of fluid and debris, something called, "ground glass opacity," common in patients with COVID19. I was suffering from Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome{ARDS} and he explained that he couldn't wait even one day to observe me, he had consulted other doctors and they all agreed that I needed to be admitted and intubated immediately. It was our only chance to give my body a shot at beating the virus and keeping me alive.  I asked the doctor to call my husband to let him know what was happening. I felt oddly calm and clear headed.

Within minutes, my nurse returned and pushed my bed through the long, dimly lit hallways and onto the elevator. I was being moved to the CCU. There were 4 women and 2 men standing in the hall waiting for me. The tallest nurse told the others that she would prep me and she pushed my bed into the plain room. All I noticed were the stained, warped ceiling tiles up above me and the crooked crucifix on the wall opposite me...that's it. Nothing else. A tear slides down my cheek as I think of Andrew, Chloe, Lindsey and John. I'm not ready to leave them. I think how awful it would be if I don't live and I have to leave them. The pain is so immense ...It nearly takes all of my breath away...the thought that I would never see them again. I am scared, not for me, but for them. I don't want the kids to feel the pain of losing their mom and John having to lose his wife.

I stared at the cross on the wall and prayed silently to God, thanking him for all that he had given me and asking him to watch over me and my family. I prayed for the doctors to heal me and I promised him I would do better if given the chance. I prayed he'd give us all the strength we needed to survive this.

Finally, I found my voice and said to the group that had assembled in my room, "You can't let me die. I didn't get to say goodbye." In my head I wondered if my family knows how much I love them  and how hard I am willing to fight to get back to them. I wondered if they knew that every happy memory in my life involved them. I hoped they did. I hear a woman's voice say, "We're going to fight hard for you. We'll do all we can. We'll do our best for you." Someone squeezed my right hand.

The doctor stood at the head of the bed. She explained to me what was happening. I would be given medicine to make me sleep and they would insert the tube when they were sure that I wouldn't feel pain. She asked me my weight and then started saying numbers and directing people what to do.  A nurse to the left of me turned on the oxygen, air blasted from somewhere but I couldn't  see anything. The nurse on my right held my hand and more tears slid down my cheeks. The needle was placed in my right arm and as I feel myself drift off, I squeeze the nurses hand...my way of saying thank you for not leaving my side. 

I spent 4 days on a ventilator in the ICU at Mercy Hospital in Buffalo. I was then transferred(still intubated) to the ICU at St. Joe's Medical Center. They had turned St. Joe's into the COVID19 treatment facility. I spent a total of 13 days on a ventilator, 2 additional days in the ICU while I recovered and 3 days in a hospital room before I was released to the St. Joe's Acute Rehab Center- for COVID19 patients. I spent a week in rehab and was finally released to go home with my family just a few days short of a month after I was taken to the hospital. 

I know I beat the odds. I know it was a miracle and that all of the people praying feverishly over me had everything to do with my being alive today.  I am so incredibly grateful for the amazing doctors, nurses, PAs, techs, and therapists who worked so hard and risked so much in order to save my life.