My covid Journey — Home — Unaware of the War Lurking to Destroy Me

Yay! I'm going home!. 

Little did we know by tomorrow, 

I'd be back in the hospital.

With joy and excitement Dan brought me home loaded with war weapons — 

a walker, 

potty chair, 

shower chair,

 a large and loud oxygen concentrator

 (used to pump oxygen into my lungs), 

many oxygen tanks of all shapes and sizes, 

and feet and more feet and more feet of oxygen tubes

 (used to trip us throughout the day and night). 

We were armed and ready for war! 

Doctors said the covid soldiers occupying my lungs 

would not be defeated for at least six months. 

The battle began before I ever entered my front door.

 I couldn't walk.

Heavier artillery was needed.

 We didn't realize and no one told us I might need a wheel chair. 

  Collapsed and dead weight on my front sidewalk,

 we stayed calm. 

I assured Dan

I could sit on my fanny and scoot backwards up the sidewalk.

 What a sight! 

Tough and determined, I made it to the three stairs. 

Turning over on hands and knees I crawled up three stairs

 into our beautiful, peaceful, healthy home. 

Now what? 

Our daughters arrived to help and see their much-missed mama.

 Joy and emotions overtook me and I lost my breath, literally. 

Do you know what it is like to not be able to breathe? 

It's the worst. 

Gasping for breath that isn't there even with a breathing tube.

 covid soldiers had me down and 

continued thrusting daggers into my pneumonia-filled lungs. 

Pain unbearable, 

somehow, someone got me to bed as we all wondered, 

Why didn't the doctor send or prescribe the pain meds I had at the hospital?

Early morning I could not get up. 

Gasping for breath, 

my oxygen levels plummeting, 

the pain in my chest unbearable, 

I screamed for an ambulance. 

Dear, dear EMT's. 

So loving,

 so self-sacrificing. 

Do you think they wanted to touch this covid patient? 

I'm sure not.

Were they remembering one of their own who had recently died of covid?

Were thoughts of their own danger in their minds?

 Perhaps. 

Did they want to infect themselves and the inside of their ambulance with covid soldiers? 

 No way. 

But, they did. 

They cared.

They loved.

  Thoughts of my needs prevailed.  

Off we went to the hospital 

less than 24 hours from the joy-filled ride home the day before.

This is not such a happy post.

 Yet, in the end, we won the battle. 

I'm almost off all oxygen, 

back to bike riding with my husband, 

breathing well on my own, 

the pain in my chest is gone. 

Still, covid soldiers remain in 40 percent of both lungs. 

Six months later, 

doctors say another six months of recovery. 

We wait and hope and do not lose heart.

"Therefore we do not lose heart. 

Though outwardly we are wasting away,

 yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 

For our light and momentary troubles 

are achieving for us an eternal glory that 

far outweighs them all.

 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, 

but on what is unseen. 

For what is seen is temporary, 

but what is unseen is eternal."

 2 Corinthians 4:16

Whatever is going on in your life, pray, trust Jesus, and don't give up!

My Journey with Covid-19 ← Avoiding Covid Like the Plague

Many have followed my on-going, five-month journey with Covid-19. Thank you for your prayers, love, and encouragement. God has done great things and I will be eternally thankful. 

 "Please write a book about Covid-19" is a frequent comment on my social media. I'll write another book if God leads me, and, so far, no leading from God. I suspect He is still teaching me all I need to learn from this covid journey. For now, I'll write a blog documenting my journey. 

Where do I begin? I'll begin at the beginning.

With chronic lymphocytic leukemia (a cancer of the immune system), a compromised immune system, and age 72, I am a sweet target for the covid bug. All the experts told us how to avoid this plague. Dan and I were so obedient. Since March 1, 2020, no church, no stores, no restaurants, one haircut. How did I get it? I'm not sure. 

Oh yes. We did celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary at a Cape Cod bed & breakfast. We were almost the only ones there. We had a blast avoiding the covid curse, laughing as we ate lobster on our laps in the car. But, I didn't get covid in Cape Cod. Hmmm. "I didn't Get Covid in Cape Cod" sounds like a country and western silly song. 

Except covid isn't silly. 

It's serious.

 It's awful. 

It's real.

 It's deadly.

Confident that we had survived our Cape Cod trip and learned covid travel tips along the way. Like stopping in the back woods and not into a gas station restroom, we planned a visit to South Dakota to celebrate our son's 40th birthday.  All packed and ready to go, Dan and I were excited to visit our son and his family. Anticipating our middle-of-the-night departure, we went to bed early on October 5, 2020. Instead of an alarm, I was awakened by Dan saying,

"I have a fever. You had better sleep in the guest room." 

Two days later he tested positive for covid-19. Four days later I tested positive. His sickness was relatively mild. So was mine, at first. But I progressed to coughing until my throat was raw, and my body knew nothing but extreme fatigue. 

Dan's brother read that people should check their oxygen levels. He gave us his oximeter. I had never heard of this medical device. Today, I sleep with it. At first my oxygen level was normal — in the 90's. As weeks went by, I did not get better. I became weaker and weaker. 

A call to my doctor gave instructions to "Go to the emergency room, call them ahead, let them know you have covid-19." The ER doctor took x-rays and checked my oxygen. All looked pretty normal for a covid patient. He sent us home informing us that the only people admitted to the hospital are those with low oxygen. "We can't admit everyone who comes in with covid because there is no treatment for covid unless your oxygen is below normal."    

Phew. We dodged that bullet. 

I thought I must be on the road to recovery. 

A week later, on October 30, my health continuing to decline,

 I used my oximeter and was surprised to see the reading — 

68. 

To my recollection, a week before, the 02 was in the normal range.

Another call to my doctor reaped urgent instructions to go to the ER immediately. Another x-ray and a check of my oxygen confirmed that covid-19 had worsened to covid pneumonia. 

Headed for isolation and no visitors, 

I kissed my love for what we both knew might be the very last time. 

My prognosis was grim.

 But God. 

Funny, what you think about in isolation. I laughed that for our very last kiss — maybe ever — we wore masks!  Fortunately, we continue to have many kisses — without a mask, but with an oxygen tube descending from my nose. That's for a future blog. 

The wonderful peace that passes all understanding enveloped me as the wheels of my bed carried me through hospital corridors into isolation. 

Alone. 

But not alone. 

Jesus held me. 

I felt the Holy Spirit and God's angels surround me with His love and care. 

Wow! 

One of those God moments you never want to miss.

There was no anxiety, as the world might expect.

Instead

Scriptures filled my mind.

"I am with you always."

"Never will I leave you."

"I will fight for you. 

You need only to be still."

And the verse of hope God spoke to my heart for the next three and one-half weeks in isolation:

"But I have raised you up for this very purpose, 

that I might show you My power and 

that My Name might be proclaimed in all the earth."

 Exodus 9:16

No matter what happens in life, we need never fear. There is always a "But God . . . "  

As the Holy Spirit leads, stay tuned for more blogs of my covid journey. Thanks for sharing these days with me.

Splashes of Serenity prayed for you. That wonderful serenity that comes from a heart and mind fixed on Jesus.