Two Covid Journeys — Miles Apart

My oncologist encouraged me to write my covid journey. "People need to read what happened from the  point of view of someone who had and survived severe covid. It's history that needs to be told" he said. 

I've been unable to write a book of my experience. The closeness of God too precious and the pain of this disease to raw to find words. 

Penelope Childers wrote the book my doctor hoped to read: A Window of Hope: How We Survived COVID-19. 

https://www.amazon.com/Window-Hope-How-Survived-COVID-19/dp/B0BFV9G4LM/ref=sr_1_1?crid=OJM4QTW6322D&keywords=A+Window+of+Hope&qid=1682599894&s=books&sprefix=a+window+of+hope%2Cstripbooks%2C110&sr=1-1

Here's my amazon review of A Window of Hope: 

"The history, the heartbreak, the hope of a global pandemic that brought both unity and division. Penelope Childers takes us into her heart of peace as she determines to survive covid-19 from her ICU hospital room. Her daughter, Megan Pascual, writes of the frustration and horror in the hearts of family shut off on the other side of the hospital walls. A Window of Hope is a brilliant account of the facts and the feelings of life during the covid-19 pandemic."

Penelope's story and mine are similar, but different. We are close to the same age and suffered with covid at the same time. She was in ICU in a big-city California hospital. My ICU bed was in a small hospital (some would call rural) upstate New York. I was in a pleasant isolation room on the covid floor where I watched the sun come up every morning. Penny began her hospital journey in a curtained cubicle with other covid patients nearby. I brushed my teeth daily. Health care workers washed my hair and provided water and soap and lotion for me to take care of my daily needs. Penelope's teeth were not brushed for weeks. Nor was she able to bathe. Yikes!  Penny's husband and daughter were present through a window. Three stories up and unable to walk, I communicated with my family through facebook. Penny suffered severe constipation. I did not. Penny went to rehab. I went home. 

Hospitals treated covid patients differently, but always with great care and comfort. Dear healthcare workers did their best with this mystery disease, as they tried to sort the mess of covid attacking each patient in a variety of symptoms, side effects, and sicknesses. covid survivors live with heart, lung, and brain damage, while others do not.   

 Although separated by miles and different symptoms, 

One truth was sure.

Penny and I both experienced the overwhelming presence and peace of our loving Jesus. 

God consumed us as He healed us. 

"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever"

Hebrews 13:8

May His presence bring you a splash of serenity every moment of your life,

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 Covid Journey — The Big Guns Come Out

My doctors put out the big guns.

I am on an infusion marathon to fight covid-19.

IV's in both arms drip life and healing into my body.

We hope and we pray.

The biggest gun of all arrived.

Convalescent Plasma.

The bag above, 

filled with someone's plasma,

dripped life into my decaying body.

Drip.

Drip. 

Drip.

I stared at that yellow bag, 

knowing it was my last hope. 

There were no other drugs to give. 

  I cried  

All night. 

I couldn't stop crying.

    

My tears were joyful drops.

I prayed not for myself,

I prayed thanksgiving to the one who gave their life for me.

You see, someone, somewhere survived covid-19.

Whoever that person is,

 whose plasma was 

now dripping into my body, 

has a heart of gold.

They gave their time to go to a blood donation center.

They gave up time indulging themselves, 

and they thought of me.

Some old lady, 

they never met,

 so she can have a few more years to live.

They gave gas money,

 possibly sick time from their job, 

They gave time spent with the people they love

so I can have more time with the people I love.

Some say, 

"I'm done with covid. 

Now, let me go play."

Others say,

 "I'm done with covid.

 Now, who can I help this day?"

Thank you

convalescent plasma donors.

You rock.

You remind me of Jesus.

Just like Him,

you shed your blood so I can live.

"Be imitators of God, therefore,

as dearly loved children and

live a life of love,

just as Christ loved us and

gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and

sacrifice to God."

Ephesians 5:1-2

How can you live a life of love today?

Please consider being a blood donor.

You may save a life.

Just like Jesus.