I Don't Know What They Were Doing and Giving Him....

Texomo Medical Center, Texas

It was Monday, August 16, 2021.  Mom had been admitted to Texoma Medical Center on Wednesday, August 11, 2021 for COVID-19.  Mom was vented on Friday, August 13, 2021.  Dad was at home, along with my sister due to being “quarantined” due to having been diagnosed with COVID-19.

So, on Monday, August 16, Dad’s oxygen was 89-90% on room air, and we couldn’t get him to the hospital due to the “quarantine” protocols.  Finally, that evening, he was admitted, and I was asked to leave.  The protocol at that time, which I didn’t know, was remdesivir and dexamethosone given simultaneously.

After I left him in the ER, I don't know what they were doing and giving him. The staff was very rude and not caring.

My dad didn’t have any underlying issues other than blood pressure.  Other than that, he was a pretty healthy man.  He loved working outdoors and around their home.  On Tuesday, I called to check on him and the hospital still had not been in there to change his linens or given him fresh water or anything.  So, I left work a little bit before noon that Tuesday, went to see if I could find some clean sheets for him, and see my mom through the window in ICU on the vent.  Finally found him some sheets, changed his linens and helped him clean up a bit, gave him fresh water, then went back to work.

"I am scared for my children's future. We were fed a lie by the government."

After work, I went back to hospital to do the same routine.  I was able to speak with his MD in the A.M., at noon and evenings.  Dad’s MD was and still is on speed dial on my personal phone.  He would give me updates on Dad’s lungs.  I asked about a different protocol due to dad was getting worse; breathing constantly changing.  I also asked about Physical Therapy to help get him up in the chair to help his lungs, body do better than laying in the bed, but to no avail.  I am a Physical Therapist Assistant and understand pneumonia; resting, respiratory therapy (percussions, breathing techniques, etc.) sitting up in a chair, working on endurance.  None of that was offered.  I still to this day do not understand one bit.

Anyways, it was a constant battle trying to make sure he had nourishment, fresh linens, water, vitals being checked, oxygen levels being checked, making sure mask and nasal cannula were in place, oxygen hooked up to wall, etc.  But it just seemed like they didn’t care.

My sister finally was dismissed from being quarantined and began staying with Dad throughout the days while I was at work.  She would keep me informed of MD coming in, nurses coming in, if that, tests being run, Dad’s vitals.  Then in the evenings I would leave work, go get Dad something to eat, try to work on breathing techniques with him and stay until 11, 12, sometimes 1-2 am and return to work the next day.

I remember during those times I was there that the halls were super quiet, not many hospital personnel to be found, few and far between, that is.  It was actually quite creepy.  A nurse friend of mine that worked there called and asked if he could take my dad in a wheelchair to see Mom in ICU; I said, “of course.”  At this moment; everyone had Covid or so it seemed.  Daddy was able to be by Mom’s side as she passed on Saturday, 8/21/2021, holding her hand.  That was so hard!!!  I have told her story, which was a little different.  She was vented, not sure why.

Anyways, on Sunday, August 22, 2021, I was able to go to church while my sister was at the hospital with Dad.  I went [to see him] after church and several times that day.

Went back to work on Monday, 8/23/2021, my sister was with Dad and they were going to move him to a different floor this time.  So, dad was moved from the “Covid” floor (4th) then to another floor right by the nursing station (don’t remember) for a couple of days, then his last days would be spent up on the 7th floor.  We didn’t know that would be the final floor; as we found out later that it would be.

Still, nursing staff was scarce and they were always on their phones. Dad was not getting his needs met, again, nourishment, checked on, fresh water, linens, respiratory therapy, physical therapy, occupational therapy, in a room with a huge vent at the very end of the hallway.  One evening, my sister was able to bring Daddy’s dog, Sheba, up to see him.  He was so excited to see her.  He was able to sit up in the chair and pet on her and to see the tears in his eyes were so sweet.  He loved his dog so much.  (He was actually still on the 4th floor at this time).

My sister and I made sure we saw Dad everyday.  The nurses/staff was always telling us that we couldn’t see our Dad together, but believe me, we made it happen.  I didn’t care what they thought.  NO ONE; I MEAN NO ONE, SHOULD BE IN A HOSPITAL WITHOUT SOMEONE PRESENT AT ALL TIMES!!!!!  I don’t know what they gave him.  I do have the medical records on CD; not sure how to get them printed.  But will be working on that.

Just so sad what our world has come to. No respect for life. I am in the medical field myself, and it seems like even those people are just doing a "Job," not seeking what is best for their patients, forced to have protocols that have killed over 1 million innocent lives.

The final move for Daddy was to the 7th floor.  The MD showed us a picture of his lungs and how bad they looked.  I can only describe them in my mind like this:  Me:  “I went out on my back porch one morning and saw a hummingbird caught up in a spider web.  I gently removed the hummingbird from the web and began to try and remove the web from its wings and body.  As I was doing this, I thought of my Daddy’s lungs and how bad they looked.  Yet, I couldn’t clean his lungs out; they were unreachable/untouchable.  The web-like material in Daddy’s lungs were white, looked hard and cold.  I began to cry and think of the slow death of his lungs; how it was so hard for him to talk, take a breath, say, “I love you.”  Yet, I was able to clean off the web from the hummingbird and it finally flew away.  I had to trust the medical professionals and the ones caring for my daddy.”

I am so frustrated with inhumane part of this horrible pandemic that so many people had to deal with.  Things like: “You can’t be in here, this is protocol, we don’t have the staffing, we don’t have other medicinal options.”  A trauma hospital, really?

Anyways, Dad seemed to be pretty good on Friday, 8/19/2021; he had a better day; was able to eat some sweet potato pie and was visiting with friends and family.  My husband, who is a Texas Highway Patrolman stopped by to see Daddy every morning with a strawberry shake and biscuit.  At least he had something if he didn’t get his food that day.  My sister and I also took him food he could snack on if he felt like it.

Some friends from my parents’ church came up to the hospital grounds and had a prayer vigil for Daddy.  It was so sweet.  You could see the sunset in the distance.  I am not sure how or why, but I knew in my heart that Daddy wouldn’t make it.  God’s peace is something else.  I wanted my daddy to live, but without his queen of 60+ years, I understand now.  So, on Sunday morning, August 29, 2021, as I was getting ready for church, my sister called me and said that I need to get to the hospital ASAP.  Dad was in A-fib, BP 60/40, breathing erratic.  My sister said, “I tried to get the nurses to come in Daddy’s room; I went up and down the hall and when I found them; they were in a room on their phones.  I was telling them that my daddy was having a hard time breathing, but they just sat there.”  Again, WHY????????  You are a medical caregiver and that life, my dad’s life, was important to us; maybe not to them, but it was to us.

Finally, they came in; I got to the hospital in 5 minutes; Dad had tears in his eyes, had dirty sheets, couldn’t go to the bathroom, couldn’t breathe; it was awful.  They finally called his MD and the pulmonologist.  It took them 2 hours before they would get there!  Dad’s MD stated that he was going into septic shock and the pulmonologist said they needed to “vent” him.  I asked the pulmonologist to step outside his room since I had some questions regarding the process.

We stepped outside Dad’s room in the hallway and I asked the pulmonologist, “If you vent my dad; will he survive, come out of it?”  His response, “Probably not”.  Me, “Well, let me ask Daddy what he wants to do.”  Do you know that man stomped away from me and down the hallways????!!!!  A medical professional.  Really???

So, I went back into daddy’s room (721) with me on one side of him and my sister on the other.  I spoke to Dad with these words, “Dad, if they vent you; you will probably not come out of it; it’s up to you.  Or, Teresa or I can sign the DNR for you.”  I asked Dad to just shake his head, “Yes” or “No.”  I asked Dad, “So, do you want to be vented?”  He paused, looked at me and my sister and gently shook his head, “No,” with tears running down the side of his face.  Then I asked Dad, “Do you want me to sign the DNR?”  Again, he looked at me and my sister and hesitantly shook his head “yes.”  I about fell to the floor.  I signed the DNR.

Daddy passed in about 4 hours.  They pretty much euthanized him.  It was awful watching him slowly die, his heart rate dwindle.  I saw both my parents take their last breaths on this earth.  I can still see them to this day.  It still scares me and makes me nauseous thinking about that time.  Especially with Daddy; not getting the care he so much deserved because he was a person with a heartbeat, a son, brother, husband, daddy, “Opa” to 4 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren), friend.

It was a nightmarish time in our lives, but we do know that he is with his “Queen,” our precious Momma which we still miss every single day.   I have a hard time just going to the hospital to visit loved ones, friends because of this story.

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