Michelle H.'s Story

Spruce Pine, NC

He said that Aaron's lower lungs were hardening, so they had to get him on the ventilator immediately.

Aaron never once coughed at home, panted, or showed/expressed any indication of lung issues.

Fear Set In

“Aaron wasn't having any difficulties breathing, but he suffered from anxiety and was quickly becoming afraid.”

My husband, Aaron, was diagnosed with COVID by PCR on 9/7/21 at his pcp's office. He had been having flu-like aches, low-grade fevers, and just generally feeling bad. At the time of diagnosis, the doctor told us that he had already had COVID too long for the antibody infusion to be effective, so we just needed to go home and isolate/quarantine.


By night time of 9/9/21, Aaron's fever hadn't dissipated, and his oxygen saturation level had dropped to 63%, if the pulse oximeter we had was correct. Aaron wasn't having any difficulties breathing, but he suffered from anxiety and was quickly becoming afraid. Not knowing how dangerous the hospital was, I calmly offered to take him to the E.R. if it would set his mind at ease. If I had known what they were doing in hospitals in the name of "protocol", I WOULD HAVE NEVER TAKEN HIM.


He walked into that E.R. on Thurs., 9/9/21, and we let the triage nurse know he had COVID and was there because the oximeter said 63% at home. Immediately, 2 workers came out and took Aaron to the back in a wheelchair. I was not allowed to go with them.


Remdesivir

“I asked the doctor what medicine he was being given, and he said Remdesivir.”

Roughly an hour later, the E.R. doctor came to talk to me. He said that Aaron's lower lungs were hardening, so they had to get him on the ventilator immediately. And in order to put him on the machine, he would have to be paralyzed. I was in shock, because Aaron never once coughed at home, panted, or showed/expressed any indication of lung issues. He had stopped vaping a few weeks before being diagnosed with COVID, for which I was so proud of him - he knew how much I hated the stuff.


I asked the doctor what medicine he was being given, and he said Remdesivir and something else that I can't remember now. I had heard via social media that Remdesivir was bad, but I didn't know why. So I asked the doctor if he could give Aaron something else, like HCQ or Ivermectin, which I knew were successful treatments. He said absolutely not, that Remdesivir + the other med were the only approved treatments for COVID in hospitals. So I let it go, because I was still in shock, all alone, and didn't know what to do. I had nobody I could call, besides his mother, who couldn't be there because she was her daughter's full-time caregiver. She did give me phone support, and she desperately wanted to be there with us.

I saw Aaron alive for the last time that night, when they let me come to the treatment room's window and wave at him, as they were prepping him for the ventilator. He gave me a thumbs up sign - at their encouragement - and I lost control in the waiting room and cried.


Aggressively Treating


I went home later that night, when they told me he was sleeping and stable on the vent, and that I would not be allowed to see him as long as he was positive for COVID. Something that struck me as strange in the situation: I never volunteered this information, and they never asked, but I was recovering from COVID at the time. I didn't wear a mask, I didn't get tested, and neither of us wanted the vax. I got over the symptoms within a few days, however, and I was fortunate that it never went to my lungs.


I received updates from the hospital regularly, telling me that they were continuing to "aggressively treat" his symptoms. According to reports, his oxygen went up and down, they turned him in the bed, but also according to them his lungs continued to worsen. By Friday night they were calling other, larger hospitals to transfer him to, with no success. Finally, on Saturday, I was told about Asheville hospital having an available bed, and also a ECMO machine that they were trying to get approval to use on Aaron. This gave me some measure of hope, so I agreed when the doctor asked if Aaron could be transferred. Mighty sweet to be asked permission for transfer, when I was denied any choices of treatment or visitation rights for my husband.


Allowed To Say Goodbye

“I was told he would be kept alive until I got there. ”

So on Monday, 9/13/21, Aaron was transferred to Asheville hospital, still within the Mission Health system. Shortly after that, I was notified that the treatment team did not agree on using the ECMO, so it wasn't approved. His lungs continued to worsen through the night, and on the morning of 9/14/21, they called me and said I needed to come as soon as possible, that his organs were shutting down. I was told he would be kept alive until I got there.


When I arrived and went back to the treatment room, they decked me out in full hazmat gear, as if he had the bubonic plague. I couldn't even touch my husband with my uncovered hand, or kiss his cheek. At that point, all I could do was sob, I couldn't think or react any other way. My husband, who just 5 days earlier was alive and talking to me, was gone!


It has only been in the last month or so that I've been more successful at letting go of my anger that bordered on hatred. I was so frustrated, because the more I learned about the truth of what has been happening in hospitals, the more I wanted vengeance against those that took my love and best friend from me. I learned, however, that hospitals and doctors were being protected during the "pandemic", and couldn't be held accountable.


I forgive those who hurt me. I pray for all involved, that they may repent of their sins and turn to God before it is too late. God loves justice, and those that do this evil will answer to Him, very soon. That knowledge gives me hope.


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