Covid-19

Just so I NEVER forget..... April 2, 2020

It snowed, again.

Gas price a mile from home was $2.03

Schools - soft closure. College courses moved to online

Self-distancing measures on the rise.

Tape on the floors at grocery stores and others to help distance shoppers (6ft) from each other.

Limited number of people inside stores, therefore, lineups outside the store doors.

Non-essential stores and businesses mandated closed.

Parks, trails, entire cities locked up.

Entire sports seasons cancelled.

Concerts, tours, festivals, entertainment events - cancelled.

Weddings, family celebrations, holiday gatherings - cancelled.

No masses, churches are closed.

No gatherings of 50 or more, then 20 or more, now 5 or more.

Don't socialize with anyone outside of your home.

Children's outdoor play parks are closed.

We are to distance from each other.

Shortage of masks, gowns, gloves for our front-line workers.

Shortage of ventilators for the critically ill.

Panic buying sets in and we have no toilet paper, no disinfecting supplies, no paper towels, no laundry soap, no hand sanitizer.

Shelves are bare.

Manufacturers, distilleries and other businesses switch their lines to help make visors, masks, hand sanitizer and PPE.

Government closes the border to all non-essential travel.

Fines are established for breaking the rules.

Stadiums and recreation facilities open up for the overflow of Covid-19 patients.

Press conferences daily from the President. Daily updates on new cases, recoveries, and deaths.

Government incentives to stay home.

Barely anyone on the roads.

People wearing masks and gloves outside.

Essential service workers are terrified to go to work.

Medical field workers are afraid to go home to their families.

5.4 Earthquake hit Utah (Magna) March 18th 2020.

This is the Novel Coronavirus (Covid-19) Pandemic, declared March 11th, 2020.

Why, you ask, do I write this status?

One day it will show up in my blog and it will be a reminder that life is precious and not to take the things we dearly love for granted.

*****

Erik Grill wrote-

Since my release from the hospital, I’ve received many questions about my experience, and what it was like. I’ve decided to write this in an attempt to answer those questions so I can organize my thoughts, and because talking is kind of difficult for me now.

Let me begin by saying I still don’t know from where I contracted the virus. I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, and I just don’t know. I don’t know anyone else who has it, I didn’t travel anywhere, and the places I did go were in the company of others who have not reported any illness or symptoms. As near as I can tell, this was just a random chance. Which, to my mind, makes this all worse, because it reveals that our precautions are imperfect and you can do everything you’re supposed to and still get sick. This is not to say that you should stop washing your hands—far from it—but it is worth remembering that there is no real way to make yourself “safe” from this. All you can do is mitigate risk.

Since at least February, I had been washing my hands and singing “Happy Birthday,” and doing what I could to avoid transmission. But my first symptom emerged on Friday, March 13. It was a slight, dry cough. I remember because my coworkers heard me cough and we joked (unknowingly) that I must have corona. At the time, we were just starting to make “work from home” preparations. We were chatting and talking, and I remember commenting that—by that time—we’d all probably been exposed without knowing it. But I didn’t for a moment actually think I had it. None of this was real yet. I’ve had coughs before, usually this time of year, and didn’t think anything of it. Also, at that time, I was operating on the belief that—even if I ended up getting sick—my relative age and health would mean that it would just be a particularly bad flu. I was very, very wrong.

The following afternoon, I felt cold and started cranking up the thermostat. Our household digital thermometer was not functioning, so I borrowed a mercury thermometer from my mother that she brought with her from when she was living in Mexico. Between its Celsius measurements and my operator errors, my initial determination was that my temperature was like 99 degrees, or probably normal. So, I bundled up with blankets and assumed that the March air was just chilly. I didn’t have any other symptoms.

Sunday came, and the cough and chills grew worse. I eventually came to doubt my initial thermometer readings, and tried again. This time, I came up with 102 degrees. At this point, I began to develop the faintest inclination that I may have a problem. But, like a typical American, the problem as I saw it was how this was going to impact my work. I had a major argument coming up on that Tuesday, and this just WASN’T THE TIME, you know? Regardless, we’d already had enough discussions at work that I knew that I couldn’t come to the office while presenting flu symptoms. I felt frustrated and guilty because I was letting my coworkers and clients down. But there was nothing I could do.

I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for Monday morning, March 16. The chills and cough continued. When I arrived, the nurse took my temperature—103 degrees now. They swabbed me for flu, but said it could be a few days before the test results came in. My doctor told me that I had the symptoms of COVID and should assume that I had it. But there wasn’t really anything to do other than stay hydrated, get rest, and to isolate myself as best as I could.

On Tuesday, March 17, the flu results came back negative. Whatever I had, it was not the Flu A or B. But no word on COVID-19 test results. My online “patient portal” showed that test as “cancelled.” Which made no sense to me, and threw everything into confusion for my employer. Do I have it? Did I expose else? What measure needed to be taken? I called my doctor’s office, and they assured me that the results were still coming, but since they had to be sent out of the in-house lab, they considered that “cancelled” internally, or something. Basically, it was something about insurance. So, I kept waiting.

Up to this point, I felt sick, but not out of the ordinary for a nasty flu. But on Wednesday, March 18, things started to get worse. I had lost my appetite, and wasn’t sleeping well. I was tired all the time. In short, I was chilled, tired, and hungry-but-not-hungry. It was miserable. Still, I assumed I must be reaching the “peak” of this flu, and this would be breaking at any minute. But it didn’t break. Thursday, Friday, Saturday…more of the same. I wasn’t getting better. On Sunday, I noticed for the first time that I was just a little out of breath moving from the kitchen to the bedroom. The one thing my doctor told me was that if I started getting short of breath, don’t mess around and go to the ER. I was a little out of breath, but was that the same as short of breath? I debated for a few hours, but ultimately decided not to take chances, and I asked Abby to drive me to the hospital in the evening on Sunday, March 22—just over week after symptoms first appeared.

When I got to the hospital, they had a station for people to check in, describe their symptoms, and take some initial readings. I was a little out of it by now, but I remember the nurse taking my information, termperture, and…something. I’m not sure what it was, but I remember her calling in to someone and saying, “…with his numbers, I don’t want him sitting in the waiting area. I think we should get him in now.”

They led back to an exam room where they hooked me up to a bunch of electronic leads. After checking the readings, I was informed that my blood oxygen saturation was…rather lower than they’d like (I believe it was something in the mid 80’s.) They gave me oxygen through a nasal cannula, and that air felt really good. I was then informed that they’d be sending me in for a CAT scan of my chest. Around this time, they also gave me a new flu-test swab. After the CAT scan showed my lungs were basically full of goo, I was admitted to the hospital. I started out in a room that had clearly been modified for contagious disease control. There were signs, and the room had negative air pressure so that when the door opened air flowed in instead of out. The nurses and doctors had to put on fresh scrubs each time they came to my room. By now, it was late—between 11 and 1 a.m. I was tired and went to sleep.

For the next couple of days, I stayed in that room watching basic cable (Criminal Minds, Law & Order, and Star Trek TNG). I was breathing oxygen and moving around the room more or less at will, making sure that my leads and oxygen tube didn’t snag on anything. It was hard moving, but I could do it with enough planning and care. Late Monday night, they told me that I tested positive for COVID-19. This was not really a surprise anymore, but at least now I knew for sure. They’d already been giving me Zithromax to combat pneumonia, but now they were giving me Plaquenil for the COVID. On Tuesday night, they moved me to the ICU so they could “monitor me more closely.” I didn’t really know it at the time, but this was also so they could intubate me immediately if my breathing got any worse.

Up to this point, I wasn’t really paying close attention to my condition. First of all, I’m just a lawyer—what the hell did I know about medicine? I was in the hospital, they were watching me, and so I was going to be fine. Right? No need to worry too much. I was still very tired and weak, but I assumed that I was getting better.

On Wednesday morning, the doctor came in and said they were seriously considering intubating me and putting me on a ventilator. And the Earth kind of slowed down for a moment. I was sort of confused, because I was on the drugs and it felt like I was breathing sort of OK. I was slowly brought to understand that I was only breathing because they had me on a flow of 15 liters of oxygen. The antibiotics and plaquenil might be helping, but they weren’t holding the line. My blood oxygen saturation was hanging between 89 and 90. My lung capacity was almost tapping out. The best way I can describe it is, say the word “choo-choo.” Now imagine that the effort of that not only exhausted all of the air in your lungs but that you had to race to catch your breath afterwards. So, yeah, I was not doing OK at all.

The doctor explained to me that all of the COVID treatments were still more or less being developed on the fly, and there weren’t any clear answers. But, where ventilators were effective, they were most effective when applied sooner rather than later. So, that’s where they were in their process. Oxygen and drugs had been applied to the max, but there was no real improvement. Any further degradation, and there was only one play left in the book.

In my mind, I couldn’t get past the idea of having a tube shoved down my throat. That sounded awful. Also, because I had my phone with me, I was able to read online about the virus and its effects, and I knew that once ventilators were applied, the outcomes were more or less 50%. I was suddenly looking at a coin flip where the outcome was that I might…die. Gasping.

I am incapable of describing the horror that overcame me in that moment. I’m 43, and so from an actuarial standpoint, I know there should be fewer days ahead of me than behind me, but I had allowed myself the illusion that my death was still on a distant horizon. Suddenly, I might not see the end of the week. So, the first wave was existential dread and grappling with my own suddenly-imminent mortality. This was followed almost immediately by the emotional devastation of considering the effect of my death upon my family. I would not see my son grow up. He’s only 19 months old—would he even remember me? All of the things I needed to teach him…I wouldn’t be able to pass any of it on. Abigail would have to raise him on her own. Abigail—my wife, oh god, I don’t want it to be over now. We were supposed to have more time than this. Wait, the bank account information is on my phone, but with FaceID could she access any of it? Would she know where to look? I promised myself I would not leave her in the position of having to hunt things down if anything happened to me, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it. I thought there was still time. I wanted to hold my wife and son, and I realized that with quarantine, I might never be able to do that again.

So, I basically had a complete freakout. Which is even worse when you can’t really breathe.

I think it’s worth revisiting the timeline at this point. This was all happening on Wednesday, March 25. My first hint of symptoms was on March 13. In just about 12 days, I had gone from feeling fine and more or less healthy to being sick enough that death was a very real outcome. 12 days was all it took.

I spent the next six hours sitting in a chair and focusing on my breathing. I was hoping—virtually willing—the O2 saturation meter to go up.

And it did.

I finally leveled off and stabilized. By around noon on Wednesday, I reached what they ironically called “critically stable.” I was still in bad shape, but I wasn’t getting any worse. So they decided to hold off intubation and ventilation.

For the next two days, I lived in that weird middle ground, with oxygen levels going up and down. But on Friday, my fever broke and I started to feel just a little better. By Saturday afternoon, my oxygen usage was down to 6 liters. On Monday, March 30, they moved me out of the ICU into a “step-down” unit. By Wednesday, April 1, my oxygen flow was down to 3 liters, and they decided that I could be discharged. I called Abby for a ride home. After they wheeled me outside and I was within reach, we hugged each other for a good long while, and I broke down into tears. I was happy, relieved, and retroactively terrified. Abby drove me home.

I still have a long recovery ahead. My lung capacity is still low, and every tiny effort leaves me winded. The doctor wanted to send me home with an oxygen tank for support, but—no joke—my insurance doesn’t cover oxygen for COVID. So, if I run into any further respiratory distress, it’s back to the hospital. But each day is a little better than the last, so hopefully that won’t be necessary. And I still haven’t gotten the test results from the first COVID test on March 16.

Here’s my final thoughts and what I hope people can take away from this:

This virus is no joke. It can kill you fast. If you think you’re healthy and safe, you’re not. Listen to the experts and do everything you can to slow the spread. Have a plan if everything goes sideways. You may not have time to make arrangements after you get sick. And hug your loved ones—it’s amazing how much that will be the only thing you want if you find yourself in a hospital room.

Lastly, I want to pay respect and gratitude to healthcare workers. The people helping me were amazing and demonstrated a level of care, kindness, and professionalism that was genuinely inspiring. They were pretty damn heroic under the circumstances.

Thank you again to everyone for your love and support for me—and for my family—during this time. It has meant more than I could ever possibly express, but thank you.

God bless you all, and stay careful.

*****

I love this, but now that we are awake, we need to stay that way.

Carnival Cruise line told Trump, “We can match those big Navy hospital ships with some fully staffed cruise ships.”

GM & Ford said, “Hold our cars, watch this; we can make ventilators where we were making cars by next week.”

Construction companies said, “Here are some masks for the medical staff & doctors.”

Restaurants & schools said, “We’ve got kitchens & staff; we can feed the kids.”

NHL & NBA players are writing checks to pay the arena staff during postponed seasons.

Churches are holding online services & taking care of their members & community.

Women & children are making homemade masks & handing out snacks to truckers.

Breweries are making sanitizer out of the left-over ingredients.

We thought we couldn’t live without baseball, hockey, & NASCAR, or going to beaches, restaurants, or a bar.. Instead, we’re ordering take-out to help keep businesses alive.

What they didn’t count on was America saying, “Hold my beer, watch this.”

I think a Japanese Admiral in the middle of the Pacific said it best in 1941: “I think we have awakened a sleeping giant.”

Give us a little more time & we will be doing much better! Stop listening to the hysterical media.

We are one nation, under God.

*****

We fell asleep in one world and woke up in another....

Suddenly Disney is out of magic,

Paris is no longer romantic,

New York doesn’t stand up anymore,

the Chinese wall is no longer a fortress, and Mecca is empty.

Hugs & kisses suddenly become weapons, and not visiting parents & friends becomes an act of love.

Suddenly you realize that power, beauty & money are worthless, and can’t get you the oxygen you’re fighting for.

The world continues its life and it is beautiful. It only puts humans in cages. I think it’s sending us a message:

“You are not necessary. The air, earth, water, and sky without you are fine. When you come back, remember that you are my guests. Not my masters.”