In January I was notified that my father had passed away in Lebanon, VA. He had been dealing with COPD for about 15 years and had been in the hospital for the past 10 days with viral pneumonia. I drove there and assisted my mom and sister in getting everything together with the funeral home, church, etc. Two days later, my sister notified me that she had tested positive for Covid and was experiencing all the symptoms. Soon after, my mom and I were also experiencing all the Covid symptoms. We went to a small emergency clinic, where we tested positive for Covid and the doctor there prescribed a Zac for both of us.

Over the next few days, I got progressively worse. I knew I couldn't take this home to my wife and tried to fight it out. My wife eventually drove me back (6 hours) to the ER at Self Regional in Greenwood. I was almost immediately taken to an ER room and placed on oxygen. The doctor recognized me as one of his former patients in Savannah Lakes Village and talked me through everything that was going on, and he and the ER staff were amazing. After a few hours there. I don't remember a lot of what occurred other than all the tests that were performed on me. Apparently, my oxygen level had dropped to 72%. I knew this was not good. At some point I was transferred to a floor room and met one of my doctors. I don't remember much about the next several days other than my doctor telling me he had done all he could for me and needed to move me to another part of the hospital. Some time later I came around and remember seeing a gentleman in scrubs, inserting a syringe into my IV and telling me to say "goodnight". I now have memories of coming around in another room and not being able to move. I later learned that I had to be put in soft restraints to keep me from pulling my ventilator and feeding tubes out.

A nurse who was with me (I later learned her name was Cat) was talking to me. It seemed to take a while for me to understand what she was saying, but she was telling me that she was taking care of me and that I would be okay. She was very reassuring, as I didn't know what was going on. She then asked if I liked music and I realized I couldn't speak, I guess that was because of the vent and feeding tubes. She came over and calmed me down and told me just to give her a thumbs up or down answer. I gave her a thumbs-up answer and it seemed like a few minutes later a laptop with two small speakers had been set up. At this point I didn't know she had been talking to my wife and son twice a day, giving them updates on me. She had also asked my wife if I enjoyed music, and thought since she and I were around the same age, I might like the same music as she did. It worked out great because I did. I don't remember much of the 6 or 7 days I was on the ventilator, but I do remember Cat trying to get me to FaceTime with my wife and son one day, and I do remember the music that was playing. My wife refers to Cat as an Angel that was sent to take care of me, and my wife, so I could come home to her.

I began waking up in ICU in early February, with Cat helping me. Again, Cat was so reassuring and began slowly to explain what had happened to me over the past week or so. This was as she was helping me clean my face and get comfortable again in a room where I was hooked up to a lot of machines and a lot of people trying to talk to me. I don't know how much time had passed during this, but at some point, she handed me my cell phone and told me she had turned it on and that it had been going off ever since. She helped me open up the text app and we both shed a few tears together as we looked at pictures of my 9-month-old grandson. (I thought at one point, I might not ever see him again). Cat and I talked for quite a while that morning, I found out that she and I had similar military backgrounds and definitely enjoyed the same type of music and concert venues. As she left for the day Cat made sure the music was playing for me. I don't know if I was her only patient, but she sure made me feel that way. I didn't remember at that time how long I spent in ICU, but I do remember Cat talking with me every day, taking care of me, explaining what had happened, and reassuring me I would be okay.

After what seemed like several days. I was moved out of ICU and to a floor room. Again, the care I received from the entire staff was amazing. After a couple of days, my room phone rang and it was Cat checking on me. She wanted to know why I was still "lazing around" there and not out of the hospital yet. We talked for a while. and she reassured me again that everything would be okay, just might take a little time.

All the nursing staff was so reassuring and attentive. I'm sorry I can't remember all their names, but I got to know several of them on a personal level. One nurse found out about me being a veteran and we talked a great deal about her son that was in Coast Guard. Others shared their, and their families, Covid experiences with me. It helped me to understand a little of what had happened to me and they kept reassuring me that I was going to be okay, it just might take a little time. I was moved around to several different floors before I was discharged. When I arrived at my home with my wife, I could barely walk the 20 feet from the car to our front door. Please note this seemingly simple act required a walker, SL of oxygen, and a short rest. In my five-week fight with Covid, I had lost a little over 30 lbs, had no stamina, and very little strength. Before I contracted Covid I was running a 9 1/2 minute mile, working out 4 days a week, hiking, swimming, playing golf, playing softball. and coaching varsity and junior varsity baseball teams at the local high school, etc. I was extremely active and took good physical care of myself. I also need to mention that I was taking no medications - for anything.

It's been four months now since the doctor called my wife and son and told them to prepare for the worst because I might not make it through the night. Things have changed a great deal since then. My son and I attended and walked the Master's Golf Tournament last month, my wife and I visited our grandson in Texas just after his first birthday, my wife and I also celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. I just celebrated my 61st birthday and I am back to doing all the things I had enjoyed before. This wouldn't have been possible without the people, the professionals, that had been in place to take care of me and my family during this truly difficult time. I do sincerely believe in what one of the doctors in ICU told me. He said that he didn't know what my religious persuasion was, but if I didn't believe in "Divine Intervention", I needed to start, because he couldn't otherwise explain my still being here. I believe that God puts the right people in your life when you need them most, and that's exactly what happened to me. Saying "Thank You" seems like such trivial words when I know these people were/are responsible for saving my life and helping my wife and son through so much while I was in ICU. Even so, I humbly and with all my heart, offer my trivial "Thanks" to each and every one of them, especially my "Angel" Cat in ICU.