My husband and I both contracted Covid-19 at the end of August 2021. After a few days of him feeling really fluish and crummy with a fever of 104 degrees, we decided to take him to the ER. He tested positive on September 1, 2021 and was sent home with nothing more than pain management medication, Tessalon Perles to be exact, and was advised to take vitamins. My husband’s symptoms increased over the next few days, and on September 6, he was struggling to breathe, so I took him to a second ER. He was diagnosed with mild pneumonia and sent home on oxygen with a prescription for a nebulized medication (NOT Budesonide), but it was late and the pharmacy was out of nebulizers, so he was unable to start that medication. At 4:00AM that following morning, I regrettably called 9-1-1, because my husband’s oxygen saturation was down in the 70’s and he was starting to panic. He was taken to Baylor All Saints in Fort Worth at our request, because we were told they had Monoclonal Antibodies.

It was hours before I heard from my husband, but when he finally texted me, he let me know that I was able to come in to get the antibodies, but that the doctor told him he couldn’t get them since he was already on oxygen. I didn’t know it at the time, but my friend was at the same hospital, ON OXYGEN, and received the antibodies. She’s still here today (thankfully!). My 40 year old husband, on the other hand, was admitted that day, on September 7, 2021, and would end up fighting for a total of 122 days before losing his battle with the hospitals on January 7, 2022.

Because I also had Covid, I was unable to be with him until I tested negative. Unbeknownst to me, they had completed 5 days of Remdesivir during this time, which ironically was completed the day I was finally able to see him. I hadn’t heard anything about Remdesivir until friends started writing to me telling me not to let the hospitals administer it under any circumstances. I asked him if he had been given the drug and he responded, “Yes, why?”. That’s when I knew they hadn’t disclosed any information about Remdesivir or the EUA status, and I knew I couldn’t say anything or he would’ve panicked, as it was already too late. There’s NO WAY my husband would’ve given his consent to receive a drug that is known to cause multi-system organ failure. He developed PTSD after serving two tours in Iraq and suffered from debilitating anxiety at times. The thought of his organs shutting down would’ve most definitely sent him into a panic.

On September 12, I was finally able to visit my husband for an hour/day. He was on high flow nasal canula with a non-rebreather mask. He was struggling to eat and I could tell he had lost a significant amount of weight. At this time, I was still ignorant to the truth of the deadly hospital protocol and I trusted that they were doing everything to help him. On September 20, I saw in his chart that they still had his pre-admitted weight, so I called the nurse and asked her to weigh him. My athletically built, muscular, police officer/Army veteran husband had lost 31 POUNDS in 13 days while being awake. Not only were they not addressing this extreme weight loss by giving my husband much needed nutrition, but they also still had him weighing 31lbs more than he did, and were therefore going by that weight for drug dosing. At this point, I was starting to wake up to what was going on- at least in the lack of basic care. I was still ignorant of the protocol and the use of respiratory suppressing drugs that were already being pumped into my husband.

On September 18, everything changed when a medical professional from the inside messaged me via my husband’s phone and told me I needed to look at FLCCC.net and get him Ivermectin ASAP. That’s the moment when my gut feelings were confirmed and I knew the hospitals/doctors/nurses weren’t fighting to save my husband’s life and I had to fight for him myself. I had a prescription for Ivermectin within a couple hours and he received his first dose that evening. Prior to receiving that dose, my husband was unable to sit up and was fighting to take every breath. When I walked into his room THE NEXT MORNING, my husband was sitting up in bed and he threw his hands up and said, “I’m coming home to you!”. I’ll never forget his words or the way he looked, but something in me couldn’t celebrate yet. Later that day, after my one hour visit was over and the doctors had made their rounds, my husband messaged me, “Well, that was weird. The male doctor came in and listened to me breathe for a second and was just like, alright, see you later.” I responded, “Uh, what? He didn’t say anything?”, to which he responded, “I’ve been between 95%-97% all morning. I mean, he talked to me briefly, but no status update or anything. I guess I just expected a different reaction from him.” All I could say was, “We have so much to talk about when you get out!”.

Unfortunately, the miraculous turnaround didn’t last long. I didn’t know it at the time, but the dose of Ivermectin that he had been prescribed should’ve been tripled. On top of that, I found out after it was too late, that they had started giving him Precedex, in addition to multiple anti-anxiety medications and narcotics that were further suppressing his breathing. His breathing continued to worsen, and after us both being aggressively questioned as to why we hadn’t been vaccinated, and after doctors and nurses threatening that he would be put on the ventilator, my husband finally succumbed to the ever mounting anxiety and asked…he actually requested…to be intubated. After 22 years together, 20 married, September 24, 2021 would be the last day that I would ever hear my husband’s voice.

Palliative Care entered the equation almost immediately after his intubation and I was livid. With the support of an advocate, I had requested that my husband receive Ivermectin in the meeting with Palliative Care, but was denied and told I could have a meeting with the hospital’s Ethic’s Committee to plead my case. With the help of my attorney, as well as Doctor Richard Bartlett, we met via Zoom and they helped me to petition for the administering of Ivermectin, as well as Budesonide. After introducing my husband’s case as, “We have a 41 year old, UNVACCINATED male…”, they denied my request to administer the Ivermectin, but agreed to the Budesonide.