Operator: “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
Sunday, January 2nd, 2022
I woke on Sunday morning feeling refreshed. I remember thinking the cold medicine I took the night before must have done its job because I actually felt great! Crystal had never come to bed the night before so I quickly got dressed and went to find her to check on her. I walked into the front room and found she was still in the recliner she was in the night before and is covered up with a light blanket, still asleep. As I walked closer to her I noticed the color had gone from her face, she was almost gray. Placing a hand on her forehead, she was hot to the touch. There was an instant thermometer next to her so I checked her temperature. It was 105.8° F! I quickly got a pulse oximeter and clipped it to her finger. Her blood oxygen (Sp02) was 38%! Her condition was obviously worsening and this was now a critical medical emergency.
I picked up my phone and made a call for help. Operator: “9-1-1, what is your emergency?” I was quickly descending into a state of panic. I was able to get out the words “I need an ambulance, my wife is sick!” When asked for the address, I started to give the address but I knew I was wrong. I asked the operator on the phone to hold on just a moment, I needed to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. The county had just recently re-addressed all of the properties in this area. What was the new address? I couldn’t remember. After pausing for a few seconds, which felt like an eternity, I was able to give the operator our address. Now that I had regained my composure I was able to provide details of Crystal’s illness. The operator assured me that emergency services we responding and they would be here soon.
It had been snowing since mid-day on new years eve. By the time the sun rose on Sunday morning the skies were clear and we had been blessed with over 12 inches of new, very wet, snow. The photo to the left was taken about 3:00 in the afternoon on Saturday. The roads are now snow-packed and icy. Because of this, the ambulance and fire department were about 20 minutes getting to us. After the 911 call, I called my parents, who live just down the road, to let them know what was going on. By the time the ambulance arrived my parents, my brother, and his wife were all at the house with us. Crystal had begun to wake up and was talking to me but what she was saying didn’t really make sense. I explained to her that she had gotten worse overnight and that the ambulance was here to take her to the hospital. The paramedic and her crew came in and began to assess Crystal. They were startled by her SpO2 level and immediately put her on supplemental oxygen. They completed taking a full set of vital signs and her temperature is now up to 106°. As they were loading her in the ambulance, the oxygen therapy was helping. I could see on the monitor that her Sp02 was now up to 80% but that is still too low. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her I would see her at the hospital. I stayed at the house for a few minutes and updated my family on the details of the morning. I also made calls to Crystal’s family, letting them know she was on the way to the hospital and that I would update them as soon as I knew more. I put on my coat and headed to the hospital.
His first words confirmed what I already expected. “Crystal is very sick.”
I probably should have accepted one of the many offers I received to drive me to the hospital. I refused all of them though. On the drive, my mind was racing. In the 14+ years I spent as a first responder I had treated patients with acute respiratory failure like this and I knew Crystal was in trouble. After about a 30-minute drive on terrible roads, I arrived at the hospital. I walked into the emergency department and checked in at the desk. I was informed that the doctor was with Crystal, that she was undergoing several medical diagnostic procedures, and that someone would come out and speak with me as soon as they are able to. Until this time I was asked to wait where I was. While I was waiting, phone calls and text messages began to flood my phone. Friends and extended family members were expressing their concern and how they are thinking about, and praying for Crystal and me.
After what seemed like hours, but in reality, was only about 45 minutes, the doctor joined me in the waiting room. His first words confirmed what I already expected, “Crystal is very sick.” The doctor had confirmed with x-rays that Crystal has pneumonia and that it has extended, almost completely, through both lungs. They have taken cultures of the secretions coming from her lungs and they will be analyzed to identify the type of antigen causing this. He continued to say that based on his experience, he is almost certain this is viral pneumonia and possibly bacterial pneumonia on top of it. “Crystal will be admitted to the hospital and you should expect her to be here for several weeks” the doctor explained to me. As he continued he explained that Crystal has tested positive for COVID-19 and that, unfortunately, once she is admitted she will have to be in a negative pressure room (isolation room), and because of this, visiting her may not be allowed. He invited me to sit with her in the emergency department until they are ready to move her to her hospital room.
The doctor escorted me through the emergency department to where Crystal was waiting for her admission to the hospital. She was awake and seemed to be alert but was not conversing much at all. She was on a non-rebreather mask for oxygen therapy and had several IVs established which were a various assortment of broad-spectrum antibiotics and steroids to begin treating the still unknown antigens that were attacking her respiratory system. I talked to her and assured her she was getting the help she needed but that she would be admitted to the hospital and could be here for a while as her pneumonia is being treated. She seemed to nod in understanding. I let her know that I may not be able to visit very frequently until she begins to recover from the worst part of this but that she can keep her phone and we can communicate that way. With that, it was time for her to move into the hospital room. I walked with them up to this large pair of oppressing wooden doors, where they paused for me to say goodbye. I held Crystal’s hand just a little bit longer, told her how much I loved her, kissed the back of her hand and she then disappeared behind the doors.
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