Walking Thru the Valley of the Shadow of Death – How It All Started

“Mountaintops are for views and inspiration, but fruit is grown in the valleys.” – Billy Graham

Friday, October 15, 2021, will forever be a date etched in my mind and heart. It began our journey that would soon prove to be the scariest rollercoaster ride of my life so far.

I’ve thought over and over about how to tell this story. How do I begin to explain it all? How do I possibly put into words not only the things that I saw, but the gut-wrenching, tear-filled emotions often filled with desperation? And most importantly, how can I eloquently express the beauty that was experienced in a dark valley overshadowed by death? Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m going to try.

There are two reasons why I feel compelled to share this story. One – because I don’t ever want to forget it. Although it was the most terrifying, the most exhausting, and one of the most painful experiences I’ve gone through, it was an experience that led me straight into the presence of God.

My second reason for telling this story is simple — because I said I would. I’ll elaborate more on that later, but during one of the many intense and emotional times of prayer, I gave my word to God that I would tell all who would listen, all about it.

So here we go…

It’s Just Allergies…

Friday, October 8, 2021. It was an ordinary fall day at work and I was eager to start the weekend. October was a month our family looked forward to. Along with the cooler temps, we celebrated my husband, Joey’s birthday on October 6. The rest of the month led into our family traditions of watching “scary” movies (if you call Misery or the animated movie Monster House scary), visiting a local haunted farm and corn maze, and occasionally carving pumpkins.

This particular Friday, we were getting together with some longtime friends. My daughter, Kayla, my friend and I were going to try making some Halloween goodies. I sent a text to Joey letting him know I was looking forward to our evening but that my allergies were acting up and I had a tickle in the back of my throat. He also mentioned his allergies making him cough on and off. Later that night, everything had subsided.

Over the weekend, things changed. Saturday, I noticed Joey had a shiver. But apparently he wasn’t feeling too bad, because on Sunday we all went out to a nice dinner and later went to the movies. By Sunday night, he wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t sure he would make it into work the next day. By Monday, he had a full blown cough and called in to work. His boss told him he’d need to take a COVID test before coming back. To this day, I’m not sure what the mental block was, but the thought of COVID never entered my mind until that moment.

Joey and I went to a local clinic that was testing. We sat in the car as we waited for the results, Joey was now, coughing constantly. The lady came out to the car with the results — Joey was positive, I was negative. As the week progressed, me and our two sons, Josh and Cameron, who lived with us, started experiencing symptoms. We tested positive on the October 14. On October 15, Joey would be admitted into the hospital.

The week that Joey tested positive, the 12th through the 14th, I was working from home since I had been exposed. Joey would stay in our room and I would work from my computer in the living room. He would occasionally come into the kitchen to take ibuprofen for the horrible headache and fever, but most of the time he spent either in bed with extreme fatigue, coughing, or taking hot showers to try to relieve the body aches.

My friend, who was an EMT told us to get a pulse oximeter to regularly check his oxygen. The directions said that a normal oxygen saturation reading is 90 or above. She also mentioned to stay on top of the pain meds, rest, and to make sure to keep moving. She warned against lying around too much as pneumonia could quickly set in.

Whenever I asked Joey how he was feeling, he always reassured me that he didn’t feel good, but that he was ‘ok’. A couple of times he mentioned to me that while taking a hot shower, he felt like he was going to pass out. I knew how hot he liked his shower, so I passed it off, figuring the heat along with all the coughing, no wonder he felt that way.

One time, I went into the bedroom to check on him. I laid my head on his chest and heard crackling. He didn’t want to call the doctor and insisted he was fine. When he mentioned the feeling of passing out again as he bent down to pick something up, I started nagging him to call the doctor.  Finally, I managed to persuade him to at least call the nurse advise-line to make sure he was in fact okay.

“I need you to hang up right now and call 911.”

On the other end of the phone, the nurse asked Joey a few questions as he explained how he was feeling. I stood by listening. At one point she asked if his skin looked gray. I hadn’t really noticed it, but now that she mentioned it, his color did look off. She asked what his oxygen saturation was so I ran to get the oximeter.

I slipped it on his finger…64! She told him to take a few deep breaths…75.  The nurse sent chills through me next as she said, “I need you to hang up right now and call 911.”

Around 8:30 am, the ambulance came. I don’t know if it was because of COVID, but they made Joey meet them outside. They took Joey to the hospital and I ran inside the house and cried. The boys were still asleep and I had this sinking feeling that I should have woken them before he left. I ran into the bathroom so they wouldn’t hear me crying or see me falling apart. A thousand thoughts ran through my head. I was afraid.

I calmed myself best I could before I told the boys and texted our daughter. Joshua, our youngest, asked me if his dad was going to die. I was floored by his question and didn’t know how to answer. Each one of them at some point asked me if Joey was going to be okay. I knew they were thinking the worst; so was I.

I didn’t know if Joey would be okay. I didn’t want to scare them especially since I didn’t know how bad he was, but I didn’t want to lie to them and say everything would be fine. All I knew was that people who went to the hospital with COVID either stayed there for a really long time, or they didn’t come back. But I tried to be strong for them, even if I had all the same questions they did. 

I told mine and Joey’s parents, friends, family, and coworkers. Prayer chains immediately went into full force. Any information I received from Joey, I sent to family and friends who I knew were praying.

It took all day and into the late evening before Joey would finally get results.

I updated everyone the next morning: “Heard from Joey last night. He has COVID-pneumonia. They’ll do a five-day treatment on him. He could possibly come home on oxygen depending on where he is when he leaves.”

Whew! I breathed a small sigh of relief. I was hoping he would be home sooner, but if he could be treated in five days, I’d take it! Unfortunately…it would be a lot longer than five days.

…to be continued.