ADG-2

My friend Kathryn finally made it off the respirator a week ago. During her ICU time I and other friends left her voicemails that the nurses played for her.

This week I had live phone calls with her. Pep talks. You know. There was even talk of her going home today if a wee bit of fever subsided. She left me a voicemail early Friday evening after I fell asleep, letting me know she was bored. How nice to be bored after beating back this covid19 bitch.

And then tragically she suffered a pulmonary embolism later Friday night. She’s gone. I feel like someone has stomped my guts out. And I’m angry. Angry about the politicization of this health crisis.

We are all upside down with this pandemic. Socially, economically, and any and every other way we can be upended. I don’t see having another billable consulting event in 2020. Period. The revenue switch is off. But I’m still here. Alive and healthy and so is Lily and her mom. So we will be fine.

My friend Kathryn had to be intubated and placed on a ventilator last night. A week ago she was battling Covid-19 at home describing it as a wicked respiratory flu.

She was then admitted to the hospital over the weekend with labored breathing and placed on oxygen via a nasal canula. By Wednesday she’d developed hospital acquired pneumonia.

Yesterday afternoon she just couldn’t properly oxygenate. And now she’s in deep sedation and on a ventilator.

49 degrees. Top down on the GW Parkway. Blowing any and all residual Covid-69 thangs outta my buggy.

En route to fetch LFG from the airport. College of Charleston is shut.