She shared her notes with us. This is their story.
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It was April 6 — Day 12 of his illness. He woke up looking pale, unable to catch his breath. He told his wife he needed to go to the ER.
He had learned he was positive for the coronavirus the day before.
There were no goodbyes.
No hugs.
Hospital workers told her to go home and quarantine, and that someone would be in touch. bit.ly/3j0mgra
Daily chest X-rays showed no signs of improvement.
Sedated, he was losing weight and placed on a feeding tube. He was given medications to counteract other medications.
That’s about when the hallucinations began. bit.ly/3j0mgra
His imagination conjured up a Nigerian hit squad. Texas Rangers. A Mexican cartel. A black ops team.
He was convinced he was in a flying hospital.
The doctor asked Arredondo if he knew where he was. He did.
Greene called and asked if he knew who she was. “My wife Tyra,” he said. bit.ly/3j0mgra
“We squeezed each other’s hands as we drove home and nothing else mattered,” Greene’s notes said. bit.ly/3j0mgra
During the first three months of the pandemic, the county saw a dozen people with the coronavirus die. That number has soared to 123. bit.ly/3j0mgra
His feet and toes have remained numb, but he hasn’t had lingering psychological issues. He never needed to go to physical therapy. bit.ly/3j0mgra
This week, he’s calling them again. He wants to donate his plasma. bit.ly/3j0mgra