I am humbled to share Anna-Lee’s honest and unedited account of her 7-week journey to and from the brink of death. Be sure to watch the video at the end
Part 1 – Getting admitted to hospital
On 08 June 2021 I went for a Covid test. I was nervous but so sure that it wasn’t Covid. I took all the necessary precautions like sanitizing and face masks etc. And with most of our family 2 hours away we hardly ever socialize.
On 09 June 2021 I got the dreaded call from the doctor “you are Covid positive.” I was scared as I have asthma, but the doctor sent medicine from their pharmacy for me to take. Luckily my husband was home that day and we started our self-quarantine. On this day I felt a slight tightness to my chest and fatigue.
Over the following 6 days my symptoms varied. One day I would feel almost 100% fine and the next I would be really, really sick. On days 5 & 6 I started with cold fever ( chills) which were the worst symptoms at the time for me. It would start suddenly and so fast that my hands and feet were ice cold and it would take an hour or more to pass. In between, I took the meds the doctor sent and used the nebulizer 3 times a day to help me breathe easier.
On day 7, 15 June I woke up and did not feel good at all. Diarrhoea had started and I was out of breath just by walking a few steps. I couldn’t speak more than 2 words without taking a breath and it was a very short one as I couldn’t take deep breaths. I also had extreme muscle fatigue. It was an effort to just raise an arm. That’s where I told my husband I think we need to go to the hospital.
So we packed my bag thinking maybe 2 or 3 days I just need some oxygen. Went to the trauma entrance and they told us to go around to the ambulance entrance as that’s where they take Covid patients. It’s a huge gate that leads into what looks like a dark New York style alley. We waited for about 2 minutes when a nurse came to fetch me. I was too weak to carry my own bag so she had to carry it. And Chris couldn’t come along. That’s where we had to say goodbye as he wasn’t allowed inside.
They got me onto a trauma bed and oxygen immediately and started taking my stats. I was almost hypoxic, which means my oxygen levels were so low that I wasn’t getting enough oxygen to my cells and organs. They gave me this green mask with a balloon thing at the bottom of the mask and 15liters of oxygen. It helped a bit but I was scared, alone and not sure what was going to happen.
They then put me in a wheelchair with an oxygen cylinder as they need to do a chest X-ray and CAT scan of my lungs and they also took blood to get tested. My Xray and scan came back showing severe scarring and inflammation on my lungs and my blood showed that my infection levels were at 270 (around there) but it should be 5. They started admitting me to the hospital and I waited about 4 hours for a bed before they took me up to the Covid ward.
Part 2 – The Covid Wards
After the 4 hours of waiting they wheeled me up to the Covid wards which is closed off from other wards with red tape and plastic sheets hanging from the roof.
I got into my room and bed and met my 3 roommates. We all got along great and spent some time sharing our stories. I had a drip put in and after about 3 days (17 June) of meds and oxygen I had more energy so could get out of bed easier. But I had started to cough up blood mixed with phlegm. Too much movement would cause me to start coughing again. The doctor adjusted my meds and said I had Covid Pneumonia.
I spent a lot of my time sitting in one of the chairs as I just can’t sit in bed for too long. I needed oxygen though to go to the bathroom so had to call a nurse for assistance. They would then connect your oxygen to an oxygen cylinder and escort you to the bathroom. And then the one night the cylinder I had run out of oxygen. I made my way back to my bed, which I can’t remember, and crashed into my bedside table but luckily didn’t fall. My mind was so confused from the lack of oxygen that I had forgotten about the panic button in the bathroom. My roommates called a nurse who quickly put me back on oxygen. They ran out of oxygen cylinders every few days and couldn’t keep up with the demand. So I asked them for an extended oxygen tube which I called my leash. It allowed me to go to and from the bathroom while staying on oxygen and didn’t need to use the oxygen cylinders.
There aren’t enough nurses. The Covid wards are full. People are sick, really sick and all of these nurses are overworked. They cannot be everywhere at once. They even have trainee nurses there to help with smaller stuff. All of them wear the required PPE so you only ever saw their eyes through the plastic visor they wear. But they were always friendly and tried to be helpful. Sometimes they took too long to get to us if we called them. But I understood as there are only so many of them and every bed in that ward is filled. They are on day 6 or 7 of working overtime, they are exhausted, scared and yet they are there and they try their best to be friendly and do their job to the best of their abilities.
I stopped coughing up blood and started to get better on the new meds. So the doctor started to wean me from the oxygen by dropping it to 10 litres for a few days, then 8 litres and eventually we got to 6 litres of oxygen. We removed the mask I was using and received a nasal canula, the tube thingy that goes in your nose. Then I had a setback and my oxygen saturation dropped to 78. It should be 95 or higher and on 24 June they put me back on 15 litres of oxygen. This is the highest level of oxygen the Covid wards can give. The doctor told me our lungs sometimes need more time and not to panic.
I also continued experiencing the Covid symptoms and started feeling that extreme fatigue. Not just sleep but also muscle fatigue. My infection rate had gone down from about 270 to 18. That’s a good sign and closer to the 5 it should be. The doctor explained to me that with Covid it is like a rollercoaster ride, one day up and one day down and could continue for a few months and not to be stressed about it. He also said sometimes our lungs just need more rest and that more oxygen will help the lungs rest more to fight the inflammation.
Part 3 – High Flow Ward and ICU
On 26 June I was no longer doing well on15 litres of oxygen and they moved me to the high flow ward where they can give up to 60 litres of oxygen through a huge, thick pipe in your nose. I spent 1 night here.
On 27 June I was struggling to breathe. I have asthma and had been using my inhalers and medication along with what they have been giving me but nothing seemed to work. Each breath I took was so short my chest hardly moved and they recommended I move to Medical ICU and get put on a ventilator.
By this time my oxygen saturation was in the low 70’s. I immediately agreed on the ventilator when the doctor recommended it as I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to breathe on my own for much longer. I couldn’t speak so I couldn’t phone my husband to tell him what is happening or say bye to him and the kids. So I had to type a Whatsapp to them and as I was so weak it was a one-sentence message. It was even an effort to type on the phone. All I could type was I’m going to ICU and I love them.
Now here I need to explain something. Afterwards, when I was getting better my doctor told me I made the right choice at the right time when I decided to go on on the ventilator. Had I taken too long my oxygen levels would have dropped to the point where my organs started failing. There are so many stories out there about ICU and ventilators that a lot of people are scared to do it. Please don’t believe all the stories and rather educate yourself from accredited websites or speak to a doctor if you need clarity. My doctor told me that a lot of people are scared to go and unfortunately he can’t force them. He can only step in if they say yes or if they can no longer make the decision for themselves. By the time they get them on a ventilator they are not only fighting Covid but organ failure as well. By the time I started to struggle to breathe and they got me to ICU (about 3 hours) I had already sustained injuries to my kidneys. Now imagine someone waiting a day or more to decide and the damage done to their organs because they listened to a story told by someone about how bad ventilators are. Ventilators aren’t bad they are life-saving if you get to one on time.
The nurses worked really fast getting all my stuff thrown in my bags and then they literally ran with me down the hallways to ICU. When we got there it was chaos. There were about 10 people waiting for me each doing something different. One attached a small mask that covered just my nose and mouth. This mask provided so much oxygen that my cheeks puffed out. Another person was removing my clothing. I didn’t even care I just wanted help. Another was putting in a catheter and another a drip etc. While this was happening I talked to God and told Him how scared I was. I said that I would really like to meet Him but for now, I choose life. I have 2 children who need me and still so many things I want to do. Just after that they sedated me. I remember one nurse running her hand over my hair and she said “don’t worry sweetheart we’ve got you.” My husband says they phoned him to come to see me. They didn’t think I was going to make it. When I got to ICU my oxygen saturation was 47 or 48.
My husband had to see me lying on my stomach, not moving and with a machine breathing for me. He basically had to say goodbye. But by the grace of God, I held on and started reacting positively to the treatments they were giving me. Enough so that they turned me onto my back and when my stats held they slowly started bringing me out of sedation. While I was under sedation I don’t remember much. All I remember is floating in an orange-pinkish, cloudy and glittery (yes glitter cause I’m a girl) sky and the heavy presence of God around me. My Mom and Aunt prayed for me during this time along with hundreds of other people, some of who don’t even know me and to whom I am forever grateful. My Aunt told my Mom she could see Jesus sitting by my bedside. He literally performed a miracle and saved my life as there was a few touch and go moments where my stats did not look good and the staff thought they were losing me. I praise God every day for saving my life.
On 03 July my husband sent a message to the family Whatsapp group to say I am now on 45 litres of oxygen, slowly starting to wake up and stats look good. On 05 July the nurses told him that I was wide awake and on 40 litres of oxygen. The force they put the machine on to supply oxygen to my lungs was on 15 and they have brought that down to 14. They did that slowly to avoid any setbacks.
My hands were tied to the bed railings. This is because of the medications they were giving and to prevent the patients from waking up disoriented and pulling out the ventilator themselves. It was hugely frustrating to me as I couldn’t speak and had to learn to speak via sign language. Eventually, I figured out how to show them I want to write something. So they would untie my one hand and give me a bord to write on. That’s where I discovered I had forgotten how to write. My first word was a C with a few dots. But I got it right eventually and could tell them of my needs.
I had many long days and nights in ICU where I could do nothing but lie there with a machine breathing for me, nursing staff cleaning me and just watch and listen to what goes on around me. I had times of despair and times I thought I was not going to make it. In order to heal it is crucial to stay positive and not to be anxious or give up. The moment you are anxious or give up your healing progress slows and your stats start dropping.
Part 4 – The Mind Games and more on ICU
When you’re diagnosed as positive with Covid you don’t just fight the virus but also your own mind. Your mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Whether you are dealing with this at home or at the hospital.
The medical staff always tried to keep me calm and positive when it looked like I was worried, anxious or depressed. Those things can set back your healing if you’re not careful. Being anxious causes your heart to beat faster which means your lungs have to work harder. So it is very important to stay focused, strengthen your mind, stay positive and calm.
That is very difficult to do when you’re in ICU. You can’t really sleep, there are things happening around you constantly. They wake you at 2 am to turn you over to put cream on your back. They are at your bed almost every hour to check your stats and 5 am is wake up time. And in between, you hear patients coughing, or screaming in panic that they can’t breathe. Being on the ventilator there’s not much to do except try to sleep and watch and listen to what goes on around you. Because I’ve been lying still for so long my muscles had gone very weak. I couldn’t do anything for myself and the nurses had to give me a sponge bath in bed each night…bye-bye dignity hehehe. I hated this as I want to do this myself but at the time my hands were still tied to the bed due to the ventilator and I hadn’t yet realized how weak I was. I had a physiotherapist working with me and during the day I could do the leg exercises she gave me to do in bed but couldn’t do any arm exercises.
The part of the ventilator that went into my mouth had this hard plastic thing on the roof (palate) of my mouth. And it could move. So when the nurses washed me they would turn me on my side with the ventilator in my mouth. This was not always fun as I would either start coughing or that hard plastic thing would move to my soft palate and make me want to throw up. And I had to sign language to ask them to move it back in place.
I’ve heard and seen people die not even a few feet away from me. I’ve heard people suffer from this disease. There were quite a few people in ICU who were not on ventilators but clearly needed to be. And I listened to them refuse the doctor every time he suggested ventilation until one day it gets quiet and you don’t hear them coughing anymore. Then the nurses close all the curtains around our beds but I could still see a bit as they weren’t closed properly. The nurses were all super quiet and would form a line of respect for the deceased while that person is taken away. And when our curtains are opened some of them were crying.
And then the mind games start again. Where you get anxious about your own health and are you ever going to make it and get out of there to see your loved ones again. That one is the hardest to deal with. There is no looking forward to seeing your family during visiting hours no matter which ward you’re in. That really gets to a person emotionally and mentally and I’ve seen how that brings people down and slows down their own healing. I eventually asked for anxiety pills and sleeping pills which helped as well.
On the ventilator when your stats are holding and you’re a bit stronger they start switching off the machine so that you start taking over the breathing and do this by yourself. You still get the oxygen but the machine is not doing this for you. And then when you sleep they would put the machine on again so you can sleep. By the end, before they removed the ventilator I was on 15 litres of oxygen and doing all the breathing on my own day and night.
Those long days and nights spent in ICU (17 nights in total) I spent mostly singing praise and worship songs in my head, reciting scriptures in my head or just talking to God. Talking to Him in ways I had never done before. When things went downhill a bit with my stats or I was losing the mental battle and falling into despair I would ask Him why. Why me? Why can’t He just heal me right now 100% and why do I have to go through this. And then I would just feel this peace come over me, a peace I can’t describe in words. And then later I would go back and say okay sorry about earlier God, I was feeling a bit down. Then I would start to focus on those lying around me and start praying for them. God was my anchor physically, mentally and spiritually. And I truly believe that He helped me pull through during my time in ICU.
I had no contact with the outside world while I was in ICU so I had no idea how many people were praying for me and cheering me on to fight. I want to send a deep, heartfelt thanks to each and every one. While God was my anchor, the love I have for my family and extended family and knowing their love for me…that was my strength and I clung to that with every fibre in my body.
When you are in Medical ICU for more than 7 days they allow 1 family member to visit for 10 minutes. Chris came to visit me on 07 July. I almost didn’t recognise him as he had to wear all the PPE the nurses wear. I recognised him by his eyes. He couldn’t touch me but he spoke to me and told me about everyone praying for me and gave me messages from the kids and my parents and siblings. I was still on the ventilator so couldn’t speak but managed to write a few things down that I wanted to say.
That was a big boost mentally for me. I wish there was a way family members could visit their family in the hospital. I saw so many giving up the battle because they got depressed. Seeing your loved ones is a huge boost of positivity and shows you what you need to fight for.
Part 5 – Moving to Surgical ICU
On 09 July they moved me from Medical ICU to Surgical ICU. This is because I was no longer considered Covid positive and they were moving me to where I wouldn’t be exposed to the virus as Surgical ICU does not take anyone who is Covid positive.
Now I thought medical ICU was busy but boy was I wrong. Surgical ICU would get new and very urgent cases coming in at all times of the day or night. The one night at 10 pm they brought in an old man who was still awake and speaking and even climbed onto the bed himself. And the next minute he’s not responding and they are trying to resuscitate him. They worked on him for over 2 hours but they pulled him through. In other cases, they weren’t so lucky. So I didn’t get a lot of rest here.
But each day and each night I would get assigned a nurse who would be looking after me and a few other people. They have this big table next to your bed with huge sheets of paper where they write down every little detail about you. I had this long red plastic line on my arm that went into my wrist and into the main artery. So every 4 hours they would insert a needle in this red line to draw blood as they can judge more accurately how much oxygen is in my blood if it’s taken from the main artery.
I also had a CVP line in my left shoulder. A CVP line is also known as a central line or catheter and is a tube that ends up somewhere in your chest close to a main artery. On the outside it had 3 tubes that looked like those of a drip and these could be used to give fluids, blood or medications or to do medical tests quickly.
And I was getting liquid food via a tube that went through my nose to my stomach. On the day they moved me to Surgical ICU the liquid food was making me feel nauseous and I threw up 4 times. Throwing up while still attached to a ventilator was not fun. I thought I was going to die and this was the first time I cried. My hands are tied to the bed and I can’t talk to tell them. The best I could do was lean as far over the bed as I could hoping I don’t get anything on me or the bedding.
Then they had to clean me up every time which was exhausting. And rinse and suction my mouth. I hated that the most as they don’t suction the water fast enough and it runs down your throat and it feels like you’re going to suffocate. And at the same time, I felt grateful for that little bit of water running down my throat as you don’t eat or drink anything while on the ventilator. I spent many moments daydreaming about the gallons of water I was going to drink when the ventilator came out. Through all of this, the medical staff kept helping me and trying to keep me calm, helped me get cleaned up etc.
Only after this and once I got to Surgical ICU was I able to get my hands on my phone. I was so weak I had to prop up the phone and with one shaky finger typed a message to the family group to say hi. The nurse watching over me agreed to untie my one hand so I could use my phone as she was constantly there. My family hadn’t heard from me since 27 June when I went into ICU and their responses were so heartwarming and encouraging.
Through all this, I kept on speaking openly and honestly to God. I know now He wants to use my testimony not only to show people the miracle He performed in my life but also to educate people on the virus and what actually goes on inside the hospital.
On 10 July I got the best news from my doctor, my infection count is down to 8 and I’m doing so well they can remove the ventilator. I was overjoyed. But good grief removing that thing is something out of a horror movie. Along with the ventilation pipe, there is another pipe, the one they use for suction if there is any moisture build up in the pipes or phlegm you need to cough up. The problem with this is they insert a suction pipe that literally steals your air and forces you to cough until tears run down your face. So first they removed the feeding tube that was in my nose which wasn’t too bad. But then to remove the tube from my throat they had to do the suction thing 3 times and each time they did that more of the pipe is removed.
And oh my goodness the sounds my vocal cords were making. I sounded like Schmiegl from the Lord of the Rings movies. But finally, it came out and I received a nasal canula and 10 litres of oxygen which the doctor gradually brought down over the next few days whilst monitoring every stat under the sun to make sure I’m stable. And at least they could untie my hands, finally.
Remember the gallons of water I was longing for? That didn’t happen as I had to learn again how to swallow food and water without choking or getting any of it into my lungs. So I was on a clear liquid diet for two days. I also could not use a knife and fork and had to teach myself and practice how to hold the utensils correctly with very shaky hands. I was super careful with everything and made sure to eat and drink very slowly.
I started on the hand and arm exercises the physio gave me. I couldn’t lift my arms above my head or use them much And my whole body was very shaky especially my hands and fingers. The physio explained that for every 24 hours of lying still my muscles and receptors had basically gone dormant and forgot how to work. That’s when I knew I’m going to have to learn all over how to do everything, including walking.
Part 6 – Moving to the General Wards and Going Home
On 14 July they moved me from ICU to the general wards. What a feeling knowing I pulled through and that I can now really focus on healing. Every day I open my eyes I thank God first for another day that I’m alive. I will never take anything for granted again. As soon as I got there I sent a video call to my husband and saw him and the kids for the first time again. The joy that lit up those little faces was priceless. From there we had 2 video calls a day which helped a bit with the loneliness and being homesickness.
On 15 July my oxygen was turned down to 2 litres of oxygen and my stats were stable. I was well on my way to healing and according to the staff a walking miracle.
And so began my physio journey. I was given exercises to do for my legs and arms to strengthen them a bit more. And then I got to sit up on the side of the bed for the first time in weeks. That felt so good and the physio encouraged me to do this at mealtimes so I can build up strength but not overdo it with my lungs. Then she handed me a walking frame and said we are only going to practice standing and sitting. It became clear to me very quickly just how weak I was.
I managed to stand with the support of the physio and walking frame. The bed height was adjustable and we found that a higher height was easier for me to handle. On 16 July I gave my first steps. It was amazing to me how dumb and heavy my muscles felt but I walked a few steps with the walker and physio supporting me.
This is where I learned to celebrate the small victories to help build morale. And I had 3 great roommates who were my cheerleaders. Then on the same day, my heart started beating really fast. I wasn’t sure why as mentally I was calm and feeling fine. So they had to do an EKG to monitor me and gave me medication for it. The doctor explained that this happens with Covid patients and takes time to go away. I’m currently on medication to avoid this. But again small victory, my infection count was down to 6, woohoo.
And also on the same day late that afternoon, I develop a fever of 39.2 that wouldn’t come down. They drew blood, took a urine sample and a chest X-ray to check everything. I had a secondary infection in my bladder due to the catheter so they had to remove the catheter and started me on a hectic course of antibiotics that could only be given by drip. And then my dignity suffered a bit more when I was given a nappy to wear…yes a nappy. Because I couldn’t walk yet and the toilet was too low for me to get up from.
On 19 July I managed to walk around my bed twice using the walking frame. The general wards are much more peaceful and quiet at night so I was also getting much more sleep. With the help of the physio, I started walking the length of our room using the walker, doing more rounds every day.
On 25 July I got up off the bed not using the walker, only the support of the physio by holding her one hand and her other hand holding my waist. I was walking, slowly and got out of breath fast but I was walking without the walker. And then on 27 July, I walked completely on my own with no support from the physio. I was progressing with my physio at an amazing rate and all the other physio ladies who knew me and worked with me from day 1 were amazed at my progress. I could even go to the toilet as I needed only a little assistance in getting up. Another small victory and another something small I’ll never take for granted.
On 29 July, 45 days after being admitted I was discharged from the hospital at about 4 pm. I was beyond excited to see my husband and children and just knew I was going to ugly cry. They put me in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank as I still need to be on 2 litres of oxygen for a while, while I build up my muscle strength so that my lungs don’t get hurt. And then down the lift, we went and outside. Outside. I was outside in the sun and fresh air and right there was my husband. It was so amazing to see him again to be able to touch him.
The kids were waiting back home with our neighbour watching them. There were brightly coloured I Love You balloons hanging from our gate and we were still waiting for the gate to open when my 9-year-old daughter was at my car window. We both started crying and holding onto each other. This is the first time in all this time that my daughter broke down crying. She and my 12-year-old son were both troopers through this whole ordeal, staying calm and helping their dad.
Then they waited for me to get out of the car and walk to the bedroom. As soon as I sat down they were next to me cuddling and crying. Well, my daughter and I were crying. My 12 year old just kept hugging me and telling me it’s okay to cry and everything is going to be okay. That night my husband helped me into the most wonderful bubble bath and washed my hair for the first time in weeks. Dry shampoo can do only so much. And then the kids took turns to blow drying my hair and combing it out.
And now on 05 August, I can walk without any assistance but I do still need help getting up from lower surfaces, which my husband helps with. But every day we see improvement and that I’m getting stronger. Today I could dress myself for the first time. Last night I could shower on my own, I just needed help with my feet as I can’t quite reach my feet yet when I’m standing.
I have very few Covid symptoms at the moment, mostly a recurring headache and then a sore and irritated throat. But the doctor said that is because of the ventilator pipe and it’s going to take a while for my throat and vocal cords to heal. I still don’t sound quite like myself, my voice is a few octaves lower than usual but it’s getting there.
One step at a time, one day at a time. But I will do whatever it takes to get back to normal again so I can live my life to the best of my ability, appreciating everything and not taking anything for granted. Thank you, Lord Jesus for helping me pull through, for not leaving my side and sending comfort in some of the darkest moments of my life.
Part 7 – Our Frontline Workers
I needed to add this last part. I’ve been on the other side and I’ve seen what happens and how sick this virus makes people.
But I’ve also seen our doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, lab technicians, radiology technicians, cleaning staff etc. come to work day after day knowing what they are going to see and knowing the patient or patients they just spoke to yesterday might not be there anymore when they get to work the next day.
They are dedicated, but they are also so tired. Some of them have worked more days overtime than their actual shift time. Sometimes they don’t even get a chance to eat because they are running from room to room and patient to patient.
But they are short-staffed and doing the absolute best they can. And they are scared. They have families to go home to after each shift and they don’t want to stand a chance of infecting them so they either self isolate themselves when they get home or have other measures in place. The doctor they assigned me is, in my eyes, one of the best. If I had a question he would take the time to patiently explain my question to me. In my 45 days in the hospital, he only took off 2 days. The rest of the time I saw him every day.
I’ve seen them laugh and make jokes in the hallways, a good way to deal with everything they see on a daily basis. I’ve seen them form long lines of respect down the hallways when someone who didn’t make it is rolled away. I’ve seen them cry because they have lost yet another one. I’ve seen them pray together at every shift change, put on brave faces and go about their work with a smile on their faces to encourage their patients.
In ICU they spent time encouraging me, singing songs to me or dancing for me or just talking to me. And in the general wards where I could speak, I eventually learned the names of all the nurses on the day and night shifts in my ward just to show them in a small way how I appreciate their care.
And nothing was too much trouble for them, they would tell me time and again they are there to help me. Sometimes they took long to answer if I called. But I understood because every bed in that hospital was full and there are not enough nurses. But I honestly cannot fault their care of me in any way while I was with them.
Our frontline workers deserve a lot more respect from us. You have read the things I’ve experienced. Now imagine having to see that daily. It’s literally your job to go to work and be traumatized by what you see. Most of us have no idea the trauma and stress these people go through. I salute each and every one of them and will be keeping them in my prayers.
Thanks so much to everyone who followed my journey. It’s still an ongoing journey but at least I can walk now without any assistance. Just short distances but we take it one day at a time and have positive thoughts. Still working on standing up on my own from lower surfaces but at least today I was able to dress myself without assistance. Celebrate your small and your big victories.
I hope my story helped you better understand what goes on, on the other side and how dangerous this virus really is. Don’t listen to all the fear-mongering on social media but rather educate yourself from sources that are accredited or personal experiences like mine.
It is my hope and prayer that this will soon be over and we can all return to normal…a new normal yes but that has got to be better than what we are all going through right now. If you have any questions at all feel free to message me and please feel free to share my story.