Trena Eiden

Last fall, my elderly client’s niece came for a visit from Kentucky and brought with her what we thought was a cold. After she left, my client, all my coworkers and I came down with it, two testing positive for Covid. I didn’t get tested, but instead, merrily gave the disease to Gar. I was off work for a week, then recovered enough to return at maybe 70%, about normal. Ha.  

Gar tested negative for Covid, but couldn’t seem to shake the illness with week after week after week of coughing spasms, fatigue, shortness of breath and feeling unwell. Even though he had many doctor visits, chest X-rays and being put on two antibiotics and oxygen, his physician couldn’t pin-point anything. I got home from work one Wednesday evening, looked at Gar still struggling to breathe, and announced, “Tomorrow morning, we’re putting you in an ambulance so you’ll have portable oxygen, and we’re hauling you to a pulmonologist.” 

In the hospital, the pulmonologist ran several dozen tests for every lung disease known to man, including another negative chest X-ray, two CT scans, breathing treatments, and a multi-cord heart monitor system. Gar had oxygen screenings, an IV with multiple drips, saline, steroids, and several more antibiotics. He was hooked up to so many appliances that it took some time to undo him in order to shuffle to the bathroom. That night, we decided instead of calling a nurse, it would be quicker if I just assisted him and he could use the urinal at bedside.  

I was sleeping on a cot the width of a butter knife at the end of Gar’s bed and had gotten up with him at midnight as the IV did its job. The second time at 3 a.m., I must have been really sleeping soundly, because I awoke with a start. It was Gar needing my help. Groggily, I stumbled to his side and hoarsely asked how many times he’d had to call me? He said, “Well, I said, ‘Trena’ about 15 times, then I said, ‘Mom’ and you jumped right up.”  

The next day, it was decided Gar would have an injectable and an inhalation steroid while getting a bronchoscopy with a wash. This is a process where they go down and have a look-see before launching saline into your lungs. Then they take out some of the fluid and send it to the lab, testing each molecule to see what’s what. The saline coming out is like something from a spook movie. When we were told what was going to transpire, the doctor said, “We put water in then take it out” like it’s so effortless, they do it every morning while sipping a vanilla latte. Ya, no. They only take some of the fluid out, you have to do the rest. A little detail they never mentioned, and with good reason. When you wake up from the procedure, you’re automatically into a fit of coughing, choking, gagging and somewhat throwing up, because when there’s anything foreign, like WATER introduced into your lungs, your body says, “What in the hell are you doing?”  

I texted our kids often, keeping them updated, and when I told them what had transpired and that Gar felt he’d been waterboarded, our Esjae texted his dad, “We got mom’s update. I think I found what’s wrong. The doctor’s putting water in your lungs. That’s why you can’t breathe.” My kids do not think I’m funny, but they certainly think they are.  

Our doctor son asked how his dad’s appetite was. I said, “Not that great, possibly because there’s no Little Debbie Donuts in sight.” Eventually, Gar started to feel slightly better and began eating. He was obviously sad to be released from the hospital and go home to my cooking, because at one point he actually said, and I quote, “It’s nice to get a good meal for a change.” I studied him a second and said, “I’m going out on a limb and assume you’re referring to when you weren’t eating, but now that you are, the food tastes good, because otherwise, I’d be plotting how many times I could put those hated avocados in your mashed potatoes.” He laughed. I didn’t.  

That afternoon the nurse came in and asked if Gar was wearing his oxygen all the time. I said, “Yes.” Then she asked if he was able to keep it on at night? Without mirth, I deadpanned, “Sure, I just put a pillow over his face and it stays pretty well.”