Marvin

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA: I was shot by sniper fire when I was overseas. It went through the vest, bounced off of my rib, and didn't hit any vital organs. Being shot, I mean, it was scary, but I can get back to normal. But dealing with COVID, there’s gonna be some long-term effects, you know.

Mardi Gras came. When you have Mardi Gras parades, they’re all up on each other in crowds. People are in clubs and whatnot. A lot of them were not wearing masks. Some people said, “If you gonna get it, you gonna get it. You gotta die someday.” The more people in the city, the more it spreads around because you don’t know who’s asymptomatic. 

I think people started getting it then, but I don't think I got it then. I didn't have the symptoms till a little bit after Mardi Gras. During those days, I was doing DoorDash going from restaurant to restaurant. There may have been people in there who had it, and it spread.

I wound up pushing myself too hard. I was volunteering at my son’s school, making my Indian suit, and at night I would do DoorDash. So I was spreading myself thin. I wasn't getting enough sleep. My immune system dropped. 

When I started feeling bad, I was cold. I had diarrhea. I was kind of off-balance. I felt kind of shaky. I had chills. I had a constant headache. I started being fatigued. I wasn’t eating as much as I usually do. And then I spiked an extreme fever. I wasn't thinking it was COVID. 

I went to the VA [Veteran’s Affairs], and they said I was barely breathing. I was really having a hard time breathing. They were like, “Well, you have a respiratory infection.” So they gave me some medicine. I went home, took the medicine, and I still didn’t feel right. So I went back the very next day. They said, “Well, you got to give it a chance to take effect, you know, you got to give it some time.”

On the third day, I spiked an extremely high temperature. That drew a red flag. So I went back to the hospital, and they triaged me. The nurse was like, “Hey, you got COVID.” Then, she put me in a room isolated by myself and gave me some medicine. I don't remember what happened after that. But my friend and my mom said I called them and said they were admitting me into ICU. I would hear stuff.   But I never knew what was going on because they put me in an induced coma.

Recently, I got a chance to talk to a doctor who took care of me. He told me everything. When I came in, I had a ten percent chance to live. Out of 66 patients, me and two other people lived. I was the youngest severe case that they had at the V.A. My kidneys started failing. My liver started failing. My lungs started shutting down. I went into cardiac arrest. 

There's this thing called Indian red. It's an Indian prayer that we do before we open up Indian practice, before we close Indian practice, before we hit the streets, and when there's a funeral. When I was lying in the hospital, I could hear Indian red being sung. I saw darkness, and I felt my feathers. I thought, “Hey, something’s not right. Please don’t tell me I'm dead.” Then, I saw myself lying in bed with the ventilator tubes connected to me.  

Here's the weird thing. My mom went over to my place to take care of my dogs, and she brought my son. She went to do something in the back of my apartment. When she came out, my son was standing in front of my Indian suit doing some type of prayer and chanting in front of my Indian suit. A week later, I came back through. During that time, I started worrying about my son and started seeing my son in the back of my mind. 

When I came back through, I was strapped down to the bed, and I couldn't move. I had the ventilator on me, and  I was having trouble breathing because I was choking on my mucus. So I started kicking my legs to make the machine go off. They rushed in, pulled the ventilator tube, and started suctioning. They kept me on it for a while. And they put a C-PAP on me, but I still had to stay there. 

All my veins had been blown out so they had to  go into my neck, into the mainline, to give blood and medicine. So I couldn't talk. I wasn't able to make any type of noise, nothing. All I could do was signal. I had to learn how to talk, eat, and walk again. 

Once I actually started talking, I told the nurse,” I gotta get out of here because I got to see my son. He's with my mom. He's in good hands. I know that. But there’s nothing like me being there with him. And I know he's worried about me.” So I just prayed, asked God, “Pull me through. Make me stronger where I can get out of here.” 

I went through physical therapy. They had to do my little rehab, get me to walk. They were going to send me to another rehab center out in Mississippi, but my mom and my grandmother were there for me so I could come home, and they took care of me. 

Not being able to see my family and my son was the hardest part. Worrying about my son, you know, because with me being away from him, that was like a big, big worry that really worried me. To him, I'm his superhero. 

I got released later on down the line. He was so happy to see me, he ran up, and he hugged me. He was excited to see me because I'd been gone for so long, and he was worried. 

When I first came home, just going up the stairs to my door felt like I was walking eight blocks. It was that bad. Every once in a while, I still had to use the oxygen because I was short of breath because I still have scar tissue in my lungs. I've gotten to the point where I go out on the lakefront, and I walk and with my mom and my son and my nephew, and then I do my rehab.  

I wound up sustaining some damage while I was in the hospital: I got a hole in the top of my lip where they gashed through it when they were trying to vent me. So I had a big ole hole, and it wound up making a kiloed. And I have nerve damage. 

Every day is a process of trying to get my condition back together. I'm just glad to be here. I'm just trying to get back to normal, get back to normal.  

I just keep my faith in God. When I get up every morning, I pray and thank God for allowing me to see another day. And I thank God for allowing my son to be strong. That's my little warrior. That's my motivation right there. He's my inspiration. I don't think I would be here if it weren’t for him. I think he's my purpose.