Maya

NISKAYUNA, NEW YORK - November 2, 2021: I've never had any preexisting conditions. I was healthy in the setup of the New Year. I just wanted to get healthier with more exercise. Early in March, I was going to the gym. I wanted to get healthier in the new year. When I went into the sauna, it hit me like a Mack truck, and I could just feel it coming over me. I didn't know what it was. All I could tell myself is, “You've got to get out of here. You got to get out of here.” So I washed my hands and got my stuff, and I headed to my car, and I got home. 

Now that was Friday the 13th and Saturday the 14th, I got up, and I strangely did not feel well. For me to take myself to the emergency room, something has got to be seriously wrong with me because I'm not the type of person to get up and just run to the emergency room. I started to dehydrate, and I had diarrhea and body chills. I went to the hospital. My oxygen must have been in the 80s because I was given some oxygen, and I was so dehydrated that I was given two IV bags. I asked for a test for the coronavirus, and it was as if I was asking for gold. They didn't really want to give it to me. So they gave me the pneumonia test at first, and I tested negative for pneumonia. They took the coronavirus test and because they hadn’t learned about it much yet, they said,  “We have to wait until Monday from the Department of Health to get the test results back, and they will call you.” 

Monday morning at seven o'clock, the Department of Health calls the emergency room and says, “You tested positive for the coronavirus.” I started to lose my taste of smell, my appetite, and I started with a fever. Come Wednesday, I started to die of respiratory failure from my feet up. But I didn't know it. I still had diarrhea, a fever, body chills, headaches, and tasting nothing. And so I would start to hallucinate. 

By Thursday, I completely stopped eating, and Friday, I couldn't walk anymore. I'm starting to turn blue. When we got to the hospital, my oxygen must've been in the toilet in the 60s, dropped 20 from the week before. All I can remember is getting wheeled in there and then counting down five, four, three, two, one. 

I was one of the first young females in upstate New York to get Covid at such a severe level. This was when they said only old people would be infected, and then I’m a young female. So they took it more seriously after that.

My family was terrified. My mom, my dad, everyone was terrified. Everyone had prayer groups, and my husband waited to see if today was the day that he would have to come and say goodbye. He was told to bring our daughter home from college to say goodbye to her mom. But that's not the story. That's not the ending.

I was one of the first young females in upstate New York to have the drug Remdesivir tried on me. They gave me the ten-day dose, and it worked. That following week, Dr. Fauci called my room from the White House. I was on the ventilator, so I couldn't speak to him. So the caseworker and the physical therapist spoke to him. It was very brief. He just asked, “How is she doing? Is she responsive? Is she awake?”

I woke up 35 later, and I had a stay of 69 days in the hospital. I almost died of Covid three times of respiratory failure because my lungs had collapsed. I had no idea what was happening. I thought I had a stroke. I didn't know I was in a coma for Covid. I was lonely, and I was losing hope. I would ask, “Can I see my husband?” And they would tell me, “No.” And I'm like, “Why not?”

I was in so much pain; my body felt like shards of fiberglass. I didn't have movement in my legs, my feet, or my arms. I had loss of taste, loss of smell, and I lost the function of being able to swallow. I lost my hair. I lost my voice. 

I wanted to walk out of that hospital. So they wheeled me about fifty yards to the exit door, and then I got up off of that wheelchair, and I walked out, and everyone was applauding. When I went in, I had my winter coat on. When I came out, it was a beautiful, sunny day. 

I'm never going to be the way I used to be. I'm embracing who I've become. I'm walking with a cane now. I'm working with a linguistic therapist to help me to speak again better. I had a speech therapist because I had to learn how to swallow all over again and eat because I was tube fed for over 55 days. I wear this watch now to check my heartbeat. Sometimes just walking or talking, my heart just elevates. A lot of times, I get tremors. I started to lose my memory. I suffer from brain fog. I'm still trying to lift weights. I'm about three pounds. I can carry a dinner plate, my own dinner plate, which I'm really proud of, but I can't carry a basket of laundry. I get injections every four weeks in my keloid scars because I got infected from the ventilator. 

There are people who have it worse than me. I have my trach scar that I don't like how it looks. It's embarrassing to me. But, you know, it's okay because it's a badge of honor. I lost my hair, but now I'm like, “I have a new look.” I know it's okay because it's a transition. When my oxygen level went to 60, that is similar to brain damage. But by the grace of God, somehow, I didn’t suffer from brain damage. I have been given a light and hope, a torch to see that beacon for others. 

By sharing my story, I've given some hope and some dignity and pride back to some people in the hospital, the wing I was at so that people could feel quality of life and know that people care even when your hope seems so dark. 

When I was in a coma, there were thousands of people lifting me up. I have to return that favor somehow. I feel indebted and grateful for it.