On the Porch
Onisha Ellis
I spoke with my son on the phone yesterday. I never take that for granted. You see, in September of 2021 my son had Covid really bad. As on a ventilator bad. The prognosis wasn’t good. In his early 40s he had tons of co-morbidities. He was in a local community hospital and eventually transferred by helicopter to a major medical center over 300 miles away. (Truly a God thing.)
And as per Protocol, no one could be with him. It was traumatic for those who love him. But praise God, after more than two weeks in the hospital he was off the ventilator and able to go home.
Here is what I want to share. As we talked about his time in the hospital, he said he didn’t remember anything. Not going to the local hospital, not been intubated. Nothing except being asleep and having weird dreams.
We were devastated that he was alone. My mother heart could barely endure that.without the comfort that only God can give, I don’t think I could have endured it at all. Yet, our son doesn’t recall experiencing any anxiety.
As we talked I felt that sharing his experience might bring comfort to the heart of someone whose loved one didn’t survive and was alone.
I truly don’t know if his experience was the norm, but I hope it was.
After my retirement, I decided to re-learn the canning and preserving skills I learned from my mother but hadn’t practiced for twenty years. I titled the blog Old Things R New to chronicle my experience. Since then I have been blessed to have six other bloggers join me, DiVoran Lites, Bill Lites, Judy Wills, Louise Gibson, Janet Perez Eckles and Melody Hendrix
In addition to blogging, I work as the publicist/marketer/ amateur editor and general “mom Friday” for my author daughter, Rebekah Lyn. I also manage her website, Rebekah Lyn Books
My 2022 goal is continue to use my love of photographs and words to be an encourager on social media.
Old Things R New 
Alta, I was quite touched by your post. Along the same vein – I don’t know whether or not Bill ever told you that our mother died from pneumonia. The only thing our step-father said was that she sat up in bed and told him she couldn’t breathe. That has disturbed me for more years than I can tell you. And then, a very good friend of ours, who had cancer, told of how she “couldn’t breathe” at a family outing. Her oldest daughter was a doctor and was present. Her youngest daughter was a nurse, and was present. They were finally able to get her to breathing again, and her comment was that she felt like she was floating – not “drowning.” That has helped me so very much in the recent years, to know that my mother didn’t suffer in those hours before she died.
You may not think my thoughts connect with your story, but your story brought the thoughts of my mother’s situation.
Thanks…and I hope you had a great Thanksgiving! Judy
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Any mother with a loved one in trouble would be comforted to know your son’s story. It’s a beautiful post. Thank you for it.
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