As I post this, I will be on a reflective walk to remember a difficult time.
This is a story that many people have heard before. It all started on September 4, 2020, when my oldest brother tested positive for the Covid19 virus. This was a time when there were no known effective treatments or vaccines available. He had to isolate himself until he was no longer showing any symptoms. According to common wisdom, if you could make it through 11 days from the diagnosis without experiencing major symptoms, chances were that you would be fine. September 15 would be Day 11.
For the most part, I received good reports about my brother: oxygen levels were good, temperature was mostly good, and no breathing problems. I remained cautiously optimistic. We just needed to get to day 11.
On the afternoon of September 14th, I received a report that my brother was feeling a bit agitated and had a slight fever. He was given something to help reduce his temperature. I was disappointed he still had a slight fever as I wanted all symptoms gone. Unfortunately, this would be the last report I received.
At approximately 2:00 am, I was awoken by the sound of the doorbell and my dog’s barking. When I opened the door, I was met by a local police officer who delivered the unfortunate news that my brother had passed away in his sleep. Regrettably, he became the 200th person in South Dakota to succumb to COVID-19.
It’s been four years since this happened. This day brings up a lot of emotions, but most of all, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. I mourn the fact that my brother spent the last 10 days of his life in isolation. I grieve for the many who lost their lives to this virus. It’s heartbreaking that a virus became a tool for political gain. But above all, I miss my brother dearly. Although I didn’t visit him as often as I should have, he was always in my thoughts.
Sireadh Toileachas 