Northshore magazine showcases the best that the North Shore of Boston, MA has to offer.
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NORTHSHOREMAG.COM 36 OCTOBER 2020 FAC E S + P L AC E S Steven's passing and in the hope that I would survive this dreadful virus. I did not know any of this, because for 31 days, I was sedated, intubated with a machine breathing for me, and given paralytics to place me in a medically induced coma; I also received a blood transfusion and multiple medicinal combinations to help me fight the infections and to preserve my major organs— all in an effort to save my life. During that time, I nearly died twice— once with a very serious cardiac episode that resulted in the hospital requesting a DNR from my family, and then again as a result of a secondary infection. For 35 days, I had horrific hallucinations and nightmares. Throughout all those visions, Steven appeared quietly and reassuringly in the corner of the room, never saying a word, just smiling peacefully at me, knowingly, saying, "You are going to be all right." Even though I did not consciously know that my 58-year-old, healthy husband had died, I was sure of it, as a result of him coming to me in that way. During this entire 65-day ordeal, I was in the ICUs of both Winchester Hospital and Lahey Hospital and Medical Center. After I came out of Lahey, I spent three weeks of therapy at Spaulding Rehab in Cambridge, where I worked on getting my strength back, learned how to walk again, and began preparing myself to navigate my new, COVID-19 world. On May 21, I was released into the loving care of my sister, Sandi, and her family, where I continued to recuperate in the safety of their home for another four months. Throughout this time, I was trying to process the deep losses I had endured. Now, as I return to my home in Lynnfield, I am getting ready for re-entry into my life, or at least what we are calling "the new normal." I am working on strengthening myself, both physically and emotionally, for this next chapter. I recognize that I am entering uncharted waters. I know that in the wake of this extraordinary experience, life is going to be markedly different now, without my husband, and in the wake of having been so ill. But I walk forward, taking one day—and sometimes, one step—at a time. Until we have a vaccine, or a cure for COVID-19, I will continue to tell my story, because if it saves even one life, it will be worth the pain of reliving the emotional landscape of these past six months. I am eternally grateful to the countless people who were there for Steven's and my families. You lifted us up and sustained us in our darkest moments. Your support fostered strength and resiliency in us that we did not know we were cable of harnessing. We could not have survived this horrific ordeal without the outpouring of love and support from the North Shore community and from around the world. I would be remiss if I did not say that I owe my life to the many medical professionals who risked their own lives during this pandemic to bring me (and many others) through the ordeal of COVID-19. These loving strangers stood in for my family and friends; they held my hand in my darkest hours; and they spoke to me so lovingly during the achingly remote isolation I experienced while in their care. I am blessed to have found a grief counselor, who is carefully and competently shepherding me through this process. I am living in the balance of facing this unimaginable grief and, at the same time, experiencing extraordinary gratitude not only for having survived my near-death illness, but also for having had the great love I shared with Steven for almost 30 years. As I said when I woke up, tomorrow is promised to no one. Please wear your mask. Be safe, for yourself and for others. At the close of my interview with the Greater Beverly Chamber of Commerce, I said something that resonated with so many people: "You do not want to have to have your niece make you a mask for your husband's funeral with his initials monogrammed on it. I love this mask. I treasure it, and I hope you never have to have one made." FAC E S + P L AC E S Karen and her sister Sandi, who helped Karen recuperate once she was released from the hospital