Please Help Save John.
Donation protected
WHO WE ARE
My name is Andrea, and the photo above is of my Husband, John. He's your average guy. He loves pizza and video games, sci-fi movies and all types of music. He works full-time at Walmart, unloading trucks and stocking shelves. He loves animals, especially cats, and is the best man I have ever known. I've been blessed to have him as a part of my life.
WHAT HAPPENED
On January 18th I had to call an ambulance for John. He'd been sick for several days, and we simply thought he'd caught the flu. But the night of the 18th he had a fever of 103.6, he was shivering and panting like he couldn't catch his breath.
The EMT's took him to Saint Francis Eastside, and honestly, since John is normally very healthy, I thought that they might keep him overnight to bring down his fever and give him fluids, but that he'd be home in a day or two.
By the next morning, when the hospital finally called me, they'd had to intubate him and he had technically died. They had lost his pulse three times and had to perform CPR to bring him back each time. They then moved him to the ICU, where he spent several hours with a blood oxygen of 20%.
They had wanted to move him to their Downtown location, which had better equipment and specialists available, but every Doctor that saw him said that he wouldn't survive the transport.
For the next week he stayed in the ICU, in a medically induced coma. His Doctors and Nurses kept trying to prepare me for the fact that he would most likely not survive this. They were still having problems keeping his blood oxygenated, and even if he did survive, they believed that brain damage from lack of oxygen would be a certainty.
They also saw what looked like a blood clot in his heart, and gave him what they call a "clot buster" drug, which caused him to bleed profusely from his nose, mouth, ears, etc.
When I finally got to visit him I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He was unconscious, lifeless. There was dried blood caked to his skin. They had him hooked to countless machines and IV's. I counted 14 different pumps that were giving him medications intravenously.
I sat with him, and rubbed his arm, and talked to him. I tried to believe that subconsciously he could hear me, or somehow know that I was there. I kept begging him not to leave me and telling him that I loved him.
Just before all of this happened we had sat down and watched Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 together, and he had fallen in love with Baby Groot. My Mom later bought me a plush one, and I took that to the hospital and asked the Nurse to please put it somewhere that John would see it in case he ever woke up, just so he would know that I had been there.
Before I left, I held his hand, and I remember saying that as much as I wanted him to fight, wanted him to stay with me, that if it was too hard, or if it hurt too much, and he needed to let go, I would understand. But it killed me to think that this might be the last time that I would see his face, or touch his hand.
By January 21st John was still in the ICU, still in a coma, and I was informed by his Doctors that his kidneys had failed. They needed my consent to begin dialysis. Again I was reminded that his situation was grim, and that the likelihood of him surviving this was next to non-existent.
Although he was still listed as critical, they did finally feel that he was stable enough to risk moving him to the hospital downtown, which went well, and it gave him access to things like a pulmonologist and a nephrologist.
The same day that they transferred him to the Downtown hospital, I was admitted to the Eastside hospital, where John had been. I had an Upper Respiratory Infection, and was in the hospital myself for over a week.
The staff there took wonderful care of me, and every single person that came into my room asked how my Husband was doing. They had heard about what had happened to him, and they knew all about his stay in the ICU. They tried their best to support me as I worried about him, and to alleviate my fears when I was scared that he would never get better.
I spoke with one of the Chaplains at the hospital, a very kind man who wanted me to tell him about John. I told him about the time when we were younger, and I had nowhere to live. John was living with his Grandmother, he asked her if I could stay with them, and when she said no, he left his nice warm house and came to live with me on the street during a Maryland blizzard.
I also told him about the time that I was in a coma, after having surgery, and the Doctors thought that I wasn't going to make it, and tried to tell John that it might be a good time to say goodbye. John refused to believe it. He told my Nurse "You don't know her. She's a fighter!" Because John has always had faith in me.
The Chaplain and I sat and talked about John for quite a while. All of the wonderful things about him, all of the beautiful things he'd done not just for me, but for many people in his life. And we prayed.
My Husband had a falling out with his family many years ago, and had not spoken to any of them since. So for years it has just been me and him, and we were perfectly fine with that. But with all of this happening, with the very real possibility that he might die, I decided to contact his family.
I wasn't sure what to expect after the way things had ended between them, and how much time had passed, but I definitely did not expect what happened.
I talked to several of John's siblings, his Mother, his Step-Mother, his Cousin and the outpouring of love and support that we received from them was unbelievable.
I found out that John's Sister Corina had a Son named Cody that had been born on John's birthday. I also found out that John's Brother Alan just had a Daughter named Natalie that was also born on John's birthday. His Sister Ginny told me that even though her children have never gotten to meet their Uncle John, they know all about him.
All of these people had one thing in common. They all desperately wanted John to survive because they had missed him so much all of these years. They couldn't stand the thought of him leaving this world without ever getting to meet his Nieces and Nephews, and without knowing that his family loved him and had been searching for him for years.
On January 23rd the hospital called me to tell me that John was awake. He was still intubated, and couldn't speak, but he was conscious. And as much of a relief as that was, that was when the other worries started in. Is he going to have brain damage? Is he going to remember who I am? Will there be personality changes? Will he be able to walk?
The first good sign came from his Nurses. They would ask him to wiggle his toes, or to squeeze their hand, and he was able to not only comprehend what they were asking of him, but he was actually able to do it.
The second good sign came over the course of several days. His Nurses would bring a portable phone into his room and lay it on his pillow, next to his ear, and let me talk to him every day. They said he knew who I was, and that while I was talking to him he would nod his head, or smile or frown.
That was the biggest relief for me, just knowing that he was still in there. That he wasn't brain dead. John has always been so very imaginative. Whether writing stories, or drawing, his mind was always busy with a million things. And I think that losing that beautiful mind would have destroyed me.
On January 27th they removed him from the ventilator and he was finally able to talk. He was weak, somewhat disoriented, but otherwise, he was completely normal. No brain damage whatsoever. His memory was completely intact, he was acting like himself, and I don't think I've ever felt that much happiness before.
On February 1st they released him from the ICU and moved him to a normal room. He started physical therapy, which was when they found out that he had lost some of the function in his right leg, but they fully expect him to be able to recover that eventually.
Everyone in the hospital kept popping into John's room to see him. They couldn't believe that he had survived, and that he was recovering so well. Eventually my Mom started calling him "The Miracle Man" which, much to John's chagrin, has caught on with everyone who knows him.
And that same Chaplain, the one that had sat and talked with me days before, came to visit with John. He told John about the talk he'd had with me, and about all the stories I'd told him about our life together. As he was leaving, he looked at John and he said, "I want you to know that I shared your story with people at both of our hospitals. You and your Wife, your story, has inspired all of us," and John cried.
HOW HE''S DOING NOW
As of now, John is still in the hospital. It's still a daily struggle for him to keep his blood oxygen above 90%. They've been keeping him on a CPAP mask to help him breathe. He's been continuing to do his physical therapy, and was very excited yesterday because he managed to get out of bed without help, get into a wheelchair, and wheel himself around his floor of the hospital. His Physical Therapist was amazed by his progress.
He is still on dialysis, and his Doctor has no idea yet whether this will be permanent or not. They seem to believe that since John's kidneys were perfectly healthy before all of this, that there is still hope that they may bounce back. But the reality is that he is probably looking at being on dialysis for the foreseeable future.
He still has some difficulty speaking. I have been told that they had trouble intubating him in the ER, and apparently the procedure did some damage to his throat, but they're expecting him to recover from that as well eventually. He's been seeing a speech therapist who is helping him with that.
Every time I talk to him the first thing out of his mouth is that he wants to come home. But apparently his Doctor is saying that even when he's discharged from the hospital, he will not be coming home. They're making plans to move him to a physical rehabilitation facility until they're confident that he will be able to function on his own. Plus, they'll be able to keep a close eye on his kidney function while he's there.
WHERE YOU COME IN
John is the primary bread winner in our house, and at this point he's been out of work for a little over three weeks. And between being transferred to the physical rehab facility, and whatever time his Doctors feel is necessary for recovery once he comes home, we have no way of knowing when he'll be allowed to return to work.
We have been extremely fortunate in the sense that the Saint Francis healthcare system has gone above and beyond to ensure that our lives have not completely fallen apart in the midst of all of this. They arranged to pay our rent for one month after John was admitted to the hospital. They also have Social Workers and Case Managers that have been working overtime to help us with everything from trying to arrange for free medications, to finding ways to help cover a majority of the cost of our hospital stays, to arranging transportation for John to get back and forth to dialysis once he gets home.
But their funds are limited, as are their resources, and unfortunately we've reached a point where we need to start looking for other ways to continue to pay our rent and buy necessities until he's able to work again.
In addition to rent and food, and all of the day to day expenses, I've been given lists of things that will be needed for the months to come: a wheelchair, a shower transfer bench, a home CPAP machine, etc. And without him working, I have no idea how to cover the costs of the things that we will so desperately need.
I had been keeping all of this from John since he came out of the coma. The last thing I wanted was for him to be trying to heal his body while worrying about all of this going on too, but yesterday I finally told him. I couldn't keep from him how dire things were, I didn't want it to blindside him.
He was worried, and I told him to please just focus on healing. He said "How am I supposed to do that knowing that once I do, I may not have a place to come home to? And what's going to happen to you? What are we going to do?" It broke my heart to hear the desperation in his voice.
I keep telling him not to worry. That I'm working on it, that I'll figure it out. But our rent is due again on the 26th of February. And although we don't have an estimate as to when John will be coming home, most of the things that we'll need to have for him will need to be ordered in advance. Time just keeps ticking away, and I feel overwhelmed and powerless to make all of this happen on my own.
So today I set out on a mission. In between dealing with the Nurses and Physical Therapists and Home Health Aides that have been coming to make sure that I'm healthy and healing, I've been working on ways to get all of this taken care of before he comes home, so he can stop worrying himself sick and focus on getting better.
I got a list of charitable organizations from my Case Manager, and I've been making calls, trying to see if any of them can help us. I've been talking to our family and friends, seeing if there's anything that they're able to do. And my last hope is making this GoFundMe account.
I know that most of the people reading this don't know John. And I know that things are hard for everybody, and a lot of people don't know how they're going to pay their own bills. But I also know that John has faith that God will watch over us, and he has always believed in the good in people, so I thought that maybe some of you might be able to help him.
Even if all you can afford to spare is a dollar, it's enough. Every little bit will help. And even if you can't afford to donate, just sharing this with the people you know would help.
Just please, please help me find a way to provide for my Husband in his time of need, the same way that he has always provided for, and taken care of me.
If nothing else, thank you for taking the time to read his story. It means the world to us.
My name is Andrea, and the photo above is of my Husband, John. He's your average guy. He loves pizza and video games, sci-fi movies and all types of music. He works full-time at Walmart, unloading trucks and stocking shelves. He loves animals, especially cats, and is the best man I have ever known. I've been blessed to have him as a part of my life.
WHAT HAPPENED
On January 18th I had to call an ambulance for John. He'd been sick for several days, and we simply thought he'd caught the flu. But the night of the 18th he had a fever of 103.6, he was shivering and panting like he couldn't catch his breath.
The EMT's took him to Saint Francis Eastside, and honestly, since John is normally very healthy, I thought that they might keep him overnight to bring down his fever and give him fluids, but that he'd be home in a day or two.
By the next morning, when the hospital finally called me, they'd had to intubate him and he had technically died. They had lost his pulse three times and had to perform CPR to bring him back each time. They then moved him to the ICU, where he spent several hours with a blood oxygen of 20%.
They had wanted to move him to their Downtown location, which had better equipment and specialists available, but every Doctor that saw him said that he wouldn't survive the transport.
For the next week he stayed in the ICU, in a medically induced coma. His Doctors and Nurses kept trying to prepare me for the fact that he would most likely not survive this. They were still having problems keeping his blood oxygenated, and even if he did survive, they believed that brain damage from lack of oxygen would be a certainty.
They also saw what looked like a blood clot in his heart, and gave him what they call a "clot buster" drug, which caused him to bleed profusely from his nose, mouth, ears, etc.
When I finally got to visit him I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He was unconscious, lifeless. There was dried blood caked to his skin. They had him hooked to countless machines and IV's. I counted 14 different pumps that were giving him medications intravenously.
I sat with him, and rubbed his arm, and talked to him. I tried to believe that subconsciously he could hear me, or somehow know that I was there. I kept begging him not to leave me and telling him that I loved him.
Just before all of this happened we had sat down and watched Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 together, and he had fallen in love with Baby Groot. My Mom later bought me a plush one, and I took that to the hospital and asked the Nurse to please put it somewhere that John would see it in case he ever woke up, just so he would know that I had been there.
Before I left, I held his hand, and I remember saying that as much as I wanted him to fight, wanted him to stay with me, that if it was too hard, or if it hurt too much, and he needed to let go, I would understand. But it killed me to think that this might be the last time that I would see his face, or touch his hand.
By January 21st John was still in the ICU, still in a coma, and I was informed by his Doctors that his kidneys had failed. They needed my consent to begin dialysis. Again I was reminded that his situation was grim, and that the likelihood of him surviving this was next to non-existent.
Although he was still listed as critical, they did finally feel that he was stable enough to risk moving him to the hospital downtown, which went well, and it gave him access to things like a pulmonologist and a nephrologist.
The same day that they transferred him to the Downtown hospital, I was admitted to the Eastside hospital, where John had been. I had an Upper Respiratory Infection, and was in the hospital myself for over a week.
The staff there took wonderful care of me, and every single person that came into my room asked how my Husband was doing. They had heard about what had happened to him, and they knew all about his stay in the ICU. They tried their best to support me as I worried about him, and to alleviate my fears when I was scared that he would never get better.
I spoke with one of the Chaplains at the hospital, a very kind man who wanted me to tell him about John. I told him about the time when we were younger, and I had nowhere to live. John was living with his Grandmother, he asked her if I could stay with them, and when she said no, he left his nice warm house and came to live with me on the street during a Maryland blizzard.
I also told him about the time that I was in a coma, after having surgery, and the Doctors thought that I wasn't going to make it, and tried to tell John that it might be a good time to say goodbye. John refused to believe it. He told my Nurse "You don't know her. She's a fighter!" Because John has always had faith in me.
The Chaplain and I sat and talked about John for quite a while. All of the wonderful things about him, all of the beautiful things he'd done not just for me, but for many people in his life. And we prayed.
My Husband had a falling out with his family many years ago, and had not spoken to any of them since. So for years it has just been me and him, and we were perfectly fine with that. But with all of this happening, with the very real possibility that he might die, I decided to contact his family.
I wasn't sure what to expect after the way things had ended between them, and how much time had passed, but I definitely did not expect what happened.
I talked to several of John's siblings, his Mother, his Step-Mother, his Cousin and the outpouring of love and support that we received from them was unbelievable.
I found out that John's Sister Corina had a Son named Cody that had been born on John's birthday. I also found out that John's Brother Alan just had a Daughter named Natalie that was also born on John's birthday. His Sister Ginny told me that even though her children have never gotten to meet their Uncle John, they know all about him.
All of these people had one thing in common. They all desperately wanted John to survive because they had missed him so much all of these years. They couldn't stand the thought of him leaving this world without ever getting to meet his Nieces and Nephews, and without knowing that his family loved him and had been searching for him for years.
On January 23rd the hospital called me to tell me that John was awake. He was still intubated, and couldn't speak, but he was conscious. And as much of a relief as that was, that was when the other worries started in. Is he going to have brain damage? Is he going to remember who I am? Will there be personality changes? Will he be able to walk?
The first good sign came from his Nurses. They would ask him to wiggle his toes, or to squeeze their hand, and he was able to not only comprehend what they were asking of him, but he was actually able to do it.
The second good sign came over the course of several days. His Nurses would bring a portable phone into his room and lay it on his pillow, next to his ear, and let me talk to him every day. They said he knew who I was, and that while I was talking to him he would nod his head, or smile or frown.
That was the biggest relief for me, just knowing that he was still in there. That he wasn't brain dead. John has always been so very imaginative. Whether writing stories, or drawing, his mind was always busy with a million things. And I think that losing that beautiful mind would have destroyed me.
On January 27th they removed him from the ventilator and he was finally able to talk. He was weak, somewhat disoriented, but otherwise, he was completely normal. No brain damage whatsoever. His memory was completely intact, he was acting like himself, and I don't think I've ever felt that much happiness before.
On February 1st they released him from the ICU and moved him to a normal room. He started physical therapy, which was when they found out that he had lost some of the function in his right leg, but they fully expect him to be able to recover that eventually.
Everyone in the hospital kept popping into John's room to see him. They couldn't believe that he had survived, and that he was recovering so well. Eventually my Mom started calling him "The Miracle Man" which, much to John's chagrin, has caught on with everyone who knows him.
And that same Chaplain, the one that had sat and talked with me days before, came to visit with John. He told John about the talk he'd had with me, and about all the stories I'd told him about our life together. As he was leaving, he looked at John and he said, "I want you to know that I shared your story with people at both of our hospitals. You and your Wife, your story, has inspired all of us," and John cried.
HOW HE''S DOING NOW
As of now, John is still in the hospital. It's still a daily struggle for him to keep his blood oxygen above 90%. They've been keeping him on a CPAP mask to help him breathe. He's been continuing to do his physical therapy, and was very excited yesterday because he managed to get out of bed without help, get into a wheelchair, and wheel himself around his floor of the hospital. His Physical Therapist was amazed by his progress.
He is still on dialysis, and his Doctor has no idea yet whether this will be permanent or not. They seem to believe that since John's kidneys were perfectly healthy before all of this, that there is still hope that they may bounce back. But the reality is that he is probably looking at being on dialysis for the foreseeable future.
He still has some difficulty speaking. I have been told that they had trouble intubating him in the ER, and apparently the procedure did some damage to his throat, but they're expecting him to recover from that as well eventually. He's been seeing a speech therapist who is helping him with that.
Every time I talk to him the first thing out of his mouth is that he wants to come home. But apparently his Doctor is saying that even when he's discharged from the hospital, he will not be coming home. They're making plans to move him to a physical rehabilitation facility until they're confident that he will be able to function on his own. Plus, they'll be able to keep a close eye on his kidney function while he's there.
WHERE YOU COME IN
John is the primary bread winner in our house, and at this point he's been out of work for a little over three weeks. And between being transferred to the physical rehab facility, and whatever time his Doctors feel is necessary for recovery once he comes home, we have no way of knowing when he'll be allowed to return to work.
We have been extremely fortunate in the sense that the Saint Francis healthcare system has gone above and beyond to ensure that our lives have not completely fallen apart in the midst of all of this. They arranged to pay our rent for one month after John was admitted to the hospital. They also have Social Workers and Case Managers that have been working overtime to help us with everything from trying to arrange for free medications, to finding ways to help cover a majority of the cost of our hospital stays, to arranging transportation for John to get back and forth to dialysis once he gets home.
But their funds are limited, as are their resources, and unfortunately we've reached a point where we need to start looking for other ways to continue to pay our rent and buy necessities until he's able to work again.
In addition to rent and food, and all of the day to day expenses, I've been given lists of things that will be needed for the months to come: a wheelchair, a shower transfer bench, a home CPAP machine, etc. And without him working, I have no idea how to cover the costs of the things that we will so desperately need.
I had been keeping all of this from John since he came out of the coma. The last thing I wanted was for him to be trying to heal his body while worrying about all of this going on too, but yesterday I finally told him. I couldn't keep from him how dire things were, I didn't want it to blindside him.
He was worried, and I told him to please just focus on healing. He said "How am I supposed to do that knowing that once I do, I may not have a place to come home to? And what's going to happen to you? What are we going to do?" It broke my heart to hear the desperation in his voice.
I keep telling him not to worry. That I'm working on it, that I'll figure it out. But our rent is due again on the 26th of February. And although we don't have an estimate as to when John will be coming home, most of the things that we'll need to have for him will need to be ordered in advance. Time just keeps ticking away, and I feel overwhelmed and powerless to make all of this happen on my own.
So today I set out on a mission. In between dealing with the Nurses and Physical Therapists and Home Health Aides that have been coming to make sure that I'm healthy and healing, I've been working on ways to get all of this taken care of before he comes home, so he can stop worrying himself sick and focus on getting better.
I got a list of charitable organizations from my Case Manager, and I've been making calls, trying to see if any of them can help us. I've been talking to our family and friends, seeing if there's anything that they're able to do. And my last hope is making this GoFundMe account.
I know that most of the people reading this don't know John. And I know that things are hard for everybody, and a lot of people don't know how they're going to pay their own bills. But I also know that John has faith that God will watch over us, and he has always believed in the good in people, so I thought that maybe some of you might be able to help him.
Even if all you can afford to spare is a dollar, it's enough. Every little bit will help. And even if you can't afford to donate, just sharing this with the people you know would help.
Just please, please help me find a way to provide for my Husband in his time of need, the same way that he has always provided for, and taken care of me.
If nothing else, thank you for taking the time to read his story. It means the world to us.
Organizer and beneficiary
Andrea Amell
Organizer
Greenville, SC
Elaine Amell
Beneficiary