COVID-19 Kansas Treatment Injury Stories

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John’s Story

Submitted by his wife, Peggy, Kansas citizen

On November 1st of 2021, John and I both got sick with COVID-19. He didn’t have any symptoms, but I was very sick and couldn’t breathe or walk, so he was taking care of me. On the 7th, I finally decided that we needed to go to the hospital. Once there, they tested us both and both tests were positive, so we were put in separate rooms. They gave me oxygen and liquids because I was extremely dehydrated. They did CT scans, blood work, and chest x-rays on both of us, and everything came back fine. They decided to send us home and asked us to come back the next day for the antibodies. I had to be wheeled out in a wheelchair, but John was walking.

When we came back, they said that they couldn’t administer the treatment to John because his oxygen levels were too low (even though he was breathing fine and I was the one having trouble breathing). They took him back to the ER and put oxygen on him. I asked if he could get the antibodies once his oxygen came back up and the nurse told me that it was too late; he had already missed his window of opportunity. They wheeled me out to our vehicle where I waited for three hours before they told me that they were going to send him home with oxygen and that everything should be fine. John kept the oxygen on and did exactly as the doctor told him, despite feeling fine.

A couple days later, he started struggling with breathing and began to decline throughout the day. By the end of the day, he was in the 70s and I was getting scared. Our sixteen year old daughter drove him to the hospital around 8 pm and waited until 11 pm to be told that they were going to keep John overnight. At 3 am, they called me to tell me that they were going to send him to Oklahoma for oxygen. John didn’t want to go and I told the doctor that this was our hospital (we had doctored here for years and all of our babies were born here) and we did not want him to be sent away. They responded and said, “Well then you want your husband to die,” and decided to send him out of state anyway, despite our wishes.

They flew him to Tulsa, OK, to OSU Medical Center the next afternoon. At the time, we were scared but we thought we were still going to be okay. He was still able to text me and get up and walk around, but he had to have people in the room with him because on his very first day there, they gave him Remdesivir, morphine, and performed a bypass. We didn’t know this until after the fact when we received his medical records. He was texting me and telling me that he was doing well, his lungs were clear, and his oxygen was in the lower 90s. He expected to be home in a couple of days.

A few days passed and John was still there. He texted me around 10:30 in the morning saying he was hungry. He hadn’t been brought breakfast and hadn’t seen anyone yet that day. I called the hospital to ask about it and they told me they had just given him morphine. I asked why, since John wasn’t in pain, and they said it was because he was “agitated.” I asked why they weren’t feeding him and instead of answering me, they got mad, said, “It’s just COVID,” and hung up on me.

Things just started falling apart after that. They kept telling John that if he couldn’t breathe any better than he was, they were going to have to put him on a ventilator. By the 14th, John was getting worried and I wanted to come see him. The doctor told me I couldn’t because he was isolated, even though the quarantine window had passed. I was told I could come on the 29th, so I asked, “Who’s to say that he’ll even still be there on the 29th?” The doctor answered, “It’s COVID. I have other patients to take care of,” and hung up.

On the 22nd, John texted me saying, “Things are not okay, and I just want you to know that I love you and that God’s got this.” That was the last text message I got from him. The next day I received a phone call telling me they had vented him, despite the fact that it was against John’s wishes and the fact that I had never given them permission to do so. I asked the doctor how many patients she had vented and how many of those had come off the ventilator. She replied that she’d vented about 100 patients or more and around 10 had come off of the ventilators.

Eventually they told me that I needed to stop calling them to check on how John was doing. They would often hang up on me and fail to answer my questions, often replying that it was “just COVID” and that COVID “didn’t make sense.” Finally I asked the doctor to administer Ivermectin, just to see if it would help. She chuckled, said, “Ma’am, your husband isn’t a horse,” and hung up on me.

By that time, it was near the 29th, but they now said that I couldn’t come to see him. On December 1st, they told me that they were moving him to a private room and I might be able to see him, but couldn’t be in the room with him. On the 2nd, they called and said, “If you want to try to get here, we’ll try to keep him alive until you get here, because he’s not going to live.” My sister-in-law and I jumped in the car and drove down to Tulsa, arriving around 8 o’clock in the evening. He was still alive. We hardly saw anyone around whether doctors, nurses, or patients, even though they were always saying that the hospitals were overflowing. We were able to walk into the ICU without being buzzed in.

When we saw John, his face was raw meat. His ear had a huge blood blister on it. I just held his hands and talked to him and kissed his raw face. They hadn’t done any oral care on him. His lips were swollen and crusted and chapped and split. They had shaved his mustache off but they had not shaved his neck. I was able to be with him 3 ½ hours before his heart stopped. I stayed with him after that and when the doctors finally came in, they didn’t say a word to me. There was no, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Springer.”

I told the nurse that I didn’t want John staying there any longer and they needed to call our funeral home right away. The funeral director called me when we were driving back home and offered to go and get John right away. It took two weeks to get the death certificate signed so we could even have a service. I was able to get his medical records. I had a nurse and a doctor look at them and that’s when I found out that they had not only given him morphine, but Remdesivir, fentanyl, other medications, and that he had a broken nose. No one had ever talked to me about him having a broken nose.

They basically euthanized him the moment they vented him. They shut his breathing off so that the only thing he was working on his own was his heartbeat. Our rights were stepped on. It is crazy that I could not be in there with him and be an advocate for him. There was no way that John could have given any consent for those medications. Even if they had asked him, there were no consent papers in his medical files; he hadn’t signed anything. They hadn’t asked me about any of the medications either.

John was murdered for profit. The hospitals receive financial incentives for using certain protocols, like Remdesivir and ventilators. They took everything from us. They took our income, they took our children’s father, our grandkids’ papa, and they took my best friend. They need to be held accountable.

Listen to Peggy tell John’s story to CHD’s Vax-Unvax: The People’s Truth bus here.

Anonymous Story

Submitted by a family member, Kansas citizen

My brother-in-law was a 56 year old man weighing 156 pounds when admitted to the hospital on September 24, 2021. He was placed on a ventilator on September 28, 2021. He received over 20 liters of fluids, several high dose anti anxiety meds which slowed his body’s ability to fight, and numerous other drugs.  He was given no diuresis medications until it was too late for them to have any effect. He was transferred to another hospital on October 5, 2021 when the hospital he was originally taken to finally admitted they were not equipped to treat him. On his transfer records it indicated he was obese. (How does a 156 pound man become obese in 11 days…maybe because he was given so much fluid without diuresis that he swelled up like a giant balloon-the admitting doctor at the 2nd hospital indicated he was given so much fluid that his testicles were the size of footballs!). By that time his body was unable to withstand the procedure of trying to remove the excess fluid and his organs shut down. On October 7, 2021 he lost his life. The first hospital he was taken to refused to let my sister visit her husband and the second hospital he was taken to only allowed her to come at the end. They allowed her, myself, and our other sister to be at his bedside when he passed. My sister sang to him a song that was very special to them as he took his last breath. 

Mark’s Story

Submitted by his wife, Lesley, of Sedgwick County

My husband contracted CV-19 just after New Year's Day, 2022. I was just recovering from the disease myself and had been very sick; consequently, I was struggling to look after him. When his breathing became severely labored, emergency services were called and it was deemed necessary to admit him to the hospital because of his extremely low SATS. I and his daughter was unable to visit him for about fourteen days, despite my having had the disease and his daughter having been vaccinated against it. During that time, he apparently 'crashed' and was put on a vent. By the time I was allowed to visit him, I had obtained a protocol from my functional doctor, which I was hoping the hospital would administer. I did indeed request intravenous vitamin C and extra zinc, both of which were added in insignificant - and ineffective - amounts to his liquid 'nutrition', an unpleasant concoction with a mucous-forming dairy base. I also asked if they had more nutritious liquid food, to include liquidized fruits and vegetables, but was told there were only two available options, neither of which was particularly health-giving. Most importantly, I asked if the hospital would administer ivermectin, but was denied.

My husband survived twenty days in hospital. He had two surgeries during that time, one to replace the vent with a trach. tube and the other to put in a chest tube, since air was collecting outside his lungs. He was administered numerous drugs, including fentanyl. His tongue was eventually covered with fungus, which I was told they could neither treat nor clean, since he 'closed his mouth' when they tried to clean or moisten it. I was in disbelief that they could not do this for him to make him more comfortable, since I was under the impression that they were qualified nursing staff. He finally died of sepsis, heart failure, CV-19 and 'vent pneumonia' according to his death certificate.  It should be noted that my husband had NO co-morbidities, bar somewhat low energy.  Our family doctor was completely surprised that he succumbed to the disease.

It must be noted that critically-ill patients and their relatives are completely 'at the mercy' of hospital staff. It is difficult to keep requesting medications that are not usually recommended for fear that the patient will reap the consequences. A nurse who had been tending to CV-19 patients told me that patients were sometimes treated neglectfully if their relatives were insistent upon alternative protocols. She left the hospital (in Kansas) where she worked because of this practice. Hearsay, I know, but I have no reason to believe she was lying.

While my husband was in hospital, I was informed by a young doctor that Wesley Hospital was very proud of their record for weening patients off vents. The national average at that time was 15%, but Wichita's was 33%! Wow! 67% of ventilated patients died!  Also, nothing was said about the condition of these patients once they came off the vents, and how that condition might impact the rest of their lives.

By 2022, it was well known that patients with CV-19 did not do well on ventilators and that cheap, re-purposed drugs existed that had saved hundreds of lives, even those with severe disease. What I know is that my life partner, my much-loved husband, a father, grandfather, sibling, and friend, was denied potentially life-saving early treatments for this bio-weapon of a disease and subsequently died in hospital on an ‘all expenses paid’ ventilator. No-one knows for certain if he might have lived had he been given ivermectin, hydroxychloroqine, budesonide, etc. as soon as he went into the hospital, but we do know that he was denied that chance in order for the demonstrably unsafe and ineffective shots to be administered. In other words, I am aware that medicines cannot be released under EUA, if effective treatments for a specific disease already exist. They did, and they still do, but at least two Wichita hospitals were not administering them at that time (St. Francis and Wesley).

My story is but one of thousands. The victims of this unimaginable evil were husbands, wives, sons, daughters, friends, and of course, those of us left behind. I was told by an attorney that hospitals cannot be sued because they were only following CDC recommendations, even if there were enough people to launch a class action suit. Nonetheless, at the very least, there should be a law against this kind of behavior ever being allowed again, and, I believe, a monument to all those who died in hospital in this war of lies and corruption. Maybe each state could erect such a monument.