One evening, when Ted was in the hospital fighting for his life, I came home after visitor hours ended and searched for COVID Support Groups or some Facebook group that had others in a similar situation. I was desperate to hear their survival stories, to know if I could do anything—I needed to connect with others on the same journey. 

Shortly after Ted arrived home from his 85 days in the hospital, I searched again for a Support Group—this time one for caregivers. There were a few more, but nothing quite what I was looking for. 

Somehow, I had this bright idea to start my own group and went down the support group rabbit hole, which made me realize I had no idea what I was doing. Obviously, I wasn't thinking clearly because I already had a full plate that was spilling over—caring for Ted, the kids, and a house, and I was writing a book on top of it all!

Long story short, I ended up training and became a certified support group facilitator, which made me aware that I wasn't ready to guide anyone anywhere when I still had so much to process on my own. By now, I'm an expert at taking the longest path in learning—I should've known I wasn't ready. What's that saying: busy hands quiet the mind? Something like that. 

But the urge to connect never left. 

Here we are today, and I'm on the home stretch of finishing up the book; like every writer I've ever known or read about, I'm now questioning everything. Normal, yes. Terrifying, also yes. Anyway, I started thinking about the others suffering from COVID. Initially, like many, I was beyond ready to put COVID in the rearview mirror. I wanted to move on from it. My goal wasn't to make this a sad and traumatizing book about COVID-19 but a story of conquering trials and tribulations. Hmmm, maybe other COVID survivors would want to read this book?

Again, I searched COVID support groups on Facebook. 

I was floored. I never got to the end of the scrolling because I sat back in shock. So many questions rolled in—Where have I been? When did this happen?  What can I do?

I decided to join a few groups with a high interaction rate. As I paged through the posts, I found people with all sorts of long COVID struggles, from headaches to bedridden, a lot of lung issues, others with debilitating brain fog, many with pain, some battling since the beginning of the pandemic, some with multiple infections, but all frustrated with unanswered questions on how to live this new life. 

I kept thinking I read it wrong, but as I swiped through the comments, I realized that the post's author wasn't the only one who felt the same way. Many were exhausted, living a pain-filled life from their beds, not able to think or process, flooded with depression and defeated by endless doctor visits with no answers or hope for a healthy future. 

How do you reply to something like that? This private Facebook group's comments grew from 50 to 200, and finally, comments were closed at 781 "likes" and 317 comments. My heart broke for them, especially those who no longer wanted to go on.

Sorry, I don't mean to get everyone depressed! That's not my intention. What IS my purpose is to bring attention and make people aware that Covid is still wreaking havoc in many people's lives and the lives of their families. I was blown away at how many are still affected by this illness—all fighting what now seems like a silent battle.

Please keep these people in your thoughts and prayers, and stay safe!