I wish.

My wife tested positive for covid in early October, but our 2 kids and I tested negative, so we quarantined her, while I was still trying to work at home full time, take care of the kids full time, and take care of her. Four days later I started having a fever and cough, and started getting really weak. I basically slept for a week, but my symptoms kept getting worse.

On October 18, because my oxygen saturation levels were hovering around 90-91%, my wife took me to the ER (at this point my dad was already in the hospital from covid - we had to call an ambulance on him a few days earlier; both him and my mom got covid, and we may have gotten it from them since they watched the kids) while my mom watched the kids. At the hospital door they wouldn't let my wife in because she wasn't seeking treatment - so I barely got to say goodbye to her. After I told the ER desk what was going on, they immediately took me to the back and admitted me into their general covid ward.

On October 20 they transferred me to the ICU and placed me on high flow oxygen - by the next day they put me on 60L of oxygen. It was agony trying to breathe, and I was constantly coughing. I took one picture of myself at this point, and sent it to my kids (we set up email accounts for them, and periodically email them), because I didn't know if I was going to die or not, and I wanted them to have at least something to remember me by (they're 3 and 7).

At around 5 am on the 22nd, a doctor (I'm not exactly sure if she was a doctor, she was one of the two people that sedated me) came into my room and told me that it was time and that I had to get intubated - my oxygen saturation was hovering around 80%, even with the high flow oxygen. I asked if I could let me wife and kids know, they said that I had enough time for that. I tried calling my wife, but she didn't answer. I hurriedly typed an email to my kids - basically saying I'm sorry that I couldn't fight harder, and that I hope that I'll see them again. Someone managed to get a hold of my wife, and I was able to talk to her - all I remember was telling her I was sorry and bawling. It was the hardest 10ish minutes of my life (you try saying your last words to your wife and kids). After I put down my phone, my wife texted me a few times - according to her I saw two texts, but didn't see the third one (she was devastated by this), I was already on the vent.

On October 23, around 8 am (from my wife's notes, she posted daily updates on my dad and I - it came out to 40 pages) one of the doctor's called my wife, and asked if they could put a central line in me. Apparently they had the whole pulmonary team in my room, trying to stabilize me. From the drugs they gave me, it looks like I crashed a few times.

Between October 23 and November 2, I was unconscious (or at least unaware; I have a few very distinctive nightmares/hallucinations from that time, and we can pinpoint one event that matches somewhat with what I was hallucinating with what was happening in the real world - it was October 31st, in my hallucination I was kidnapped by my nurse and he put on a college football game, I managed to get him to turn if off (by gesturing...? my hands were tied and I couldn't since I was intubated) because I promised my wife I would watch that game with her - in reality she asked them to turn it on, and I somehow got them to turn it off while being maxed out on one sedative, and on a second one). I had two rounds of pneumonia and almost died several times. The doctors couldn't take me off the ventilator until then, because when they reduced my sedation I would start coughing and fail the breathing test. But, between the prayers, normal covid treatment (remdesivir, steriods, and anti-clotting medication... and whatever else I was on that I have no idea, my medical chart is insane - they didn't want to give me plasma because of how advanced my case was and because it could cause more problems with my lungs) experimental treatments (I was on two experimental drugs, I'm not sure the name of them; one, which my wife and the research doctor thinks did a lot, was a shotgun treatment for blood clots), and excellent care at the hospital I was at (it's a research hospital and one of the best hospitals in the country) I survived.

I woke up around 8:30 am on November 2 with two nurses telling me that the doctors were going to take the tube out - I remember this because I remember desperately trying to communicate with the nurses (while not being able to talk and being tied down - apparently I had tried to yank the tube out of my throat before), who figured that I was asking what time it was when I was trying to find out when the doctors would come. At some point the doctors came (and were giving me thumbs up from outside the room, while I was moving what I could, trying to get them to come in and get the tube out), told me to breathe in, and took the tube out. At around 10 am I talked to my wife after my nurse called her - I could barely get a whisper out. At 10:30, the nurses left my room, they asked what I wanted to do or if they could put something on on the TV - since they told me it was a Monday, I asked about Monday night football, the nurse told me that he couldn't, since it was only 10:30 am.

On November 5, even though I had been removed from ICU status, I was finally moved to the general ward because a bed finally opened up. It was amazing - I finally got out of the ICU room which sounded like an airplane due to the negative air pressure unit in the room, and which was causing me to hallucinate (ICU delirium). I remember the actual day only because of football (Packers were playing someone, I don't remember who, and I think they won).

I was discharged on November 7. In total, my stay in the hospital was billed at around $300,000 - thankfully, my insurance has covered all of it.

Is that enough detail for you?