Meet Courtney Pelletier
It was early February 2021, and I felt that I had either been exposed to or already had Covid. I had been teaching the entire school year. My teenage son had a very mild case of Covid in December and my younger 2 children had been exposed a handful of times at school. And so, when I went to get tested for what I believed to be strep throat, and instead tested positive for Covid, so great was my disbelief that I asked if they accidentally mixed up the test results. Because I had no health issues, was active and young(ish), I expected to have a quick, mild case. Unfortunately I experienced the opposite. I ran a high fever for 10 days, concurrent with extreme nausea, headaches, sore throat, and loss of taste.
The second week into the illness, I declined further with respiratory struggles and so my husband drove me to the ER on icy, empty roads in the middle of Houston’s “snowpocalypse”. I had double pneumonia and low oxygen. The ER physician wanted me admitted, but after some pleading on my part, allowed me to go home with the assurance I would return if my oxygen remained low. My husband then dedicated himself to checking my oxygen almost hourly for a week, encouraging me to breathe, or stand and walk when it dropped too low. Fear gripped my spirit, and I did a lot of praying--many times on my knees. I prayed for a promise during those dark days, and God graciously gave me Psalms 33:18-19.
“But look, the LORD keeps his eye on those who fear him
those who depend on his faithful love
to rescue them from death
and to keep them alive in famine.”
After 3 weeks, all praise to God, my oxygen levels increased. It took 5 weeks to have the breath support to talk without a coughing fit, and 6 weeks to walk down the street without having to stop and rest. To say this was a humbling experience--both physically and spiritually--is putting it lightly. It has given me compassion towards those who are suffering. It has increased my faith. I have a renewed appreciation for my husband. I will forever raise my hands in praise when singing the words “It’s your breath in our lungs, so we pour out our praise. We pour out our praise!”
The second week into the illness, I declined further with respiratory struggles and so my husband drove me to the ER on icy, empty roads in the middle of Houston’s “snowpocalypse”. I had double pneumonia and low oxygen. The ER physician wanted me admitted, but after some pleading on my part, allowed me to go home with the assurance I would return if my oxygen remained low. My husband then dedicated himself to checking my oxygen almost hourly for a week, encouraging me to breathe, or stand and walk when it dropped too low. Fear gripped my spirit, and I did a lot of praying--many times on my knees. I prayed for a promise during those dark days, and God graciously gave me Psalms 33:18-19.
“But look, the LORD keeps his eye on those who fear him
those who depend on his faithful love
to rescue them from death
and to keep them alive in famine.”
After 3 weeks, all praise to God, my oxygen levels increased. It took 5 weeks to have the breath support to talk without a coughing fit, and 6 weeks to walk down the street without having to stop and rest. To say this was a humbling experience--both physically and spiritually--is putting it lightly. It has given me compassion towards those who are suffering. It has increased my faith. I have a renewed appreciation for my husband. I will forever raise my hands in praise when singing the words “It’s your breath in our lungs, so we pour out our praise. We pour out our praise!”
Posted in Faces of Faith