Nurse at Stockton’s St. Joseph’s Hospital collapses at home, dies after coronavirus diagnosis
A Lodi registered nurse who died of complications from coronavirus has become another cautionary tale for front-line RNs who say they are desperate for equipment to help treat sick patients.
Jeff Baumbach, 57, worked as a case manager at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Stockton, coordinating care for Kaiser Permanente patients, said his mother-in-law Sharleen Leal.
Baumbach died Tuesday, March 31, and he is being remembered as a strong advocate for his patients . He was just months away from celebrating his 33rd wedding anniversary in June.
His wife, Karen, 55, works as a case manager at Adventist Health Lodi Memorial Hospital. The couple, high school sweethearts who attended Lodi High School, have four adult children.
“We are deeply saddened by the death of yet another of our RNs,” said Bonnie Castillo, executive director of National Nurses United and a registered nurse, in a statement Friday. “These deaths will continue without immediate response to the desperate need for protective equipment.”
Jeff had been sick for a week when he died, Leal told The Sacramento Bee on Friday. Karen didn’t show any symptoms until after her husband was tested. But “his was different. He had it worse than she did,” Leal said.
Baumbach returned to the Stockton hospital to receive the swab test, now known for detecting the virus.
“He went to St. Joseph’s. They have a tent outside, too. He went there and had the swab and they sent him home,” Leal said. “He just got so that he wouldn’t wake up. He was sleeping and he wouldn’t eat, and he coughed so violently that Karen said, ‘Jeff, you’ve got to go back,’ and he didn’t want to go.”
Karen made him go back to St. Joe’s. She dropped him off at the tent, but she couldn’t join him. She didn’t yet know whether she had the virus, so hospital personnel would not let her in.
Karen Baumbach waited in the parking lot for three hours for him. She finally called her mother to say the X-ray showed pneumonia.
“He said, ‘Go home. They’re going to give me a breathing treatment, and I’ll call you,’” Leal said. Jeff called Karen at work. He had tested positive. Karen received her test at Adventist in Lodi. She, too, tested positive.
Karen had turned a corner on Tuesday, the morning Jeff died, and was feeling better. Jeff didn’t get any worse, but he also wasn’t getting better. Then Sharleen said: “By 1 p.m., all hell broke loose and by 3 p.m., he was gone.”
“He collapsed, and Karen called for an ambulance. They took him right to Lodi Memorial, and she followed them. They have a special area for some patients with coronavirus,” Leal said. “They let her in with him. They did the ventilator, but the lungs just wouldn’t take it.”
Karen was with him when he died. Her daughter Kaila was out in the parking lot, waiting. She couldn’t go to her.
Leal remembered Baumbach as a devoted father deeply connected to family and the medical profession.
“They were always together as parents. Their kids really came first. They took time for themselves but their kids came first,” Leal said. “He would do anything, anything for his family…So many people have reached out. That’s been really, really, really heartwarming for her. I think she appreciates it, but I think she needs time...They were a great couple. They were just such respected people.”
Karen Baumach is sheltered in place, under quarantine until April 8. She’s undergoing the first of two tests to determine whether she is virus-free.
But neighbors and friends showed up by the carload, in lines blocks long, to show her support and say goodbye to Jeff.
“One friend said, ‘I went down Elm Street and cars were lined up by the park and around the corner,’ and so she said she thought, ‘Oh, I’ll just go to the other end of the block,’ which was about three blocks long,” Leal said. “She said, ‘Holy cow! They’re wrapped around that corner, and they were coming from both sides.’”
Leal called her daughter. “Look outside,” she said.
“I called and told her: ‘Would you go upstairs and look out your front window?’ She said, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘Would you just do it?’
Karen Baumbach went upstairs, opened the shutters and turned on a light. People were flashing their lights toward her.
Karen heard her mother’s voice at the other end of the line: “All these people came out to lend you support and show you love.”