By Lea Weaver
I began recording this progress as a series of Facebook entries for my own benefit, as something to do while I was sick. The interest, kind responses and support was such that I gathered together all these entries to make up this piece of writing in the hope that it may be of wider interest, despite the fact that it’s unpredictable and different for everyone.
Day 1. Don and I woke with a 'cold' this morning. Don, my partner, just got tested. He was told we had influenza but can expect a mild dose as we are vaxed. Raspy throat, headache, that sort of thing. Evidently, there's a lot of it in the community right now. About 10 days, we are told. A good excuse to not obsess with my 'to do' list but just be lazy and watch Bridgeton.
Day 2. Bad news. We tested negative to all influenza strains but positive to Covid. Please take care of yourselves.
Day 4. This is the worst Covid day yet. I hoped to have improved by now, but my tastebuds have gone AWOL. No more joy of morning breakfasts, sourdough toast, and almond and cashew butter, my favourite spread. This was a no-taste glug on my tongue. Wine tastes horrid, and even my friend, Ori's, home-made grappa tasted awful. So I can't even get pissed. I'll never take the joy of taste and smell for granted. Not that I ever did. I'm feeling washed out, and will probably sleep today. Blessed Pan Forte and Fisherman's Friends. These really help with the coughing.
On the plus side, I still have no fever, am not overly breathless, and I have no real aches and pains (touch wood,). A call from my dear Doc Fogarty after hours last night was most reassuring. And oh, the kindness. Some kind person has just delivered a loaf of bread to our door. Also, the folk at Veg To Go delivered a pack of food - salads and falafel balls. Many offerings of food to see us well fed, as well as kind messages on-line. My daughter made a hearty delicious meal to last a couple of nights. Ironic that we can no longer taste it. Yet I take so much comfort from all this. I'm posting this as a reference for anyone else who is going through something similar. I'm so glad I am vaccinated to the hilt or I would be dead, I suspect. I'm taking zinc and Vit D3, on the advice of one of my Facebook friends and fully expect improvements tomorrow
Day 5. I really hoped that I would be feeling better than I do. My cough is much better, but if I get up and walk around I realise I am far from well. Don, however, feels he has recovered completely. This is good. Thank you, everyone, for the offers of food and cooking meals. That is so kind. We have plenty, and unfortunately not much taste or appetite to enjoy it all. Another sleep, another day, and we'll see how things are tomorrow.
Day 6. Groundhog day. I won't go on. I’m disappointed that there's no improvement. My taste still gone, and I’m still having nausea and swooning. I’m posting to compare notes with others' experiences. Stay well all who are well already, and do get fully vaccinated.
Day 7. Another day, and things are much the same. I'm so grateful for all the support I have had that lifts me out of my bed of isolation with the love, hope and help that is being offered. Thank you all so much.
Dr Fogarty finally phoned me last night, at about 8pm. He was snowed under. My phone appointment was at 11.30am! The story is a script or two, my nausea should be soon over and I can take Gaviscon in the meantime, but taste and smell could take weeks. That's a bugger.
It's a strange 2D world without those senses. We only have five of them, and losing two of them has had a big impact on me. I didn't know what I had till it was gone. It's something like living in a visual world with no colour. I didn't realise that my synaesthesia extended to taste and smell. These senses had colour for me and I didn't realise this until now when I lost them. I have always seen colour in numbers, in music, like Walt Disney's Fantasia, with shapes, patterns and movements. But now that I don't have smell or taste, it obviously extended further than I knew. Since childhood, I thought this colour perception was normal and hardly noticed it until I realised others didn't have this experience, and when the senses merge into each other, this is an actual condition with a name – synaesthesia. I miss the colours of smell and taste, which don't always correspond to the colour of the food. Not to mention the taste itself of good wine and sourdough toast. Garlic? No, I can't taste a thing.
Anyhow, I'm taking it easy, I’m more resigned to the present moment and on this sunny morning, despite everything; I'm feeling quite grateful I'm not worse off.
I’ll just add that Don took me to get tested today. The result was positive, of course, so now I am registered with the Health Department and can expect some support, and a questionnaire to fill in.
Day nine. This thing is weird. It seems to come and go. Yesterday Don brought me nachos with cheese, guacamole, aioli, diced tomatoes, red beans and salad. I could TASTE it. Oh, the joy. The first meal I have enjoyed for more than a week.
I woke up feeling better today, but as I got out of bed and moved around my energy left me, and I felt queasy again. It's as though I have no energy reserves. Still, I am going to experiment and have a shower and a needed change of PJs. I may stink, but I wouldn't know it. When I smudge my clothes room with a smoking sage stick to discourage moths, I can't smell the smoke. That is so strange.
However, I could just taste a cup of tea this morning. This was good, and didn't cause nausea as previously. I also had a dried biscuit with Philly cheese and sundried tomatoes and this also felt good. I could taste this. Coffee and red wine still taste terrible.
This thing feels so unfamiliar and alien that it makes me feel that colds and flu of the past are like old familiar childhood companions. No, not friends. But there is comfort in remembering that I could track the familiar pathway of convalescence, the evening worsening of symptoms, better each morning, and the loosening and easing of a cough when recovering. Predictable.
It's hard to be sure of how I am going as this thing comes in waves, and I hardly dare hope, but I think there is a glimmer of improvement. Anyway, my mood is okay. Nothing is forever. Well, almost nothing.
I'm experimenting with fasting today. I'm not sure if this is a good idea. My dear beloved long-suffering body will guide me if I need to change horses midstream.
Best wishes everyone and take care and precautions. Get all your vaccinations. Believe me, you don't want this. I thought it wouldn't happen to me. I had so little contact, I was immunized, didn't go out except once a week where I was at my own distanced table, street coffees only, no trams, masks for brief shopping expeditions, but down I came. I'm not even sure what more I could have done. You can't be too careful.
Day 11. Looking back on my last message, I see I have made more progress than I realised. Nausea has left me, and I'm getting up and moving around without unsteadiness or giddiness. I find myself doing normal things around the place, but I'm still not up to going outside and messing about in the garden quite yet. Also, it's cold!
It's good to look back and see how far I've come in a couple of days. I didn't realise this and was feeling impatient that things weren't moving faster for me.
Last night, I fancied I could smell cooking downstairs as Don was making dinner. This morning I took part in meditation with the Ozark Research Institute people. They have been giving me a lot of support and distance healing.
So now, I'm trying to be patient, getting up and about and keeping exercised, and also spending time in or on my bed resting and healing. I still have a slight residual cough and some heaviness breathing, but I'm feeling very optimistic and feel I will soon be my old self again. Food is great! Sleep could be better. The deep sleep that was happening previously is now back to my normal disturbed sleep. The cats don't help - they feel my bed and my warmth is their domain.
.Day 13. This morning Don took me around for another test, but I was turned down. This was disappointing, as I wanted to confirm a negative test to feel reassured. However, I was told that being tested so early after the seven-day quarantine may likely give a false positive. I wish I hadn't confessed my history.
However, I'm in good spirits today, despite the grey and gloomy weather. While I was out and about, I found I had the energy to give the path a bit of a sweep. Probably not wise, as I had been warned by one of my contacts who overdid it exercise-wise, and ended up with the relapse, which was worse than the previous illness. This strange virus has left me feeling quite anxious, as the whole experience has been unfamiliar and strange. I collapsed back on the bed after sweeping, where I am now resting.
My nausea has all but gone, and I feel quite hungry at times. My taste has improved although it is still not quite right. I'd still don't have much of a sense of smell, but as I hold my nose over a smoking incense stick, I can just make out the aroma. This is enough to give me confidence that all will be well again in the fullness of time.
I still have a slight loose cough, my chest and breathing feel heavy and I'm still lightheaded. I run out of puff quickly when I get up and about. I'm still in my pyjamas as this encourages me to rest and not do too much.
Yesterday, as I sat up in bed, I was able to have a zoom meeting with my writing group, The Cartridge Family. It was suggested that I cut-and-paste these Facebook comments into a Word document, to submit for the next meeting. I'm continuing to write because many have expressed interest in how this virus has been playing out, despite the fact that it is so different for everybody. There was even a comment about Samuel Pepes, and how my record may be useful in the future. I'm not sure about that one, but I will continue to write a little more for now. It gives me something to do when I don't have a lot of energy.
This has been an interesting experience, and during my time online I have found new friendships while writing these posts, as well as being back in contact with old friends from overseas that I had lost touch with. I certainly haven't felt isolated or lonely but have enjoyed quite a good mood after the initial downer. The kindness and the comments I have received have been quite wonderful, and have kept me in good spirits. Thank you one and all.
Day 18. This is my final post about this virus. I'm better. Two days ago I had my first foray into the world - coffee under a street heater at Tiamos in Lygon St. I bought a couple of items at the Idyll shop, and then a bit of foraging at a Coburg op-shop. Wonderful. I bought some cushions there. And yes, another gorgeous bag I didn't need. I was tired afterward, got breathless pretty quickly, and rested yesterday. But it was feeling more like a normal recovery without the strange unfamiliar feeling I had during this illness. And today I went out again with Don, shopping in Coburg again for a Kombucha jar, and then coffee in Lygon St. again. There I met Jessica, on the street, and gave her some change and a coffee. She told me she's waiting for a housing commission home, sleeping on the stairs of a housing commission building while she waits. She was cheerful and grateful as I shared with her the fact that I, too, was afraid I would end up in her position during my divorce. I felt privileged and wished I could do more. Now, however, I am so grateful to feel back to normal. Yes, a little weak it's true, but improving every day. A small residual cough that's almost non-existent, and I took joy in sweeping my driveway of leaves. So yes, it passes. All is good now, and I do hope that these posts have been in some way a bit helpful. Take care of your dear selves, one and all.
I'll just add that I have had all four of my vaccinations, and now intend to wear a mask everywhere I go. I do not want this to happen to me again. I have been lucky, and it's something I certainly don't want to repeat. I picked this up so quickly, probably at the hotel on our music night. Someone came over to our table and commented on my knitting. It could have come from her table, as so many from that night came down with Covid. Masks for me, and I admit, I'm a little agoraphobic right now. Take care, stay well, and thanks for following these Facebook posts.
Week 11. Yet another post. I have just had a month of anxiety and arrhythmia and missed heartbeats. I have an appointment - I had to wait for this one – to see my GP next week to see if I have Long Covid, and if so, what I can expect.
Now, it’s well into October and I realise that Covid is still not over for me. Long Covid was confirmed. I am now experiencing anxiety that comes in waves, as well as heart arrhythmias and missed beats, which are also episodic. Sometimes I feel fine, but all through this experience it has been hard to be sure about what is happening. This thing seems to come and go, and for me, it’s unpredictable. I do think that things are improving, but life is different now. I am anxious about being in company, and so many other things besides. I do not feel confident about taking long car journeys. My brain these days has been a little foggy I think with age, but I think this has increased. I forget things, am constantly losing things. Did this happen previously to this extent? Well, I forget.
(Image by Pam Menegakis on Unsplash)