Covid Finally Caught Up With Me
I started to feel sick on Sunday night while my friends were visiting from out of state, friends I hadn’t seen since before Covid and we were finally getting together. At first, I thought absolutely nothing of it: just a sore throat, nothing more, probably just allergies or a dry throat. I went for a run on Monday morning with my sore throat along the Cliff Walk in Newport and felt pretty good still. I walked the Cliff Walk later with my friends, and was just starting to feel under the weather. Still, since it wasn’t that bad, I didn’t really think much of it. I certainly didn’t think I had Covid. I awoke Tuesday feeling the same, not too bad, not great, so I took some Motrin and off we went to a rainy day at the Brimfield flea market. I walked around all day with them and made it through the day not feeling too badly.
By the end of the day when we returned home, I was starting to feel worse, so I took a Covid test. Positive. I was actually shocked. I had Covid? Me? I hadn’t been sick AT ALL in three years, and I had certainly been exposed to Covid quite a bit, but had never fallen ill. How did this happen to me?
It all went downhill from there. That night, shivering in my bed and starting to sneeze uncontrollably, I understood just how bad Covid was. I brought my friends to the airport and dropped them off, drove home and went right to bed. The fever and its accompanying symptoms of chills and body aches lasted a couple of days. Here it is a week later, and I am still home, still fighting off this terrible sickness. Stuck in this nether world of sickness, still testing positive, I am a pariah, unable to train people in person, workout, or teach classes.
Every day I wake up feeling (maybe) only marginally better than the day before, with a head that seems clogged, a throat that is still sore, and lots of mucus. In short, Covid is kicking MY ass (see the personal trainer irony there?)!
I doubled down right from the beginning on fighting the beast: I gulped down cold and flu medicine, acetaminophen and ibuprofen, shot saline spray up my nose, sucked on lozenges, and drowned myself in cup after cup of tea and bowls upon bowls of soup, I ate loads of fruit for the vitamin C. I took “breathing breaks,” when I would lay down and take deep inhales and exhales to make sure my lungs were clear. I rested, reading books, binge-watching Hulu and the US Open, and studying French.
I have to say I am really freaking sick of being sick. I have a newfound appreciation for the people who say how bad Covid was, those long-suffering friends and strangers both who struggled with the same crappy symptoms. My case is pretty mild too. I feel for my dad, who ultimately passed away from Covid complications, and how he must have suffered. It has definitely been a tough realization that I have to take time off to rest. I cannot wait until I feel better, and I will definitely NOT take feeling good for granted.
I’m also appreciating some simpler pleasures so much more, like reading a book or watching a sad movie, or seeing the sun come in the window at the end of the day. In some ways, this world of ours seems really messed up, but in other ways, just focusing on my illness has brought me back to noticing the real beauty of everything, the beauty of humanity, of being present, of being patient.
I will be so happy to go back to the land of the living. I vow to bring some serenity and peace back with me.