Today is the third day I woke up feeling like the bumps in the road on the I-430 bridge. This started as a scratchy throat and then felt like a massive sinus infection. Painful, but totally manageable. Oh, this is Covid-19, I thought to myself as I wondered what the point of all the panic was. I thought, All these precautions I took… Washing my damn groceries… And we got it anyway. I was starting to feel a bit free from all these restrictions foisted upon us…maybe I could relax a bit in the future given that I’ve already had covid.
But yesterday came. The day I broke down. I felt pressure on my chest: that breathing through a straw everyone talks about. I sobbed on the phone to my dad where he told me I’d be okay. That we’re young and healthy. That it would be okay. I listened to my mom’s spiritual counsel and testimony: saying I have to know the truth, and that illness is a lie. I asked if knowing the truth can prevent these things… And she said sure, but when you sign up to be human, these are the things that come with it. And that’s when I realized I need to find my own path.
My husband has been down for the count since he’d been back. Catching up on sleep. Recovering from his trip. He’s about four days ahead of me in our covid journey.
My daughter waking up with a fever yesterday pushed me over the edge of parental rumination. I thought little kids were barely supposed to have symptoms at all, and she’s been coughing for a while now.
Was all of us catching it preventable? I don’t know, really. We were four days into my husband’s “sinus infection” (which we were sure he had because the pollen had been bothering him for more than a week) when he took his on-the-job weekly covid test.
You see where this is going, don’t you? So what should have been a covid-free work trip, turned into a disease-slinging nightmare. The virus lay dormant long enough for its host to pass a covid test. And then, jump to the three of us as soon as it had a chance.
I started feeling real symptoms the night my husband got the news that he a statistic. One of the millions of the people who’d caught covid. That was Thursday. I’ve taken my test and am still without results. The only benefit of a positive test at this point is to prove I’m justified in canceling my classes, so there will be no negative outcome to my contract if I have to cancel any more.
I’ve been taking Tylenol twice daily to make it through the day. With Tylenol, I can cook, potty train, and stay awake. I keep the pressure in my chest and fatigue, though. I drink water, take vitamins, and avoid sitting for too long. Sitting too long makes breathing uncomfortable.
I heard from the department of health as I was writing this post. Apparently, they have had my positive covid results since the 3rd. After speaking with them, I’m my last day of quarantine is April 9th.
I’m signing off for now. But I wanted to write a blog post for posterity. For the historical record. So I would have something to look back on in the future of this time. So I could share with others what having covid was like.
