The Covid Diaries 1: The Onset

 After three years of masking and avoiding and vaccinating and boosting, we finally got covid. Here's how it went down.

On Friday, I was on the treadmill and ... just not feeling it. I had to force myself to run faster than 4.5, and usually I'm at a 6 or 6.5. I cut the workout short, showered, and had supper. By late evening, it was clear Something Was Wrong. I felt tired and draggy and lethargic. 

On Saturday morning, I felt worse. Achy, exhausted. No congestion, no fever. I took a home covid test. Negative. Okay, then. Must be a garden-variety thingie. By afternoon I felt worse still, and I took ANOTHER home covid test. Still negative. So I settled in for a weekend cold.

By Sunday afternoon, I was pretty miserable, and Darwin was also getting sick. He was, in fact, getting sick faster than I did. I remembered that I'd had all the booster shots and Darwin had only had one. Darwin felt so awful, he didn't even want to sit up.

I gave him a covid test. Positive. 

Well, shit.

I gave myself a third test. Positive.

Uh oh...

The Covid Diaries 2: The Flattening

 Monday I was feeling fairly gross. Darwin was in better shape. We drove down to the clinic, and called in. We were put through to the doctor, who asked if we wanted a Paxlovid scrip if we were positive, we said definitely did. The doctor also told us that we'd need the positive results before the pharmacy would give us scrips.

We waited in the car until a Very Nice Man came out, administered the tests, and told us to watch our emails for the results. 

Back home, I was getting more and more miserable. Terrible malaise. Extreme fatigue. Aches. I was downing ibuprofen and DayQuil. I spent the day half-asleep on the couch, occasionally watching TV. 

The next day, we waited for the results so we could get the Paxlovid, but the email didn't come. I was starting to feel better, but Darwin was in a bad way. He could barely sit up. I took to checking his blood oxygen levels every hour. Fortunately, they stayed above 95.

Meanwhile, I was half-panicking over my teaching. My seniors are working their way through HAMLET, and it's something that a substitute can't really help them with. But I was going to be out for the entire week before break, and when we get back, we'll only have a few days before exams. I can't give them other work and still expect to get through HAMLET by the end of the semester. So I ended up telling them to keep working on the play on their own as best they could and I'll have to deal with problems when I get back. My freshmen I set to watching the movie OF MICE AND MEN as a review for exams, and my mythology class worked on a small project relating to the Hero's Journey.

I was actually cleared to go back to work on Thursday, the last day before break, but Darwin was still very sick on Wednesday evening and didn't want to be left alone. Additionally, I still tired easily and realized I'd probably be wiped out after only an hour or two at work, so I decided to call in. I've lost four precious sick days to this thing, and the district stopped giving us teachers special covid sick leave because the federal money ran out.

On the other hand, my winter break has been extended for a week.

Reluctantly, we called off our holiday celebration--again. This is the third year in a row we've canceled due to covid. But Darwin will still be contagious by Christmas Day, and we have too many people who really, really can't afford to be exposed, especially to a variant that can elude the vaccine, as this one has.

The Covid Diaries 3: Smell

Wednesday morning, I noticed I'd completely lost my sense of smell. I tested with a bunch of stuff--ranch dressing, hot mustard, sriracha, peanut butter, vinegar. Nothing. It was like smelling empty air. And, of course, I could taste almost nothing. A PB&J sandwich had a slight sweetness to it, but otherwise it was no different from eating a slice of ham or some mac and cheese. I even baked a loaf of bread in the bread maker. Not a thing. Darwin couldn't smell it, either.

I did some research and learned that olfactory loss can go on for anywhere from two weeks to eighteen months, with two to three months being common. Holy crap!

Given all the other medical outrages done to my body, and given that these problems have sent me into anxiety spirals so bad I need therapy and anti-depressants, I thought for sure that I would be completely freaking out over this new loss.

Nope. Nothing. No anxiety, no freaking, no panic. Nothing. How about that?

I didn't =like= the loss, but I seemed to be filing it under, "Annoyances: Small." 

Why was this? I gave it a great deal of thought and came to the conclusion that the other problems were caused by other people. They had done things to me that caused me pain, humiliation, and anxiety, either through their own carelessness, callousness, or malice.

Losing my sense of smell to covid, on the other hand, had no human agency. It's a virus. No one DID anything to me. It's just a symptom of illness. So no reason to get upset.

An interesting facet of my own psychology.

Meanwhile, my sister Bethany mentioned to me that a friend of hers tried some exercises when she lost her sense of smell due to covid. Every time the friend ate something, she concentrated on what it was supposed to smell and taste like. She also regularly sniffed various foods and concentrated on how they should smell. The idea was to retrain or reactivate neural pathways.

I thought, what the heck, right? May as well try. I decided to try with ranch dressing, sriracha, and Italian dressing, all pungent and evocative.

Nothing. And it's such a weird sensation! You crack open a bottle and you're used to identifying the contents instantly by smell. Now it was like the containers were empty. I squeezed the bottles to puff air up my nose. Nope, nothing.

Still, I did this at least twice an hour and also every time I ate, thinking about what I was supposed to smell and inhaling hard.

Thursday evening, I grabbed the bottle of ranch and . . . was that a whiff? It was! Madly I puffed the bottle at my nose, inhaling like a coke addict. It was there--a tiny hint of ranch spices. Encouraged, I tried the sriracha and the Italian. Also tiny, tiny bits. Cool!

I kept this up all day Friday, and noticed the scents were getting stronger for me. Then Darwin peeled a tangerine, and I realized I could smell it from a yard away. I peeled one myself, and got good smell results. Yes! 

Right now, I think I'm at about 60-70% of full, and it's only been a couple days. If you've lost your sense of smell because of covid, try this method. It might help!

The Covid Diaries 4: Pax!

By Wednesday evening, we still hadn't gotten the PCR test results, so no Paxlovid. I tried calling the lab, and stayed on hold for half an hour, and then the lab's system hung up. And remember, the clinic doctor had said we couldn't get Paxlovid without a positive PCR test. We'd gotten messages from our pharmacy that they were waiting for final authorization to release the drug to us, too.

But then I mentioned the problem to my family over text, and they expressed surprise. There's no reg that you need a positive PCR test to get Paxlovid. 

The hell?

I drove down to the pharmacy, asked for the meds, and the pharmacist handed it over, no question. So either the doctor was stupid, or he misspoke.  Take your pick.

We started with the drugs right away. Whooo! A common side-effect is a bitter taste in your mouth, and boy, did we both get that. And it happens even if you've lost taste and smell, like we both have. We chewed gum and drank sweet drinks and brushed our teeth a =lot=.

Thursday morning, I felt way, way better, and today (Friday), I'm better still. I tire easily, and have to be careful not to overdo, but I barely know I'm sick. Darwin improved even faster. He was two days behind me, and was a ball of misery on Wednesday, but by Thursday afternoon, he was feeling pretty good. So the bitter taste is totally worth it.

If you get sick, call your doctor and get Paxlovid, folks. It's the best!