Surviving Covid

I was terrified of getting Covid because I’ve had pneumonia seven times, and bronchitis more than a dozen times. Anything respiratory is scary to me, especially something killing millions of people around the world. So when I saw that the rapid test was positive, my heart sank.

It was Thursday when I did the first test as I wasn’t feeling well. I had been back from a day trip in the big city of Toronto for five days. The rapid test came back negative, so I looked my wife and mom and just shook my head wondering how I could have gotten the flu, but felt thankful that I didn’t have Covid.

The next day, Friday morning, I woke up and felt even worse, so I took another test and before it got to the control line, the test line was bright red. I had Covid.

Was I going to die?

I isolated myself in our master bedroom, which has a three piece bath, and hoped that I would get through it without getting Covid-pneumonia.

My mom and wife were both testing negative. They couldn’t believe it since they had been around me so much, even when I was first symptomatic. I would love to say that it was easy, and I didn’t have much of an issue.

I spent the weekend coughing, aching, and nursing a horrible headache. My brain was unable to focus on anything. I spent my time listening to documentaries and medicating myself the best I could. It felt horrible.

My wife and mom didn’t say it at the time, but they were also worried about what Covid would do to me. At night, I’d almost be crying as I tried to breathe without coughing, sleeping almost sitting up in the bed. It was all so uncomfortable. I didn’t leave the room for three or four days and when I did leave, I was masked with gloves trying not to touch much. I really didn’t want them to get sick. I really wanted my wife to come and comfort me, come console me. It was emotionally hard to get through days and nights without her. I know it was uncomfortable for her as well as she slept on an air mattress in her office.

Thankfully, after around five days, I was able to return to work, though I couldn’t help out as much as normal, I still moved things forward in small ways. After another couple of days, we determined that I was unlikely still shedding virus and it might be safe for my wife to return to our bedroom again.

Here I am, two weeks later, still here, but still dealing with lingering issues. I continue to cough myself to exhaustion. I continue to get worn out quickly. I hope these remaining symptoms go away soon. It seems silly to me to feel like I ran a marathon when all I did was take out the garbage.

I also hope that I never get Covid again. My plan now is to try to get the next booster as soon as I am able in hopes that if I do catch it again, I don’t have as strong symptoms as I did this time.

I’m also so happy that neither my wife or mom seemed to end up getting Covid. They had no symptoms and tested negative using rapid tests constantly.

I still feel a ton of anxiety about Covid, though less now that I’ve been through it. I would love to be able to wake up someday, be a bit under the weather, and not worry that I have a respiratory virus in my system.

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