A Day in My Life with Coronavirus Symptoms
I’m feeling neither better nor worse but something’s changing
Day 3
I awoke this morning with a strange taste in my mouth. Kinda metallic, I guess. I don’t like it one little bit. I was hoping I’d feel better today, given two days have passed since I first developed a sore throat and 38°c fever.
9 am
I call down to DH (dear husband) for a cup of tea which he kindly produces within five minutes.
“Ugh,” say I, after taking a sip of what tastes like a cross between soot mixed with lapsang souchong. “What kind of tea is this?”
“The usual kind,” DH replies, calmly. (Luckily he doesn’t get riled easily, unlike me.)
Dear God, I’ve lost my sense of taste.
12 am
I light my favourite Elemis candle and wait for its soothing notes of lavender, geranium and eucalyptus to hit my nostrils.
I’m still waiting when the DH materialises with my lunch; mushroom and cheese omelette on rye bread. Have I mentioned that I love my husband?
“Can you smell my candle?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he responds.
Dear God, I’ve lost my sense of smell.
1 pm
The highlight of my day comes with a knock on the front door.
I hear DH ask: “Who is it?
“Delivery.”
“Expecting anything?” DH stands at our bedroom door moments later with a book-size package in his hand.
“No,” I pull at the cardboard box trying to get to whatever’s inside; it’s like trying to break into Fort Knox.
I am definitely weaker than usual.
Finally, I get the box open and reveal three bars of chocolate – good, organic chocolate.
I squeal in excitement. This is serendipity in action: I'd been craving chocolate.
I read the accompanying card:
“Secret admirer?” Asks DH, a little dryly.
I can’t reply because my mouth is stuffed with chocolate.
Three bars later, I send texts to everyone I know with the initial D: It turns out to be my bestie/maid of honour.
I send her a message of thanks:
I LOVE YOU! LET’S GET MARRIED!
1:30 pm
I was due to take part in an online conference between 2 and 4 pm but I know I won’t be able to concentrate so I cry off.
Instead, I take a nap then listen to the closing chapters of My Cousin Rachel. As the protagonists hold hands in the final paragraph, I feel tears sliding down my face.
4 pm
I sit in our garden for half an hour. There’s no sun but I’m sure the fresh air must be good for me. My dog comes out, takes one look at me, turns tail and goes back inside.
5–6 pm
I’m feeling well enough to take part in my weekly zoom novel writing group. There are three of us — C, F and me — and each week we read and give constructive criticism on one of our works-in-progress. This week it’s F’s turn and we spend a happy hour in San Francisco’s 1940s Italian quarter.
As we come to the end of our session, C shares that her husband, an ICU nurse has told her that Day six seems to be the turning point with COVID-19 symptoms, either for better or for worse, so I should look out for that day.
I mark Tuesday 21st in my diary with a badly-drawn hourglass.
7–8 pm
My six-year-old grandson video calls me to say goodnight. He is dressed in his spiderman outfit. When he called me earlier, it was to show off his new pilot suit in which he was dancing around his living room. He invited me to take part but I told him I needed to stay laying down.
“How are you feeling now yiayia?” He asks me. I give him an age-appropriate reply. We chat about our day until DH appears with supper: Seared Honey Duck Breast with a Berry Jus and Roasted Garlic Mash which he serves up with rice and salad. And a small glass of red wine.
We then listen to The Marriage of Figaro on separate smart speakers in different rooms while we enjoy our dinner in isolated togetherness.
I realise there is nothing wrong with my appetite.
Dear God, thank you.
©️marla bishop 2020
Marla Bishop is a writer and relationship coach specialising in helping others live lives they totally love. She lives in London UK with her husband and youngest two children. You can follow her here.
