I have COVID right now: hour-by-hour account of my decent
This has been … not fun, to say the least.
Since testing positive for COVID, I’ve been out of bed for a grand total of about 30–40 minutes per day and spend most of my time just … staring.
Staring out the window, starting at my phone occasionally, but mostly just staring at nothing. Until this point, that’s all I’ve really had the energy to do.
A shade above catatonic, I tried watching the movie Tenet on my laptop and it simply wasn’t holding my attention. I was bored, and boredom is not a good place for me. So I got to writing this blow-by-blow of how the disease absolutely crushed me over the course of a few days.
Let’s start at the start.
Friday
10 p.m.: It’s been a very long day. It’s my kids’ competitive sports tryout week and, if you have kids in competitive sports, you know how deeply draining this experience is.
Somehow I’ve managed to get myself to the gym and back, but I’ve now developed the slightest scratchy throat. Hmm. I did turn the heat on a couple days this week, maybe it’s the dry air.
Saturday
12 a.m.— 10 a.m.: Unconscious.
10:01 a.m.: Well that’s definitely curious. I do NOT sleep 10 hours a night as a rule and I’m still having trouble dragging myself out of bed.
I go downstairs and make a smoothie for myself and my kids. I bring that smoothie to my computer to check stats, update spreadsheets I use to track various goals I have, write some morning pages, etc.
11 a.m.: OK, I slept a lot, yet I’m still completely gassed. I’ve recently quit caffeine but I finally cave for one day. I have stuff to do and I’m just not rallying. Also, I’m starting to feel really stiff in my back and glutes while I’m sitting at the computer (I mean, a lot moreso than usual).
My spidey senses are tingling.
11:01 a.m.: Sip sip coffee coffee. Now I feel wired mentally but I’m barely able to move physically. Stupid, James.
I drag myself back to bed to kick off a long day of … staring. And not moving. I feel like I did at the start of a bout of mono. I gargle some mouthwash in my increasingly scratchy throat.
12 p.m.: I’m developing painful patches of skin all over my body. This is very random, so I grab a rapid test. I believe this to be COVID.
1 p.m.: Swab swab, swish swish, drip drip drip, wait wait.
Line 1 is magenta. Goddamn it.
2 p.m. — 5 p.m.: Various new and exciting takes on staring. I send a handful of emails to do away with various obligations I have scheduled. Other than that, my brain feels too tired to even look at the laptop my wife has brought me.
5:01 p.m.: OK, that’s been A LOT of staring. I’m starting to feel brave and I need some nutrients. Also, I’m getting HOT. I make a different frozen fruit smoothie. Feels fine in my stomach but now I’m absolutely shaking from the cold. My skin is boiling though. It’s fever time y’all.
5:45 p.m.: Stupid decision time. My wife has brought me Tylenol for my fever, but I have thus far avoided taking it.
My theory is that my immune system is working, so why not let it work? In fact, since my immune system is working hard and I’m now shivering uncontrollably, why not have a hot shower to give said immune system a boost?
God I’m an idiot sometimes.
6 p.m.: I’m out of the shower and now I’m absolutely roasting. I’m laying in front of a fan to try to cool off. As I do this, I … stare.
6:01 p.m. — 9 p.m.: I’ve been on various messaging apps talking to people. My best buddy is sending me ideas for what to binge watch. I settle on The Industry on HBO but I’m still too tired to even roll over and set up the laptop. I also feel bad that I started Tenet the other night and it’s just sitting there, half-watched. I don’t know why, but I feel obligated to wrap that up first.
9 p.m.: I’m extremely hot now and I worry about my fever. The battery in our old thermostat is dead and my wife couldn’t find a replacement at the store, so earlier in the day she’d picked up a new thermostat. I was deeply annoyed because I’m so cheap, but I’m happy to have it now. I’m starting to shake uncontrollably.
10:00 p.m.: I take my temperature. I’m pushing 104 F. I Google to see if that’s bad. Yes, that’s bad. According to Dr. Google, at some point if your fever stays too high for too long, it can damage your internal organs.
I need to get this down.
With my hands so shaky I can barely manipulate the bottle, I pour the liquid in the cup and manage to drink the medicine. I’m simultaneously hot and cold. I’m frozen on the inside and burning on the outside.
How do you like that “don’t take Tylenol and have a hot shower” plan now, ya friggin’ idiot?
My shaking is starting to subside, so I fill a water bottle with ice and put some frozen blueberries and strawberries in a bowl to eat. Aren’t I helpful to my body temperature today? It drops below 103 F.
A friend tells me via Messenger that I need to get my core temperature down. I send back a picture of Kramer in the hot tub in that one episode of Seinfeld. My friend finds this funny.
I say goodnight to my kids from afar.
11:00 p.m.: I give Tenet another go but I’m just not feeling it. I check my temp again and it’s now in the green range. I assume this is only temporary so I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. to take more Tylenol if necessary. My eyes are drooping. I wrap up writing this post for the night, gargle some more mouthwash, and brush my teeth.
Sometimes when I’m trying to sleep, I’ll listen to as boring of a podcast as I possibly can. Tonight I’ll be learning about Canadian National Railway’s 2022 Grain Plan.
Sunday
5 a.m.: My alarm goes off and I wake up. I still feel OK. Alarm off, back to sleep.
7 a.m.: I wake up again and I am cooking. Fever is being real persistent. More Tylenol, back to sleep.
10 a.m.: I wake up and do a bit of casual staring.
My temperature has returned to normal so naturally I’m going to be overconfident and do something dumb.
I order some food for my son because I don’t want to contaminate anything and head to my computer to do those aforementioned spreadsheets and write some Morning Pages.
Oh, and I’ve begun drinking a bit of coffee because I don’t want to lose another full day to my staring activities. I’m not happy about this.
To be honest, I’m a little impressed with myself that, despite being in the throes of Covid, I’ve managed to stick with my Pages. I currently have a list of lifestyle do’s and don’ts, and I’m trying to reach 66 days on all of them. Sixty-six days is the average amount of time it takes to really solidify a new habit, according to one oft-cited study. I’m on Day 70 for Morning Pages, so I’m fairly confident that I can now call this a Good Habit.
Anyway, back to being dumb. I sit at my computer, start updating my spreadsheets, and immediately almost puke on my keyboard.
Sigh, back to bed for some more quality staring time.
11:00 a.m.: I assume my nausea is caused by drinking Tylenol and coffee and nothing else, so once my stomach settles a bit, I make another frozen fruit smoothie and lurch back to bed to drink it. I stare a bit while chatting with my wife, who already had a recent bout of COVID.
The smoothies are really all I’m consuming right now. They’re packed with nutrients (banana, blueberry, strawberry, kale, chia seeds, a touch of pomegranate juice, water and ice) and also serve to cool my body down, but I can see that I’m losing weight. I’m a pretty skinny guy to begin with, and as I study the mirror, my eyes already look a touch sunken.
12:30 p.m.: Laying on my side, I write my Morning Pages (good job by me!) and update this post. I’m feeling super drained right now, so this is where I’ll take a break.
1:30 p.m. — 9 p.m.: This has been the worst period of illness so far. My fever is not breaking, which is fine, but the accompanying headache and nausea have knocked me right out. I’m no longer even staring, I’m just laying in the dark with my eyes closed. This is all I have any desire to do.
At around 5 p.m., I rouse myself to try and make some banana on toast. By the time the toast pops, I’m keeled over and making my way upstairs to dive into my bed so I don’t throw up. My wife finishes the toast and brings it up. I eat it while lying on my side.
For the next two hours or so, I compulsively refresh a web site to see if my son made his competitive sports team — the last session finished at 4:50.
Finally, the roster is posted, and he is back with his squad. I’m happy for him and the team. He has a fantastic coach and great bunch of teammates, and they’ll be trying for three consecutive championships this season.
My younger son made his team Friday.
Tryout week is over. Thank God.
8 p.m.: I’ve avoided taking Tylenol all day and I still have the high fever to show for it. I decide it’s time, because I desperately want to sleep through the night tonight and keep healing up.
Half an hour later, with the medicine kicking in, I fire up Tenet again. I know, I know, why can’t I let this go?
I last about 10 minutes and finally decide to stop making “James watches Tenet while recovering from COVID” a thing. I’m still so tired. I put my headphones on and drift off at around 9:45 p.m.
Monday
Approximately 3–4 a.m.: The good news is I’ve been enjoying as deep of a sleep as I’ve managed with COVID. The bad news? I’m so drenched from fever sweats that I have to get up and change my clothes and re-adjust my bed. I do so and pass out again.
6 a.m.: I’m starting to wake up. I take my temperature again and it’s high, but I do feel a bit better. Like, not better enough to jump out of bed, but I don’t feel quasi-delirious. I’m also still completely gassed, so I just lay on my side and look at my phone.
8 a.m.: I take my temperature. It’s in the green. Nice! It’s starting to fluctuate between green and red now, so I’m hopeful that I’m through the worst of this.
9 a.m.: Feeling inspired, I get out of bed to make more banana on toast. Out of curiosity, I decide to weigh myself. By my count, I’ve had a grand total of 2–3 fruit soothies, some ice water, and two pieces of banana toast over the past three days.
I have lost 7 pounds.
I go to my computer to update some spreadsheets and do some banking, but within about 30 seconds, I’m keeled over and rushing back to my bed to avoid vomiting.
Slow down there, cowboy. We’re not done yet.
I lay on my side awaiting delivery of more banana on toast and, now, Gatorade. I manage to prop myself up in such a way that I can update this post to this point in the COVID journey and (cautiously) eat, but I’m running out of steam again.
12:30 p.m.: After another prodigious staring session, I drift into one of the most satisfying 90-minute naps I’ve had this lifetime. I come out of it fatigued still, but I feel like something’s changing. A good sleep, temp below fever level most of the day, and I actually feel hungry.
It is now 2:30 p.m., I go downstairs, make a bowl of cereal, and update this post. I have now been upright for 30 minutes — a big victory!
3:40 p.m.: Uhg, back to bed.
5:30 p.m.: Tylenol time. I’ve figured out that this gives me about a three-hour window to eat, shower, move about a bit, and update this post. Which brings me to…
8:30 p.m.: I decide that, with my fever waning and the worst seemingly behind me (outside of the crippling fatigue and nausea when standing), it’s probably time to wrap up this post. Should anything exciting happen over the next few days, maybe I’ll come back and write an epilogue.
Final thoughts
COVID is a roulette wheel. When my son had it, he was pale and tired for a couple of days. When my wife had it a couple months ago, she had one horrible week, one deeply crappy week, and then kept the remnants of a bad cough for about a month after.
I’m still very thankful I didn’t have the cough.
In retrospect, I do think that my body was trying to fight this off before I was ever really cognizant of it.
I like to go to the gym at night, yet this week I just couldn’t drag myself there. I was just unusually tired. I also had a random ache in my arm that I couldn’t explain by injury or artivity. I imagine my body was telling me something was wrong by Wednesday night, even though I only tested postitive on Saturday morning.
In some ways, I think I mismanaged my illness. That hot shower while carrying a high fever was deeply stupid.
I do feel that the habit of gargling mouthwash every time I felt a little tingle or dryness in my throat may have kept some pain and coughing away. I doubt that’s a scientifically sound theory, but I do know that the placebo effect is.
I think I’ve pinpointed where and when I picked it up (packed sports facility with poor ventilation earlier in the week), but I do wonder if outside factors may have contributed to my getting COVID now after not contracting it while it was actually in my house twice before.
Stress lowers your immune system, and this was as stressful a week as I’ve had in a long time. Of course, we’ve all had long-term stress throughout this pandemic, but this week there was a batch of acute issues that probably lowered my defences somewhat.
Did stress have an effect? I’m not sure, really. I think getting COVID was probably like a plane crash — it isn’t one big thing that goes wrong, usually. It’s many small things compounding on each other.
In summary, my review of the COVID experience: 0/5 stars, do not recommend.
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