DAY 23 COVID
Week 4 of Covid and Cough, Cough, Cough!
It’s not over until it’s over, and your mileage may vary
Don’t you get tired of that spiky red Covid ball photo?
Me too, plus I’m working at the Oregon coast this week. Might as well flip this Covid attitude and find a silver lining, right?
About a month ago, my husband and I had our two grandsons and his daughter with us a few days. The five-year-old stayed with us, and his mom drove home.
Within twenty-four hours, he was horribly ill. I took care of him. High fever, vomiting, chills. He was a mess. Then, I was too! Whee!
As a cancer survivor, I remarked to his mother that my husband and I couldn’t get sick like this too many more times. Yes, my sweet husband, closing in on 70, got it too.
She said, “You can’t live in a bubble. Covid is the new flu. You’re lucky you didn’t get it when it was worse.”
And that anecdote should reveal a lot about how some thirty-somethings feel about their parents’ exposure to Covid. I’m laughing! Ha, ha! Hee Hee! Ho Ho!
Okay, not really laughing. But what else can you do? Can I purchase a bubble on Prime? Gonna check on that.
This is not medical advice
If you get Covid, check in with your doctor. With that disclaimer said, I’m going to tell you what I do and what works for me. This is my fourth week with this virus, which has some lingering effects.
First, try not to be too annoyed with those who had a light case who imply you’re exaggerating your fatigue or symptoms.
“Oh, I tested positive, but I just had a little sniffly nose! Not bad! I got vaccinated, did you?”
- Answer 1: No! I’m an anti vaxxer, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to get pregnant! Oh, I’m 62. Why do you ask?
- Answer2: Hell, yes. I stood in a line to get my first vaccine eighteen hours after a major surgery. I could barely stand up.
I’ve learned not to talk about my Covid issues too much. I’m just taking care of my own little self.
I’ve relied heavily on all my favorite cold medications
Anything with “cold and flu” in the name is what I’ve used. Tonight I’m swigging from Mucinex Night Shift, the sapphire blue bottle. I won’t sleep without it. I’ve also used Dayquil, Nyquil, and Alka Seltzer fizzy cold medicine (tablets you drop in water).
Don’t I use a spoon? No! I don’t measure. I just tip the bottle! Sweet cherry wine!
During the day, I keep a bowl of Ricola cough drops handy. I may have six or so a day. I sometimes use my asthma inhaler.
I swear quite a bit, frustrated with the cough, but try to keep it down!
The strangest item I consume, which I usually don’t, is juice
I don’t mean cheap juice. I’m buying ginger turmeric juice, cold-pressed with vegetables. I’m drinking some fancy raspberry juice loaded with celery and beetroots. Fancy-assed juice with silt in the bottom.
My favorite is carrot juice. It is ridiculously expensive, all of it. I know the sugar isn’t great for me, but it’s what I want.
I am craving it. I understand carrot juice is supposed to be excellent for lung ailments. It’s full of antioxidants, and vitamins A and C.
And yes, I know eating the actual vegetables and fruit is healthier. I just don’t feel like eating much. That said, when I feel like eating I’m not at all picky and will slam anything down. My diet is off. This isn’t “normal” me.
This is some weird coughing beast just trying to survive another day.
This is the 23rd day of my Covid experience
I’m pretty sure I’ve had the Omicron variant, mostly because according to Mayo and Oregon Health Authority, Omicron was the variant most seen in Oregon the last week of June. I’ve linked both sites. My primary takeaway on the Mayo site is that vaccines are still the best bet to keep from getting ill. That said, the Mayo site notes that “immune evasion” is occurring. In other words, previous cases and vaccines may not help at all.
The Oregon Health Authority site is hard to navigate. I hope you’re not an Oregonian, but I’ve linked it if you want a look.
I’m working hard at not letting Covid rob me of my summer, but it’s been three weeks now and I’m still not feeling like myself. I’m at the beach house, cleaning it out for a family staying for five days.
It’s a lot of work, and I’m taking some walks on the beach too. Breathing the salt air in deeply, and trying to cough it on through. It takes hours to get work done, as every hour I have to sit down for ten minutes. Good thing I’m my own boss here.
I’m worried for all the exhausted employees out there and hope bosses are being compassionate. Most I’ve had weren’t.
I wonder how many unreported cases are out there. I sure wasn’t going to a clinic or hospital when I was burning up with fever that first week. I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to have this horrible virus. My doctor knows I had Covid though, as I checked in with her to get antivirals. I only took them for a day, as I reacted with them. Hives and swelling, that kind of thing.
More people are sick than are shown in statistics, I’m guessing.
I’m still coughing a lot at night
As soon as I lay down, I feel my lungs tighten up. If I don’t swig a healthy gulp of cough syrup, I cough all night. As I said, I don’t even bother with a spoon anymore. I’m like that person swigging out of a brown paper bag.
It’s a horrible, painful dry cough. It hurts my chest and makes me see stars. When the cough hits me during the day, if I’m driving my car, I’m afraid I’m going to pass out. I’ve learned to suppress the cough if I can, long enough to pull over.
The cough is the worst part of this fourth week of Covid
The runner-up is the fatigue.
When my dad was on hospice, the nurse nodded knowingly and said, “the body will dictate what he can do.” Dad had an energy store he could draw on. It was like money in the bank. At some point in the day, he was out of energy and mostly slept or quietly watched TV.
I haven’t experienced this kind of fatigue in a long time. I’m just very content to sit around, and I’ve never been that person. I feel like my backside is squishing out like Kim Kardashian’s. Yes, I’m doing that much sitting.
While I’m perched here on the couch exhausted, I’m also thinking about my nearly constant mild headache. Every day, all the time.
I’ve had tinnitus since the first day, a buzz in my ears constantly.
And my throat has been sore for days from this dry hack.
A friend called on the phone earlier expressing concern about the drop in cognitive brain function caused by covid. Nothing I can do about that. I’ll add that having sleep this poor for days is doing nothing for my conversational skills.
Some days I feel like a robot, with a flat affect. I wish I could charge myself!
In the online article linked in the sentence above, I learn that it’s the equivalent of a year of age on the brain. Great! It’s turning into a rough year, but I’ll get through this. I hope you do too! Have you had this virus yet?
Stock up that medicine cabinet, and throw some soup in the cupboard. Preparation is key!