My Covid Story
For the past two years, I feared getting Covid mostly because I grew up struggling to breathe. I had allergies and asthma, and was exposed to many allergens including cats and cigarette smoke, the latter being a product of growing up in the 80’s. Back then, they didn’t send you home with a nebulizer machine, so I spent some chunks of time in the Emergency Department to get relief from using the machine. If the simple act of cleaning out my closet, or getting any respiratory illness as an adult could set my bronchioles into spasm, why wouldn’t a potentially life threatening illness like Covid? My more rational mind, on the other hand, thought I would be just fine, perhaps after a lingering illness. These conflicting thoughts presented themselves often whenever I considered the possibility of getting Covid.
Around Christmas time this year, I became positive for Covid. As soon as I felt myself getting sick, I knew it was BAD, very bad. Right away, a few hours into feeling ill, I had chills and muscle aches. I was grateful to quickly get a test, and quarantine in my bedroom. At the sign of first symptoms, I took a handful of my usual immune protocol, with several extras including but not limited to: turmeric, fish oil, resveratrol, glutathione, quercetin, echinacea, garlic cloves, vitamin C, D, zinc, and LOTS of various herbs as well as my albuterol inhaler. I would take these continually throughout the day, each day.
For two days I wasn’t able to open my eyes without considerable pain. EVERYTHING hurt. My eyes, head, back, legs and throat were miserable. My eyes and back were a ten out of ten on the pain scale. Forty eight hours later, I succumbed to pain relievers and would stay on them for three more days around the clock, and then less frequently for the next two. I knew I was still feverish, so this was against my principles of medicating a fever, but I couldn’t take the pain severity.
The body’s fever response has the important role of raising the body’s temperature to combat the invading virus (or bacteria or parasite). Furthermore, taking an anti-inflammatory for muscle pain makes the tissues less durable, less likely to repair, and more likely to break down in the future. This perpetuates a long term dependence on the anti-inflammatories. I typically avoid pain relievers when sick so that I don’t suppress the immune response. But I needed it this time, in a very big way. The back pain was so severe that I knew when the pain medication was wearing off because the unbearable aching would creep back in. The back pain would wake me up throughout the night, and there were times I couldn’t sit, lie, or stand without great pain. I couldn’t get comfortable, in any position.
By day three, I had abdominal cramping and I couldn’t keep broth in my system for any length of time. I called my doctor because the chest pain and asthma were concerning. My chest and lungs were heavy and burned. Getting out of bed and making it to the bathroom around the corner raised my heart rate substantially, which was scary, and I was dizzy and lightheaded. My doctor sounded worried and scheduled another telehealth visit for the following day, but first she recommended that I eat cream of wheat and mashed potatoes. I didn’t tell her that those would be some of the worst things I could eat. (It would be helpful for our country right now if medical doctors had more training in nutrition, but I digress.) By this point I was only able to have chicken broth, bone broth, and a little chicken soup. When I could stomach it, I moved onto broccoli seeds and raw brussel sprouts for their sulforaphane content. I also had lots of tea. I was very grateful for my sister, a nurse, who sent me a pulse oximeter so I could check my heart rate and oxygen levels at my worst. I wasn’t able to care for myself so my daughter left drinks at my bedroom door for the worst days.
These were days that in retrospect ran together. I had chills and a fever for days, mixed with blurs of fever dreams, waking in pain and disorientation. I also had bouts of crying which is very unusual for me. In retrospect, I do not recommend watching all three seasons of The Leftovers when sick with Covid. It may have contributed to the darkness I felt. Watching something much more uplifting would have been a better choice!
After recovering, the return to my regular schedule and to work had to be slow. Several weeks and up to about a month later I was still getting symptoms which arose seemingly out of nowhere. I would wake feeling great and then it would hit me sometime midday or in the afternoon. I had a dull ache of a sore throat and a headache, and a feeling of gland congestion in my neck, and sometimes a heaviness in my head. I was also achy with malaise.
I don’t get colds very often and at the first sign of illness, the supplements I take tend to send it away immediately. With this, it was different. I am not sure if I would have been sicker if I hadn’t taken any of the immune protocol. I am inclined to think that I would have been sicker. But I am pretty sure I would have felt sicker if I had eaten cream of wheat (with a gluten sensitivity!) and mashed potatoes.
The whole thing could have been much worse. I managed to keep Covid from my family and kids. I could have been worse off with a much more negative outcome. Yet, it was humbling to witness the quick progression of this disease, especially for a healthy and vaccinated individual. The illness served as a reminder to not take my health for granted. It also reiterated the importance of continually emphasizing self care, both mentally and physically. I am much more mindful of the details in how I take care of myself. Maybe it won’t stick forever. But I am also not getting any younger, like everyone else. How I take care of myself will only be more significant as time goes on. I now take things a bit more slowly, in general. I will admit that before all of this I felt a bit more invincible. Now you could say that I am listening to my body at a higher decibel.
