Facing the Unthinkable

Something wasn’t right; I couldn’t put my finger on it. I’d just returned from Phoenix, Arizona after a lengthy stay. Building a home more than two thousand miles away certainly came with its own set of unique logistical challenges. Each time we traveled, we religiously followed the guidelines. My hands were often cracked from repeated hand washing and sanitizing. I masked up and practiced social distancing just as the experts recommended.

Long flights, busy airports, and Uber rides were essential ingredients of busy travel days. That Sunday, I crossed the threshold of my home, left my bags at the door, grabbed a bite to eat, and went to bed. Over the next few days, I couldn’t find the energy to complete the most basic of tasks. I developed body aches and came down with a stubborn fever that didn’t want to go away. To be safe, I took a Covid test, and what I feared the most became a reality.

You want to believe you did all of the right things. I replayed the events of the past few days in my mind wondering where it all went wrong. Now there I was lying in bed, barely able to move, with Covid-19 raging on inside of me. Why me? How did I get covid after successfully evading it for more than a year?

For almost 15 days, I roamed the house alone struggling to catch my breath. I could barely eat, and if I did, it didn’t stay in me long. Thanks to the disease, I developed pneumonia as well. A short walk from one room to another left me winded, and that was by far the most troubling symptom. Losing my taste and smell was a close second.

Being cooped up in the house alone not knowing if I’d take a turn for the worst was a feeling that I never wish to feel again. As someone who enjoys being a homebody, being confined under those circumstances felt like a prison. My thoughts and my fears ran wild. I’d lay in the bed some nights just staring at the wall. Nothing on the television kept my attention. Writing felt like a chore. Insomnia gnawed at me. I didn’t sleep for almost 8 days straight.

There was a shadow that seemed to loom over me. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I questioned my own mortality; I most certainly did. I was convinced I was going to die. People rarely talk about the immense guilt that comes with having Covid. I feared I infected my loved ones. Thankfully everyone I came in contact with before I knew I was sick remained healthy.

Thank God, it didn’t take me out, although it was a beast at the time. I’m glad to be alive. I don’t have any lingering effects. I’m glad to be on the other side of this horrible illness. My heart goes out to those who’ve lost loved ones, and also to those who deal with its lasting effects. Please be safe out there.