Fear & Fragility in the Age of COVID

 This has been a heck of a week. I go out to dinner - me, the hermit queen. I go out ONE TIME... 

So I went out with my family for a bit of dinner last Friday and it was nice. The place we went to was taking all the safety measures - lots of distance between tables, staff wearing masks, the whole bit. Plus, there were only 2 parties in the entire place. My family of 3 was at a table on one side of the large dining room and another, larger party was on the other. In between serving us, we never saw the staff.

We had a decent lunch and it was fun to be chatting and hanging out where we didn't have to clear away or wash dishes. Afterward, we went for a little drive around the lake. Then I went home. I was out of my apartment for less than 2 hours. Maybe an hour and 40 minutes. It was just enough time to enjoy my family and not too much for my anxiety to kick in.

That was Friday afternoon. By Saturday evening, I wasn't feeling great. I felt hot and dried out, then cold and clammy. The skin on my belly felt so hot at one point, it scared me. I never get fevers. I think I had one once when I was in the hospital with sarcoidosis.  

I had been feeling so icky that I had put my computer on the bed so I could do my Bible reading without getting up. I stopped everything and ordered a thermometer online.

And then I slept. I think I must have slept from that Saturday off and on until my family called to see if I was coming to dinner at their house. They hadn't gotten my message about not feeling well. And that is scary. Scary to think that my messages were getting missed. Great. So no Easter dinner with the family for me.  I had cold medicine in an emergency kit so I took some and carried bottled water, a roll of tissue and some baby wipes back to bed with me.

I slept through the usual family text messages we send for holidays. When I missed one from Arizona, one of my brothers there called to check on me. I was feeling better. Must have been all the sleep. 

After lectures about COVID and vaccines from my worried brother, I went back to sleep. And I slept clean through until Monday around 10 when the mailman knocked. My thermometer was here. And I wasn't feeling so great. 

Other than my sarcoid and the meds I take for it, I don't get super sick. I get every cold that comes within a hundred yards of our town but I don't get sick the way I felt sick this time. The hot-dry-cold-clammy-chilled-burning up.... That worried me but I knew I hadn't lost my sense of taste because I was sure tasting the cough drops I had.  I was too wiped out to Google for COVID symptoms. 

I waited for the thermometer to arrive and when it did, I was grateful it was easy to figure out. It's simple and easy to read. I was in no mood for figuring things out.

From the memory function, I know that my temp ran from 98.1 to 99.6 to an even 100. And, as I said, I don't get fevers. I don't think I've ever gotten past 98.5.

At the time, I didn't appreciate the helpful frowny-face that the thermometer displays for high temps. It was still smiling at above 98 but started scowling for 100 degrees.

This is the thing about living alone. You get used to dealing with your anxiety and nerves on your own on a daily basis. I have felt unwell and not worried before because I knew what was wrong and I knew it would pass. I get slightly ill once a week from meds. I sometimes have problems with my balance. I know what to do in those cases. Drink plenty of fluids for the weekly sickness and when I get unsteady on my feet, I sit or lay down for long periods. No big. But this... This was like a regular old nasty flu bug.

Me: no unusual shortness of breath & no coughing

I didn't want to worry my family so I just kept telling them that I had a bad cold and was resting up. But at one point, I scared myself when I couldn't come out of the chills. I texted my SIL that I would go to the clinic if I didn't feel better soon.

Spoiler: I survived. I started feeling better this morning. I was able to get up and make toast and tea. I still don't have the energy to trust standing in the shower (as badly as I need one!) but I have been up and on my feet. I took out my trash. I just ordered some things from the store - soup, bread, peanut butter, more cold meds, and some coconut water to help re-hydrate. I'm still staying extra-isolated. I don't want to come in contact with anyone for at least another couple of weeks. Just in case. I'm not seeing my family and when I get groceries, I have the delivery left outside my door. Just. In. Case. From what I understand, 20 days is a safe period of isolation. No problem here.

I'm just ranting a little here. I guess I want to commiserate with all my other Living Single singles. Now that we are living in the age of this superbug virus, life feels a little more fragile. Or at least it does for me.

Just so you all know, I am not afraid of dying. I think I've said that here before. Being dead doesn't bother me because I won't stay dead. It's the whole "getting dead" part that doesn't sound fun.

Anyway.

I am back. I think. While I am isolating, I have plenty of backed-up reviews to do. I have been saving things up for a couple of months so... 

For now, I am happy to be able to sit up and focus on something other than feeling icky.

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I am publishing this post a few days after writing it. I had one day when the fatigue came back for a brief visit. Now I am back to my usual run-of-the-mill fatigue and, boy, I won't complain about it so much anymore!