Me and Covid

Today (Monday) I got my second Covid-19 shot. In two weeks I should be immune. It’s been a long journey to get here.

            Last March I actually caught the coronavirus. The last week of March to be exact. I called in sick one Thursday, so tired and with a sore throat. My boss heard my gravelly voice and noted my lethargy and instructed me to get tested. It was Covid. From that Thursday I didn’t return to my office for two months!

            I was lucky in some ways – I didn’t lose taste or smell, and I didn’t have any respiratory issues at all. But I was unlucky in others: my worst symptoms were extreme fatigue, extreme brain fog, and (yikes) extreme diarrhea. So extreme, I wore adult diapers for two months. It’s so embarrassing to admit, but that was my Covid. I subsisted on beef broth and Pedialyte, it was the only way to keep nutrients in my body, since actual food tended to go straight through. 

            I ended up losing some significant weight in the form of loss of muscle mass. I had to climb the stairs on all fours, since my legs couldn’t do it on their own. I couldn’t close my fists to grasp things, couldn’t turn doorknobs, couldn’t open cans. I still can’t open water bottles.

            About half way through my second week of Covid, I started experiencing pain in all my joints, large and small. A lot of pain. As soon as I was released from quarantine, I consulted my health care provider. Turns out joint inflammation after Covid is a common tale. In fact, I’ve heard it said that long-term effects from Covid are more the rule, than the exception. I believe it.

            Two immediate things came out of my visit with my health care provider. I got a prescription for a better painkiller. It didn’t completely combat the pain, but brought it down to bearable. The second – and very best – thing we did was start physical therapy, and later added occupational therapy. I had requested it. I knew I wasn’t moving right, due to pain. I knew that by compensating for it, I was probably causing more damage. And, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember how I used to move! 

            The effects of therapy were immediate. Not for mobility or pain, although those would follow pretty quickly, but for the sense that I was actually able to do something for myself!

            One of the worst problems caused by my joint pain was the inability to stand up. I couldn’t get up from the couch, from the car, from the toilet. Some weeks into my therapy, after working to strengthen and re-train my muscles, I suddenly could stand up from a chair! I left the session that day feeling high! I went straight to the office and made everyone watch me sit and then – stand! And they celebrated with me! For weeks, I would show anyone who would watch, I can stand up! I’m sure I showed my husband and son several times, “Did I show you how I can stand up now? Watch this!”

            The other piece of progress was realizing that something else was going on with my hands. They were arthritic, and pretty severely so. I couldn’t hold onto anything. I cut all my long hair off, because I couldn’t hold onto a brush well enough to actually brush it. I couldn’t eat certain foods because I couldn’t hold onto the fork well enough to actually get it into my mouth. So I got a referral to the rheumatology clinic at Mayo. By the time I got there, therapy had made great strides in my mobility, and some of the pain, some of the symptoms; now we were finally getting down to the “why.”

            Well, to make is short (I know, too late) I’m somewhere between Rheumatoid and Psoriatic arthritis. I like to think of it as a special blend just for me! The good news is both are treated the same – so we have a plan! Which brings be back around to Covid.

            One of the affects of my new medication is that it can suppress my own natural immunities, so before I could start it, I had to first get some shots: pneumonia, shingles, and Covid. Today marks my second Covid shot. I’m done – my meds are underway! 

            I can’t cast all the blame for my arthritis on Covid. Our working theory is that it was something I already had in my genes and that Covid effectively kicked it into gear. I probably had these issues in my future, but maybe far into my future. My muscle loss was a direct result of Covid, and really complicated matters.

            Covid is not even remotely fun. It’s not the same thing as spending a day at home because you have a cold, where you can snuggle up and drink cocoa. It’s miserable. And my symptoms were mild! My brain fog left me in a stupor for the brief periods when I was awake – I didn’t even have enough attention span to watch TV! Still, my symptoms were mild compared to so many others.

            So why am I telling you all this? Especially the gross, embarrassing parts? Because I got my second Covid shot today. I am celebrating that I came through it. With complications yes, but through it. I have a plan, I’m making progress. I didn’t die. I am celebrating by urging you to get yours. And if you can’t get your second shot, because you haven’t had your first shot? Please get that one. 

            If you don’t believe in the efficacy of the immunization, please talk to your healthcare provider about it. The best decisions are the ones made together between patient and provider.