It wasn’t Covid but it was awful

FRESHERS’ flu, festival flu … whatever you call it, is it still a thing when you’re firmly in your 30s and haven’t really left the house in weeks?

Yes, after 18 months of living in a germ-free bubble, I recently came down with an epic case of, well, something.

Thankfully, a PCR test proved that it wasn’t coronavirus, although that was of little comfort as I wheezed my way from my bed to the bathroom for more painkillers, feverish and coughing up razorblades (or so it felt).

I’m usually prone to every cough and cold going – but for the last year and a half I’ve been breathing freely, safe from the germs of a shared office.

Although I’ve been waiting for the first postlockdown sickness, I wasn’t quite prepared for the mental toll that my 10 days of self-imposed isolation would take.

Is anyone else just a little bit anxious about heading back into the world again?

“There’s something going about just now” is one of those things we say – sickness small talk, not far removed from “the nights are fair drawing in” or “what’s for you won’t go by you” (and both seem strangely ominous when you’re talking about this dreaded lurgy).

But a quick head count of friends and co-workers has shown that I know lots of people suffering the same symptoms over the last few weeks – all of them worried that it was Covid, then relieved that it wasn’t but perturbed as to what was going on in their chests for days on end.

I wasn’t anxious about socialising before that first tickle in my throat. The thought of heading back to the office or out to visit friends didn’t bother me.

And then cue one night out at a trendy new wine bar – safely distanced and sanitised, no less – followed by a long week of sickness, stress and fatigue and I was ready to close the shutters on the world for good.

It’s a question many of us will be asking ourselves post-Covid – how often we dragged ourselves out of the house before, sniffling and sneezing all over the people we worked with and spreading germs in the name of showing up, not being a quitter.

“It’s just a cold”, we’d say in between coughing fits, desks strewn with tissues. I can still make that meeting/party/moment I should probably just give a miss.

With the world now used to working from home, we may have more options – and socially acceptable ones at that – even as office life comes back into focus.

Perhaps it will even encourage us to take the time off when we need it, to rest and recuperate instead of “pushing through” and avoid getting rundown in the first place.

In the meantime, I’m taking tentative steps back out into the world, hand sanitiser and mask always within reach.

Whether it’s Covid or that mysterious “something else”, it’s perhaps no bad thing when the universe reminds you to look after yourself more as the nights, ahem, draw in.