My ‘mild’ case of COVID-19 is no joke
It runs you over, sits on your chest and never lets up
“It won’t really affect me.”
I just turned 31 years old on Saturday and, like a lot of other young people, my age was my mantra when it came to COVID-19. I was unlikely to catch the coronavirus and, even if I did, I would simply rest for a day or two and be back on my feet.
When you keep hearing that 80% of cases are mild, it’s easy to shrug the whole thing off — even as you find yourself glued to a couch, too tired to pick yourself up.
After putting up with this illness for the better part of a week, I’m here to tell you: This is not a joke. Even the “mild” cases of this disease are serious.
This is the kind of illness that knocks you down, runs you over, sits on your chest and never, ever lets up. That’s how it felt to me, and I’m lucky enough to not have asthma or one of the many other conditions that can lead to further coronavirus complications.
It started with a little fever on March 19 — somewhere in the 99 degree range throughout most of the day, but it wasn’t enough for me to really feel it. Over the next few days, my fever began spiking at 101 and 102 degrees regularly, leaving me to swallow Tylenol for breakfast, lunch and dinner in the hopes of bringing the fever down.
The biggest domino fell three days after I started feeling sick, when my dad tested positive. He’s an emergency room doctor who had spent the better part of the past few weeks on the front lines fighting this thing.
‘Dr. Dad’ and ‘Dr. Mom’
Holing up during a global pandemic with “Dr. Dad” (and “Dr. Mom,” a pediatrician in private practice) comes with the benefit of medical advice just a few feet away at any time. But it does have a downside: Emergency room doctors can’t work from home.
And considering they’re on the front lines, it’s almost a given that they’ll catch it and pass it onto anyone else they’re quarantined with.
My eventual run-in with the new coronavirus was inevitable — and this is when it truly began knocking me down for the count.
On March 23, I drove myself to an urgent care in Marlboro, New Jersey, to get tested. A team of three employees took my temperature and administered the test — a cotton swab pushed just past the point of “comfortable” in the back of my nose. I had a 104 degree fever and uncontrollable shakes and shivers.
“You already know you’re positive,” I was told, after explaining my dad’s positive test.
Within an hour, I was completely sprawled out wearing (this is not a joke) a hoodie, sweater, robe, fuzzy socks and a beanie to try to keep warm until the next dose of Tylenol kicked in.
And that’s basically how things stayed for the rest of the week. I would wake up every day feeling like I had been hit by a bus, leaving behind this complete and total fatigue in every bone and muscle in my body.
You know that feeling when you first wake up and you have to push yourself to kick the covers off ?
Imagine that, but if it lasted all day.
Utterly exhausted
Doing simple tasks such as taking a shower or walking up a flight of stairs requires a recovery period, like after a workout. Getting up from the couch, pouring a glass of water and returning to the couch becomes a Tolkien-esque quest.
Another simple task rendered impossible? Eating. My appetite was gone. From Monday through Thursday, I only consumed two apples, a ham sandwich and what seemed like a few gallons of water to quench my never ending thirst.
The fact that just about every type of human activity left me utterly exhausted meant that I spent the week, more often than not, sitting on a couch or recliner for hours at a time.
Now, I’ll be honest: Before this happened to me, the idea of being forced to kick my feet up and watch television made self-quarantine seem pretty appealing. Sometimes after a busy week, that’s all I want to do.
But this? This is too much of a good thing.
Coronavirus is not an excuse for a staycation. It is a serious disease that can take out the young and relatively healthy, let alone senior citizens and those with compromised immune systems. I implore you: Stay home. Practice social distancing. The various mandates and guidelines passed in the wake of the pandemic were put in place to protect us.
As I said before: My run-in with coronavirus was inevitable. Yours doesn’t have to be.