I tested “positive” for Covid-19.
Having felt sick, I contacted an Urgent Care unit in Conshohocken just outside of Philadelphia. Within minutes, a nurse scheduled an appointment and placed long-stemmed items up both nostrils after confirming my identity with a glance at my drivers’ license and a cell-phone confirmation.
She called me moments later at home announcing the results of the test and I’ve been dealing with it since January 7th 2021.
I had felt sick a day or two earlier and knew it was serious. It got a lot worse and I went to bed with a severe cough and sore throat and tried to sleep.
I was unable to sleep for two or three days after the test. Yeah, two or three days. Breathing became difficult and I drove myself to the emergency room at Einstein Medical Center where I was issued a battery of tests over an eight-hour period.
I couldn’t take the rapid probing and constant surveillance at the hospital. My PTSD kicked in and after a Cat-scan test, I began to rip out all the medical hook-ups to my arm, my wrist and stickers on my chest.
I just wanted to go home . . .
Which I did only to learn two days later that I had nothing severe to worry about from any of the hospital investigations.
My breathing returned to normal. I stopped coughing and was able to sleep and have healthy bowel movements.
I never got a fever or lost my sense of smell or taste as some people with Covid-19 had experienced. I still tire easily and have to catch my breath after going from one room to another. But I feel I am finally getting better and hope to take my butt out of quarantine in the next week or so. I know the virus could stay with me for several months, but I look forward to getting a shot or two by late spring or early summer if the vaccine could help me later.
Until then, I’ll just take it easy and pray that anyone who gets this virus will survive and eventually recover!