Eight Months of Long COVID

Last week was amazing. On Sunday, I did my laundry as usual all the way through folding and putting it away.

Then, I baked.

Then, I cooked.

And then, I talked to Dad on the phone for over an hour.

Even after all that, I still had enough energy to go to the pool.

And then, I swam a few laps the short length of the pool.

Shock, awe, wonder, and relief filled every pore of my body. Instead of feeling like all this activity had triggered another relapse, I felt energized and alive like I used to after a good exercise activity. Passing a friend on my way back to my apartment, I said that it was a good day and mused that if I could have a few more of those, my life would be greatly improved.

I never imagined that the next day would be another one of them.

And then the day after that, and the day after that.

By the end of the week, I swam laps 5 out of the 7 days, each time going a few more laps before switching to laps the long way.

When the pool opened Memorial Day weekend, I became physically and mentally exhausted after moving gently around the pool for 5 or 10 minutes. I could not imagine doing laps before summer’s end.

Relief. Immense relief. These words are insufficient to capture my emotions when my body responded “normally” to exercise. Hope bloomed quickly in its wake. The local urban traipsing hike I planned last February/March might now be within the realm of possibility in the near future. And, maybe…just maybe, I could handle a trip before the summer was over.

A week of good days was far more than I imagined on that Sunday, the 7th. By Saturday, I couldn’t let go of the idea that I was having good days, even though there were now signs I was relapsing. By the end of the day Sunday, the 14th, sitting up, moving around my apartment, or even thinking took enormous effort.

On Monday, disappointment overwhelmed. I was clearly no longer having good days. Would it be just a few days? Or would it be like April when I relapsed for over 6 weeks? Was there something I did that triggered this relapse? Or was whatever causes Long COVID flaring up just for the heck of it?

I don’t know.

Today, perhaps because I am leaning into writing instead of brooding, I feel better than yesterday. It is not a categorically good day. And tomorrow could continue the feeling of relapse or could see the return of manageable days. Thanks to last week, my marker for good days has moved substantially. One day, I will have another good day.

Feature image courtesy: covid protection by Brickclay from Noun Project (CC BY 3.0)