Heyyyyyy Corona

Sorry but every single time I hear the words Corona Virus, for some unexplained reason only known to my unique brain, the Macarena song goes off in my head. Now this isn’t good because Facebook, the news, everything, is full of the Macarena (I mean the virus). shakes head I’m so sick of that blooming song. But not only the song, I, too, as it turns out am sick.

Way back in March, I went out on one of my rare occasional small jaunts to a cafe where I was to meet up with my friend for coffee. Nothing too remarkable. But while I was there I got more than just coffee… my friend had, in fairness, pre-warned me she had a slight head cold. I thought nothing of it. (But yeah, now in hind sight, I really should have. I admit I was taking risks.) As you know, I have HMS (nooooo… no not a ship, but Hyper Mobility Syndrome.) It effects the whole body and weakens my immune system. It’s been said in the past I don’t always stop to think and here’s the evidence. sighs…

But, in my defense, back in March, Coronavirus aka Corvid 19 (here goes that song again🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶) was in its infancy and wasn’t supposed to have hit my little corner of England. Now that said, my son, who’s a strapping, healthy man, was indeed knocked on his back over Christmas with something akin to flu. Nothing, but nothing keeps him down. He’s rarely, if ever, sick. But I digress. Within 24 hours my nose became stuffed, my throat hot and this room (which is normally icy cold and damp 24/7 even in mid summer months) suddenly felt not only warm but hot hot hot🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶! (another song dammit!) I’m sat in vests and shorts window open.

Still, just thinking it was a nothing, I carried on regardless. A trifle head cold was my thinking. I drank plenty of fluids though and took painkillers, all these things we are advised through media to do. I can’t say I felt really sick, just kind of off… do you know what I mean? I didn’t want to eat much, also kind of swung from sleeping for absolutely hours, only waking to take more meds and swigs of icy water, to nothing… just laying awake staring at my phone. There my love lay sleeping or if not I was just looking up at the ceiling. (must get to those cobwebs) As it and I progressed, I developed a slight dry cough, head-achy, all the usual suspects of a head-cold, but still I felt kind of okay. Within myself though I can’t make my mind up if the raging stomach issues were my IBS flaring or symptoms. Either way every two to three days I spent a wonderful day running up and down the stairs to the bathroom, not easy when you’re burning up.

After two weeks I started to improve and thought once again (in total denial) yeah, it was only a head cold. (I will say I have put myself in isolation since the beginning of March, and I’m so glad I did.) I began to feel better as the days went on. I had a little more energy and actually began to feel hungry. Then came the announcement that all of us would be on a lock-down. I was already there so no worries but for the fact that getting food was horrendous. More than once Jesse had to step in to make sure I ate. I wasn’t really bothered myself… my mood sinking fast. About the beginning of April I had to go out to pick up my medication from our local chemists. The new dawn saw new rules… 6 ft apart and stand in line outside the shops, chemists, etc. Now it’s the beginning of April remember, and a cold chilled morn to boot. As I walked down to the chemists, it began to rain.

I’m looking about me. Everyone’s got coats, scarves, hats on… I’m standing outside as if it’s summer, getting some rather peculiar stares from my fellow queue-ees, wearing a short sleeve t-shirt, thin trousers and the sweat is still making its way in big droplets down my back. I stood that day in the rain 3-quarters of an hour. I felt sick, couldn’t breath and my head swam. By the time I got in there and was seen, I was ready to fall on the floor. I ached, hurt and felt worse than I had in the weeks before. I grabbed my meds from a perplexed chemist and ran almost out of the door, struggling to get the blooming doors open, I was that distressed. By the time I did reach home I was struggling to breath at all, soaked through to my skin and feeling so faint.

Each time I went out, even just those few steps from home, it was repeated. Not only when I go out, it seems, but weekly the symptoms return with a vengence. Not only do they return (like that one annoying visitor you can’t hide behind the sofa from) but they are far worse than the actual virus itself. I still had the soaring temps, stuffy nose, cough, the most horrendous headaches… and let’s not forget the breathlessness. I’m not going with what my stomach does! (it ain’t pretty) This week in question was one of the worst times I’ve had… three days of not keeping anything other than water in my stomach, cramps, headaches, and a malaise like I can’t begin to describe. I lay on Tuesday night praying the pain meds would kick in so I could sleep. I just wanted to get out of my betraying body to rest.

I wanted to sleep for hours, days, to get out of my pain, tiredness, but then tiredness doesn’t cover it. Exhaustion neither. Nothing does or ever can, even reaching to get my tablet, phone or anything was too much effort, so I lay there just feeling drained and emotional… I wanted to curl into my pillow and sob but couldn’t. Strength failed me. When I washed it felt like I had run a marathon. I leaned against the sink for support, splashing cool water over my hot face. Showering is a route march and I hate it, can’t stand the having to lay about for over an hour after. And I can only thank the Lord for microwave dinners. (for in truth I wouldn’t eat at all without them) My body’s tired of fighting now and shows it by breaking out in rashes, welts… my HMS is worse than ever and on Tuesday night, as I lay in my bed, my world falling apart, I looked across at Jesse sleeping soundly and I was scared. For the first time really scared because I longed to be curled up in his arms and him to make things alright as only he can. Lying here praying I would just sleep and get away from all this pain, what scared me most, folks, was I wouldn’t wake! I’ve fought so much now, so hard, so long.

I’m too tired to fight this. It wrecks my body over and over weekly and the fight’s gone. But if one good thing can come of all this it’s to be careful. Don’t think like I did in the very beginning. ‘Oh it’s only flu, it’s just a cold, I’ve had many and will be fine‘ Well I’m not fine… far from fine. And when I’m going to be is anyone’s guess now. This from one who’s battled cancer, heart disease, HMS, and many other illnesses. This is my hardest battle yet, simply because it’s never ever over. So look after yourselves, your loved ones, each other, because you’re precious, you’re wonderful and there’s always only ever going to be one of you. Do whatever it takes to avoid getting this. Do what it takes to stay safe. Remember, you are loved by someone and they want you with them. Stay well, my friends xx