So without much fanfare or celebration, I woke to see the sun peeping through a gap in my thick green check curtains, .I lay there eyes blinking, deciding on my next fabulous course of action, do I get up and visit the bathroom or lay there another hour or three hoping to drift back off to sleep, the bathroom won of course, it invariably does.
After that excitement, I plodded out to my kitchen, the bright red kettle sat just waiting for me ….Coffee my brain screams !!!!!!!, You need coffee, !!!! We need coffee now or I refuse to work, I laugh and say what’s new ….But i humour my sleep addled brain as one does when you just wake up….I love that click and then the sound, as it slowly works it’s way up to boil . I look about me as I wait, my kitchen,s clean , it always is, I bearly have the energy to mess it up let alone cook.
I make my first coffee of the day and crawl back to bed with it, I can no longer smell that delicious nutty aroma, since Covid I can’t smell much really , but least now I can taste it, savour it , …it’s one of the few good things Covid left behind, after I lost my sense of taste for a week , I never took it for granted again, You ever drank hot water , because that’s how coffee tasted back then , of hot nothingness.I lay watching something on Britbox, sipping my hot mug of caffeine goodness hoping uselessly that it will travel around my sleep fuddled lobes of brain and shake them awake, I do this every day, but every day it fails, I need something stronger I think to myself , curling under my thick soft fleece blanket( like a bomb or Dyno Rod)
My stomach flirts tentatively with hunger, and as quickly as it arrives, it goe,s , leaving in its wake nausea, ( I hate that) yeah I know no one likes feeling sick, but I really can’t abide it, ….I breath heavily trying to watch my tablet for distraction, but even Helen Mirren puffing and panting over some beautiful young man isn’t doing that , just makes me miss Jesse, Normally passes with an hour or so, I lay just breathing and waiting for it to disappear or for me to drift back off to sleep, either is preferable to that feeling high up in my chest already threatening to choke me and the sweat dripping down my back, that in its turn irritate,s the prickly rash covering my back and arms.
My heads thumping, and I turn this way and that trying to get comfortable, as I do I long for the days , I would wake, dive in the Shower , grab a bottle of water and walk for miles, now I just lay here exhausted without even doing anything. My chest is tight, wheezy and it burns as I take uneven breaths, it’s been a year on the 12th of March and there will be no celebrations, no large cake and candles, Just another day surviving the best I can. I used to wonder dreamily when I was cleaning house for the sixth time that day or at work what it would be like to be able to just lay in bed, you know not doing anything, maybe watch tv or read, but just resting, …..well now I know and it’s not the life for me or the fun filled lazy days I imagined at all….
Despite feeling ill , I’m perpetually bored , if brain fog had,nt done so already I swear boredom would have rotted my brain, …nothing I can do about it, just walking the few paces from the toilet to the kitchen had me sit on my sofa till I had recovered , each day, hour , minute upon minute brings a new wave of symptoms, each day I fight, what I’m fighting goodness only knows , but involuntarily my body takes up the battle , aided by a whole dispensary of vitamins, pain meds , things to speed my metabolism up , things to slow my racing heart down, a veritable rainbow of medication , this is just another day in my battle , when it ends who knows , because that little gem is yet to be determined.
My American Man In Purple Lace Corsets 