Some of you know I am a COVID longhauler. I've had this for 403 days.
My symptoms vary, depending on the day. But I'm lucky, my teeth aren't crumbling, my hair isn't falling out, I haven't developed cataracts or had any limbs amputated.
But, I can't remember whether or not I said good morning to my husband, or the fact that I was CONVINCED my son was turning 5, I even had the number on the cake I ordered. He turned 4 in August. I've had fevers for months, body pain, migraines, I can't smell anything, have spiraled into major depression, feel like I have pins and needles all over, anxiety, insomnia, sensory issues (I spend a lot of time with my noise canceling headphones on) and sometimes I need help with things as easy as filling out paperwork, because my hands shake so badly. And those are my normal symptoms, some go, and new ones continue to appear. I can't get through the week without the help of my sister, mom and mother-in-law (God bless you women!) and my most amazing husband, who takes care of everything and always holds me while I cry.
My daughter drew a picture of our family, where everyone else was standing, and I was laying in bed. She draws the world that she sees. I spend most of my time in bed, I had to quit my job, that I loved, and I want to give you a snapshot of what this life looks like. I feel like a wounded animal, just wanting to retreat into a dark cave. I have to miss every birthday, and don't get to do the normal things I used to be lucky enough to enjoy. My risk of dying at an earlier age has increased dramatically. It's hard to even look at the pictures, it makes me cry.
My psychotherapist told me that 1 in 3 people that contract COVID have long lasting symptoms. Think about that, 1 out of 3. I don't like those odds, and I love all of you.
I pray that we all put each other first. I am.