Covid Cramps My Style

The last time I posted on Instagram about what I had been up to creatively was on March 27th. I typically reserve those posts for musings about art or creativity but this time I shared that I had "fully recovered" from Covid, then included pics of the things I'd painted in the weeks preceding the infection.

The thing is, I didn't fully recover. I continued and continue to have profound fatigue, exhaustion, lung irritation, headaches, and full body aches on a somewhat regular basis. It's almost cyclical and seems to show up the day after exertion like working out several days in a row or working a 10-hour shift.

The abbreviated version. After returning to work and noticing these ongoing symptoms, I went to the doctor. I was re-tested for Covid and was found to be positive a full 6 weeks after my initial positive result. No one was quite sure if it was picking up viral particles or if I was actually still infected since I was still having symptoms. I was out of work for another 2 weeks. I finally tested negative twice and returned to work.

During the weeks off I would go through waves of "what if this never goes away", "what if I never feel good again", "what if…", "what if…", "what if…". "What if" is so dangerous because it lures you into thinking that life right now will never change. But, life? It will change.

I sat in the sun, played with my dogs, ate really good food with the hubs, laid awake at night wondering if I'd see my parents again, watched a lot of tv, missed work and my patients, enjoyed the sound of the birds, researched the shit out of everything, sat in horror as the virus spread to every nook of our little blue ball, painted when it felt right, and loved the little mundane moments. I was anxious, grateful, happy, upset, sad, unsure…the full beautiful range of emotions.

Here's what I know now. I feel all of these things. All at once, multiple times a day, all day long. Up and down. Up and down. The good is so intertwined with the uncomfortable and messy. There is no beginning or end. That's it. The human experience.

It's the unexpected gift of being jolted out of routine and security. Even in those uncomfortable times, it's still okay.

Onward and upward,

Heather