The one thing I noticed during this experience was that the only Corona messages whirling around the media were either death rates and horror stories or stories about how people like Prince Charles self-isolating at home with ‘mild’ symptoms, as though all they needed to do is wait at home wearing slippers and drinking tea until the whole mess passes over. So when I developed symptoms, I had no idea what to expect.
What does mild actually mean? Does it mean you are lucky enough not to be on a respirator? How long will it last? What helps? There was nothing out there, no one had any answers. Nine days in, I wanted to share my story to shed some light on what this is like if you are ‘coping’ at home as I had no point of reference. There was nothing mild about my symptoms, and luckily, neither was I gasping for my final breath, so here are some useful tips to help you manage your own expectations and health during these unprecedented times.
Day 1: Denial
The cough has started! Self-isolate! I can’t help feeling like if I coughed in public, even if walking the dog miles away from anyone, it would be like a scene from the Body Snatchers where the lady across the street would scream and point. I quietly cough into my scarf and tell myself that people are still catching other coughs and colds; corona virus isn’t the only bully in the playground or is it? On a plus note, red wine seems to be helping my cough, bonus! I have the cough for about 3 days and feel about 80% of my usual self.
Day 4: Stop the clocks, cut off the telephone, recork the wine
It’s Saturday night and in an attempt to bring some variety into our locked down life, we have ordered a curry. We are supposed to be having a family games night but all I can think about is going to bed. I can’t taste the curry at all but put it down to a bad take away. The family stare in shock as they witness me search through the drawer for the wine stopper we kept from a Christmas cracker. I must be ill. I go to bed.
Day 5: The Sweats
Wow, my temperature is off the scale. I stay in bed and lie flat. My eyeballs feel like they are going to burst. I don’t think, I just lie there. I try some vapour rub thinking that will help and realise I can’t smell anything. Day turns to night and I feel like I have lost a pint of fluid through my pores.
Day 6: The onion meltdown
I decide to get out of bed no matter what and find a comfy place on the sofa, I am sweating, shivering, sleepy and exhausted, my eyes won’t stay open. All I want is leek and celery soup, but I have no onions. It’s all I can think about and I start crying. My friend texts me during my meltdown and offers to drop an onion off but I feel bad, so I give it a miss. I continue to cry throughout the day because I feel so rubbish. Hubby makes me two boiled eggs, sliced with sea salt. I can’t taste them, but they feel like they are doing me some good. Paracetamol doesn’t really touch anything, I continue to sweat and shiver but, on the sofa, rather in a bed, so it feels like progress. Hot drinks like tea, flat coke for energy and the holy grail, Lemsip, all really help. My chest feels like I have 3 bricks resting on it and the cough sounds like when that dog swallows the dog toy in the film Snatch by Guy Ritchie, completely fruitless and pointless, just draining me of any energy I have left.
I test my nose every night with Vicks vapour rub. Still nothing.
Day 7: I don’t want to die in an aircraft hangar
As an eternal optimist, I wake up expecting change, instead my pyjamas are wringing wet. After an initial panic, I realise it’s from sweat, phew. How can I not feel better yet? I am strong, fit and healthy. I am a bit disappointed in myself. I realise I have to change my expectations so reset my goals. Today’s goals are to have a shower and wash my hair then retreat to the sofa. Simple. The shower completely wipes me out and once on the sofa, I can’t keep my eyes open. Just before I conk out, I see Ken Dog (my miniature schnauzer) eating all the soil from the house plants. At least he is getting fed, I think.
Later, my lovely friend drops off milk and bread and I am overwhelmed by her kindness. I am not very good at asking for help and it makes me cry to see her face. I miss people. I miss my wider family. I wonder how people are coping without family and friends, it must be awful.
I have done my best to avoid overloading myself with news updates, but something pops up on my phone just before bed and it sends me into a spin. I imagine saying goodbye to my family and having to die alone in an aircraft hangar. The anxiety alone adds another brick to my chest.
Day 9: 111 John
I feel dreadful. I can’t move or stay awake, and the bricks on my chest have increased. I haven’t got the energy to get through another day like this. I am so upset I finally phone 111 for reassurance. A lovely guy, John, picks up and even though he has probably been inundated with queries, he talks to me like I am the only person that has called him today. I try not to cry but I just wanted someone to tell me this is normal, but no one has any answers, not really. He tells me that if I am too ill to watch TV or read, and I start panting for breath, I need to call 999. I am not sure if I am reassured or not but at least it’s a marker in the sand. If I start to die, call 999.
The highlight of my week was receiving the most beautiful flowers from my wonderful friend and business partner who has kept everything going, read my desperate and anxious texts and kept a smile on my face.
Day 10: It’s a marathon, not a sprint
So, I feel 10% better today and feel confident I am moving in the right direction. Hubby has started my day with a homemade smoothie full of vitamins. I have my smell back and a whiff of an appetite. I am still sweating, clammy and weak but don’t feel as sleepy. The cough only really returns when I talk (I struggle to finish a sentence) or move, so I am really just trying to rest, rest and rest. I have had to accept this is going to be a couple of weeks at least.
Top Survival Tips for coping with the virus at home
It’s a long drawn out process and you need to take care of your mental health as well as your physical health.
–Switch off the news: anxiety equals more chest bricks.
–Don’t sweat the small stuff, forget about educating your children to the same standard as school, forget about what the dog is doing. It really doesn’t matter, YOU matter!
–Watch lots of comedy with loved ones.
–Create a ‘faves’ list on Netflix or on your Kindle and do not feel guilty if all you have done is work through that list.
–Stay Hydrated. Buy Lemsips – they are the holy grail! Drink lots of tea, it’s surprisingly comforting even when you can’t taste anything. Don’t underestimate how much water you will lose when you sweat for nearly 2 weeks.
–Even though you will lose your appetite, eat. There is no way you can complete the marathon without fuel.
–Remember you have people that love you, even if they cannot be there in person, they are still there, so reach out if you need to and ask for help. You are precious to so many people so take care of yourself.