I honestly haven’t been sick — not even much of a cold — for more than seven years, maybe? I felt so shitty for so long after my two Moderna vaccines that I never got a booster, and this has always made me feel nervous even as I feel relieved not to put my body through the vaccine reaction again. While maintaining pretty strict safety protocols otherwise, I’ve also been exposed to The Virus numerous times, most recently by caring intimately for my daughter who spewed the stuff all over me for about seven straight days. Yet, I’ve never tested positive for it. Over the weekend, I started to feel super weird. I noticed a red blotch below my eye that felt sort of hot but didn’t hurt, and I remarked upon it, but no one really took note. Women are always commenting about one thing or another, aren’t we, as people generally don’t take note? Let me tell you about my knees and inflammation after those vaccines. Never mind. Anyway. I felt weird enough that I arranged to zoom my classes on Monday morning, but around lunchtime, I just couldn’t go on. That’s right. I could not go on and took to bed. I remained in bed for the next three days, tested negative for the Virus and was diagnosed with a flu by a virtual Physician’s Assistant who was very nice and as thorough as one could be in a video chat. I felt like shit for literally all of the hours of the days that I was awake, coughing, aching, head pounding and low-feverish, waking in the middle of the night covered in sweat. At no point did I feel short of breath, but it hurt to cough, and the nice video PA suggested Aleve. I tested negative for The Virus every single day. The PA still recommended a flu shot and a booster but suggested, too, that I might be one of those proverbial Super Dodgers. I feel like this post sounds casual, even glib. I don’t mean to sound cavalier — I don’t feel casual at all about Covid — contracting it or giving it to someone else. I took Aleve last night and woke up a new woman. Honestly, I've still got a bit of a cough, but it doesn’t hurt, my headache is gone and no more aches and pains. Whatever virus was inside of me, it’s left me feeling incredibly elated, almost goofily so. I know it’s not the virus itself that’s left me this way but rather the absence of the virus in my body. Such is the way of the illness wimp — not caring whether I’m alive or dead while sick and then just ridiculously happy to be feeling better. I’m not taking anything for granted.
My understanding of true chronic illness is only as spectator and, of course, caregiver, but I wonder how to better care for and empathize with those who do know illness more intimately? How much of my identity and sense of body and being embodied is based on the illusion of wellness, a wellness and strength that is just a luck of the draw? These are the things I’m thinking about even as the cough grows weaker, the head pounding subsides and the last sneeze buries itself in the crook of my elbow.
Those who took note, what the hell was that blotch under my eye?
Glad you're feeling better.
You might be one of those people who don’t keep score on suboptimal times because I definitely remember you writing about being sick on your blog during the past seven years. Yet for you it doesn’t stand out. Don’t add it all up, I tell my children about bad luck, illness, and even expenditures. Let each thing be it’s own experience, not an accumulation of difficult experiences. Only add up the good. I think you do that somehow. I am glad you are on the other side of this not-Covid illness that sounds exactly like my Covid round after Thanksgiving. Be well, dear friend. Continue to improve into giddy joy. And watch that spot under your eye. The body is mysterious and full of wonders and surprises. I try to keep score on the wonders even as I note the unwelcome. It gets harder not to add things up as there are more and more single occurrences to take note of. As always, I love visiting you here.