And the crazy thing is, I’m finally at peace with it.
I know, strange to use the word peace in reference to anything Covid related. Especially considering how all consuming it felt the moment I tested positive. The level of rage was indescribable. Peace was the absolute last thing on my mind. Because right then, all I could think about was how I made it almost 2 years through this pandemic without being sick. Taking the extra steps to be careful while watching everyone else enjoying all the things I’d missed. How reckless people continued to be, while I had been so mindful. And to be hit with it 6 days before my birthday on the first year (mind you since moving to Cali) that I was actually excited about my celebratory plans. But there I was.
Still positive.
I sat in my car, ugly crying in the testing parking lot for 30 minutes while all of these thoughts swirled in my head. The anxiety literally formed like a living, breathing beast in my chest. And this was just the beginning. The first day of being positive. Right before the absolute torture that was to come. Laying in what felt like a sauna almost 24 hours a day in complete isolation was awful. And combating crippling waves of fatigue, body pain, excruciating headaches and nausea that made food poisoning feel like a vacation was complete hell. Oh, and lost of taste and smell for a little razzle dazzle. There’s nothing I could write that could accurately describe being left alone with a multitude of unpleasant thoughts, while also feeling like at any moment your body might cease to function. Yeah. Not really how you’d want to bring in any day, let alone your birthday.
It all felt totally unfair. And while I knew there were no promises of a life without suffering and unfairness, it was still a lot to process mentally. Especially for a person who struggles with anxiety daily under even the most normal circumstances. On any given Tuesday, my mind is a sea of over analyzed thoughts and chaos. So you can only imagine how my brain went into overdrive with thoughts of impending doom every time I was awake. It’s almost criminal how many times I woke up in the middle of the night and checked my pulse oximeter.
With all the added worry, my brain only communicated to my body to feel even worse. Every thought was like a new symptom. You truly never know what you’re going to think about when your body is in a compromising position. I won’t lie, my first thought was a bit morbid. I thought about how long it would take for someone to notice I was actually dead in my room. Locked away all by my lonesome. Would it be a few hours before someone alerted the authorities? A few days? I mean, I have a roommate. And people checked on me daily. But truly, I only considered the worst. The waves of depression while in isolation will do that to you. Loneliness hits different with this. To be honest, it felt like one of the worst parts. And this is coming from a person who enjoys being by herself. A lot.
It’s crazy now looking back and rehashing some of those thoughts as I laid close to passing out in my bathtub. Yes, my bathtub. Because after crawling to the bathroom, I had depleted any energy left for anything else. All I could do was roll into my tub and pray that I made it out. All while losing fluid out of every available orifice. And yes, if you’re thinking it… even there. Too graphic for you? Well, too bad. Wear a mask. Socially distance. And stop being an idiot who thinks it can’t be you. Because Covid is not a joke. And while I never thought it couldn’t be me, I certainly thought I was going to be lucky enough to make it out on the other end. Unscathed. But here we are, still in this pandemic, with no end in sight. And no shortage of folks who care nothing for their neighbor. And a governing system that fancies dollars over human beings. To be this incredibly selfish is a whole different issue that I can rant about for days. But I’m not here to go over all the reasons why pretending we aren’t still in a global pandemic is stupid. I’m here to share something I learned about myself.
So, back to that.
Now that recovery seems to have fully settled in, I can focus on the lessons from the experience instead of the complete heartbreak of it. I gained a whole new appreciation for God, this vessel he’s blessed me with and it’s capabilities. I also became hyper aware of things we usually don’t value day to day. Something as simple as a deep inhale, walking a few feet, the taste of an amazing dish or our favorite scent. I discovered a very different view of the life I was given, even in sickness. It was a surprise lesson in humility. One that I didn’t even know I needed.
There were people on ventilators, while I was able to still use my lungs. I was able to speak with my family every single day, while others suffered alone. This body, one that I spent so much time insulting, fought hard on my behalf without a moment’s delay. To think, I had the nerve to complain about cancelled bday plans and quarantine when I was already so blessed. And even though recovery brought a struggle with significant hair shedding and loss, which for someone like myself toke it’s toll. Vanity aside, I’m fairly back to normal. While others are dealing with long Covid symptoms that have shifted their entire world. Not to mention those who never got to see recovery or even another breath, while I sit here able to write this today. I’m blessed beyond measure and I had to reevaluate some parts of me. Those selfish parts that only a traumatic experience can reveal. Considering all I had was time in quarantine, and not an ounce of energy for normal activities, self reflection became inevitable. For that, I am thankful.
If you made it this far in my ramblings, the most important part of this that I want to shout from the rooftops is that I finally had my God moment. And for anyone who may not be aware of what I mean, it’s simply a moment where I wholeheartedly felt His presence. Not to say I’d never felt it before, but this felt different. More tangible. In that moment, in a cold tub that I barely made it to, I felt God with me. And though my body was at it’s most weakened and broken state, spiritually I was somewhere completely new. And that’s the feeling I hold on to. Even when the frustrations of still being in this pandemic try to overwhelm me. I think back to how God introduced my Jesus year with a reminder that this life is a gift, not to be survived but lived. And come hell or high water, that’s what I plan to do.