Life isn’t fair

A year ago July I contracted Covid. I was two weeks away from having benefits, so my medical care was substandard. Like many others, I was in good health before I became sick. On Thursday I walked the dogs three miles and rode my bike an additional five. I cleaned the house in anticipation of working additional shifts over the weekend to cover for another nurse who had tested positive. On Friday I couldn’t walk to the bathroom without hanging onto the wall. I couldn’t speak a full sentence without prolonged coughing. Not a normal cough, this was the distinctive Covid cough. My oxygen levels dropped. My heart rate went up, The pain in my head and throat was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. This was a mild case.

The first week my poor husband set his alarm at night to check I hadn’t stopped breathing. Two weeks later I could, if I took it very slowly, walk across my house. After three weeks later I could walk to the end of my driveway. At seven weeks I felt safe enough to drive. It was eight weeks before I was back to work. From that day to today I have been able to do my job. But that is all I can manage.

This week I had my first appointment at the Post Covid clinic. It was a relief to have one central place to coordinate referrals to address the myriads of issues that have never gone away. However, I was devastated to find out I do in fact have cognitive changes. My PCP blew off my concerns I could no longer do mental math. I couldn’t do cube roots or even square roots with the grandkids. I couldn’t help my grandson figure out functions in Algebra. Her response was most people can’t do cube roots in their heads. In our family, it’s a dinner table game with the children.

I do have an immediate recall, but I no longer have short-term recall- even with prompts. I can no longer reproduce patterns. In other words, I failed a portion of the dementia screen. It is scary to have my heart rate go up to 130 after seeing a patient or vacuuming. Continuous chest pain is annoying. The leg pain I can deal with. The fatigue is difficult, but I’ve learned to pace myself better. But my mind? This is me. This is who I am. Who am I if my brain has altered? How can I ethically do patient care if I cannot trust my recall? Will this progress into full-blown dementia? I am terrified

Long term cognitive issues are a common post covid phenomenon.

You don’t need to spend time in ICU to win this particular covid prize. You don’t even to have been as sick as I was. All you need is to have had the damned virus.

The PA conducting the exam told me of a patient who writes code for a living. He is a couple of decades younger than me. He can still code, but cannot remember what he just wrote.

This is devastating on a personal level.

This is also devastating on a societal level. Especially in our society where a safety net is virtually non-existent and victims of any calamity are always at fault.

I contracted covid working as a Hospice nurse with inadequate PPE. (hint: If you can smell anything, your N95 is not actually an N95) I masked. I double-masked with masks that told me they were not for medical uses. I stayed home. I sanitized. I vaccinated. I’ve received my booster.

And yet, here I am.

I’ve lost my hip to steroid-induced necrosis. I’ve lost lots of money to medical fees. I am constantly fatigued and in pain. Now I find out that I have lost cognition.

If for some reason you are one of those who still think it is a badge of honor to ignore reality and deny covid’s very existence, I have one thing to say to you:

Quit being a selfish bastard and get the damned shot. I don’t wish this even on you.