My Covid Experience

Before I was infected with Covid-19 last year, I was so sure I was not going to get this strain of Sars. I was incredibly careful and conscientious, but that changed in late December 2020, when flying back to DC from Zimbabwe from visiting my parents. On my return, to be safe I got tested and received a negative test. However, a few days later I started to feel stomach pains that increased exponentially throughout the day. With my boyfriend’s Grey’s Anatomy medical knowledge, he predicted that I could have appendicitis.

We decided to go to the ER where it was determined that I did indeed have appendicitis. I needed surgery but had to take a Covid test first. Having received a negative result the previous day I was not worried. But to my dismay the nurse came back into the room with a face shield and regretfully informed that I had tested positive. I started crying. I was not scared of having the virus, but I was frightened of everything that came with it. My boyfriend had to leave the hospital immediately, and I was left alone. The surgeon told me it would be a higher risk to have the surgery now and that I should stay overnight on antibiotics. I hated it. I was transferred to a Covid room and was put on antibiotics through an IV. My phone died and I could not communicate with anyone.

The night in the hospital was not pleasant. I developed a high fever and sore throat, and it was difficult to sleep or move with an IV in my arm. I was starving by the end of my one day stay but could only consume liquids. Despite the whirlwind of a day, I was lucky to be helped by lifesaving nurses and doctors who lifted my spirits.

The next day on the December 30th I was released from the hospital and went home to quarantine in one room. I was miserable, extremely bored and felt claustrophobic. Fortunately, my Covid symptoms were mild, but instead of spending New Years with loved ones on a ski resort as planned, I fell asleep alone and depressed at 9pm on New Year’s Eve. Nevertheless, I was blessed that my boyfriend cooked for me, and made sure I was getting better from a distance. I told him I felt like a prisoner, and as a joke he stuck an inmate sign on my door to lighten the gloomy mood.

Unfortunately, four days later, my boyfriend started to get chills, he tested positive as well. Whilst I was happy that I could finally leave the room and be with him, I was racked with guilt for giving him the virus. The next week the tables turned, and I started to take care of him and made sure that he was recovering slowly each day. It was difficult, he was difficult, simply getting out of bed was a feat. He slept during the day, but the chills kept him up at night and the apartment became a furnace. I kept pushing him to take beneficial home remedies, but I was always met with a complaint. Fortunately, with the help of a lot of mental might, home remedies and medicine we managed to get through the two disastrous weeks and come out the other side fully recovered.

I understand this past year has been challenging and strenuous on so many people around the world and I am eternally grateful to have survived the storm. This experience has taught me how precious life is and to not take my health for granted, but to appreciate it and work on it daily.