Purgatory
Love in the Time of Corona — Days 2 + 3: Showing symptoms.
I awoke at 4:30 a.m. yesterday, cold and shivering as if I’d been locked in a freezer. It was not normal. Reaching over to my nightstand for the thermometer I’d placed there the night before, I waited for the reading: 95.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Half a degree above the baseline for hypothermia.
Teeth chattering like a nutcracker on speed mode, I threw on a sweatshirt, sweatpants and socks and dove back under the covers. Then I called my father in Philadelphia, knowing he’d be up on East Coast time.
“Dad,” I said, “I think I have it.”
Before I went to bed Thursday night, around the time I started writing the first post of this series, I started feeling … well, funny. I took my temperature before bed but it was normal, 98.6 F. So, no, my thermometer isn’t broken — the 95.5 degree reading yesterday was likely accurate, or close to it.
Yesterday morning, I talked through an action plan with my dad. He’s a family physician and has been having these kinds of conversations with his patients for at least a week or two now. He told me to call my primary care physician in LA once his office opened, let him know my symptoms, and see if I needed to be tested for coronavirus. He also said to look out for a fever (because chills usually precede a fever), and told me the warning signs so I’d know if I was really in bad shape (this list included a severe, persistent cough and, above all, noticeable shortness of breath).
The chills lessened in the next couple hours, and my temperature inched up to the mid-96 range. I napped for a few, then woke up to call the doctor (they said they’d call back) and jumped on my first work call of the morning. Naturally, my team said I should prioritize my health and not stress over work stuff, but other than being cold and a bit weak I felt fully functional (or at least as non-dysfunctional as I am on any normal day).
When I heard back from my doctor’s office, his receptionist said that if I had a dry cough or a fever I should go to the ER, ostensibly to get tested. I checked on the LA County website and with my health insurance provider for more instructions, but they both directed me to contact my doctor. My health insurance provider also told me how many thousands of dollars it would cost should I need to be hospitalized at any point. So, that was fun.
(Note: Nobody told me whether I should notify the ER ahead of time if I were headed in, or what precautions I should take to avoid infecting others. Clearly, we’re really on top of this whole coronavirus testing and treatment thing.)
In the meantime, there wasn’t much to do but pound decaf tea by the thermos-ful and go about my job, treating this as I would a minor cold. For all I knew, it could have been a minor cold, a 24-hour bug or some type of flu-like thing. Without being tested for coronavirus, I wouldn’t know for sure exactly what was ailing me. One friend even went so far as to say, “I think it’s mental … you’re just trying to think of a reason why you could be sick.”
To which I replied, “That’s definitely possible.”
If people are capable of thinking themselves into phantom coronavirus symptoms, I could easily be one of those people.
That’s pretty much how yesterday went. I spent the day waiting for a fever that didn’t come, and still hasn’t. I was able to work a full day and didn’t have many symptoms other than those morning chills, some upper chest discomfort and general fatigue. Today has been pretty much the same, with even less of the chest discomfort. I still feel … well, funny, and not at 100%, but other than that I don’t have much to report.
So, who knows — I might be totally fine. Or, I might have the virus but only very mildly, and these could be the extent of the symptoms I’ll ever experience. Or, I could be in the early ramp-up stages of the virus, and a much harder road could lie ahead. At this moment, it’s impossible to know. Hence the title of today’s post: Purgatory.
I imagine that a great many of us will experience something like this during the weeks and months to come. Any sign of a cold, any tickle in a throat, any bout of sneezing can make us think, “Is this it?”
That’s one of the toughest things with this virus: Because of the potential two-week incubation period and lack of readily-available tests, the vast majority of us will be unsure of whether we’ve been infected (until we know for sure that we have). This puts us at greater risk of unwittingly transmitting the virus to others, and it certainly doesn’t do our mental health any favors.
Right now, I’m just approaching this as if I do have the virus. I’m supposed to be quarantining anyway, so there’s no harm in staying home, resting, drinking lots of fluids and keeping away from others. If two weeks go by and I never get a fever or any other symptoms, then the worst thing that will have happened is that I didn’t further expose myself or others.
As far as my day-to-day, though, I’ll operate under the premise of “quarantine business as usual” unless and until my body tells me otherwise. Hopefully, it doesn’t.
The weird thing about all this is that I am actually less worried and less scared now, when I might have the virus, than I was the other night when I thought I might get the virus. There’s something to be said for being in the middle of a battle, as opposed to waiting for it to begin.
Mentally, I’m now in the framework of: “Ok, for the next two or more weeks, I’m riding this out.”
I’ll take each day as it comes, take care of my body and my mental health as much as possible, and prepare myself for siege warfare. In the best-case scenario, this whole thing is a big fat nothing burger. But if I have the virus and my symptoms worsen, I’ll do my best to face it with as much resolve, patience and perspective as I can muster.
There’s a famous spiritual saying, “This too shall pass.”
I will do my best not to forget that.
Read other “Love in the Time of Corona” posts by Sam Rosenthal:
- Love in the Time of Corona—Day 1
- Day 4, Powerless
- Days 5 + 6, On the Necessity of Everyday Heroism
- Days 7 + 8, Rose-Colored Realism
- Days 9 + 10, Stir Crazy
- Days 11–13, Turning the Corner?
- Day 14, A Down-and-Up Kinda’ Day
- Days 15+16, Thanks, Health Heroes
- 15 Practical Ways You Can Help Fight COVID-19
- Day 30, Do The Things That Make You Happy
Read more of Sam Rosenthal’s work at samrose101.com, check out his #businesscardstories collection, follow him at @SamRoseWrites and stay tuned for his debut novel, Walking Backwards. Please RECOMMEND (clap) and SHARE this story, and always Keep It Movin.
