Courtesy of Ann E. Wallace
The author during her fifth trip to the emergency room due to COVID-19 in July 2020.
As I went to bed on New Year’s Day, I sighed to myself, “I just don’t know .” My fiancé Konstantin, who I thought was fast asleep, lifted his head and asked what I meant. Embarrassed to have been caught in a solipsistic moment, I quietly finished the thought, “. if I will ever get better.”
COVID-19 entered my home a year ago today when my 16-year-old daughter Molly first developed the tell-tale cough. By March 17, 2020, my symptoms had begun. Molly recovered almost entirely after three weeks, but I’m still sick, and that makes me a COVID long hauler. Jan. 1, 2021, was a particularly difficult day for me: My joint and muscle pain, which had been escalating since summer, reached a level of agony and was coupled with intermittent tachycardia and shortness of breath, digestive problems, migraine, and overwhelming fatigue.
Mara Gay, The New York Times Published: 02 Jan 2021 04:50 PM BdST Updated: 02 Jan 2021 04:50 PM BdST The coronavirus disease (COVID-19) survivor Santiaga Cerrato, 85, who suffers from Alzheimer s disease, bids farewell to fellow resident Antonia Sanchez at the nursing home Centro Casaverde in Navalcarnero, outside Madrid, Spain, Dec 23, 2020. REUTERS
I am one of millions of people still fighting to regain their full health months after surviving COVID-19. But this is not a story about sickness. This is a story about the small army of people who are helping me heal. ); }
There are the pulmonologists, a team of two brilliant, brave women who have treated COVID-19 patients in the ICU throughout the pandemic. One of them is around my age early 30s. “You will get there,” she assured me recently as if she had read my worried mind. Our faces were masked, but I could see the confident smil
Dec. 31, 2020
Credit.Simone Noronha
I am one of millions of people still fighting to regain their full health months after surviving Covid-19. But this is not a story about sickness. This is a story about the small army of people who are helping me heal.
There are the pulmonologists, a team of two brilliant, brave women who have treated Covid-19 patients in the I.C.U. throughout the pandemic. One of them is around my age early 30s. “You will get there,” she assured me recently, as though she had read my worried mind. Our faces were masked, but I could see the confident smile in her eyes. “It’s just slow,” she said, using profanity that I can’t repeat here but that made me laugh.