What a Mild COVID Case Feels Like When You Were Always Healthy Before

Let’s get some background out of the way first: I’m 27 year old and I don’t smoke. I’m not obese and exercise regularly. No chronic conditions to speak of, either; the main health issue I struggle with on a yearly basis is seasonal allergies. I haven’t been seriously ill since January 2016, and only then because I ate some bad tofu overseas. In other words, not a likely candidate to contracting symptomatic COVID, mild COVID, moderate COVID, or anything more serious.

I’ve also taken a helluva lot of precautions as it relates to COVID, complete with getting both vaccine shots, being anal about masks/social distancing, and even getting mad at people when the grocery stores had one way aisles (KINDERGARTNERS CAN FOLLOW DIRECTIONS BETTER THAN YOU CAN). Which definitely helped keep me healthy for almost 2 years now.

But then I did what many people have done and wasn’t as careful in recent weeks. I hung out in close quarters with others unmasked, because we were all fully vaccinated and I didn’t think much of it. It’s also very hard to get a vaccine booster if I didn’t want to drive far outside of my local area; I figured I could wait until the New Year to get a booster once demand lowered a bit. There’s a lot of kids that need the vaccine, after all.

And lowering my defenses just that much was enough for COVID to sneak in.

Getting the Positive Result

The whole day I had had a runny nose. It was just like my normal seasonal allergies, except this was early December. There’s no pollen in full-blown Christmas season. Just to reassure myself, I took a COVID test. It only took ten minutes until I was staring at this:

Shit.

Shit.

At first I laughed in disbelief. After all of the precautions I’d been taking the last two years, I finally catch it? After I’d been spooked to hell and back about all of the symptoms and potential lifetime effects? COVID is a strain of SARS, after all. That same disease that had everyone panicked when I was in elementary school.

It was after reminding myself of the potential health complications I could be facing that I started to cry. My brother and a couple of other friends have reassured me about it, since I’m a relatively healthy young’un. But knowing there were so many unknowns with this virus kept the tears flowing for a good while after that.

I only pulled myself together so I could contact everyone I’d seen in the last two weeks. This included a few friends, my Thanksgiving peeps, the library, and my coworkers (we’re required to go back into the office now, joy of joys). While I felt bad delivering the bad news, everyone I spoke with responded with kindness and concern for how I was doing. I really needed that assurance that Monday night so I’m grateful that’s what I was met with.

Calling the Doctor

The next morning, I contacted my doctor’s office to let them know I tested positive for COVID. My primary doctor was going to be out of the office for the next week, so I ended up mostly talking with the office nurse. She did her best to be helpful, despite being mixed up on what current procedures were. She brought up some new information I hadn’t known. Specifically, the state of Massachusetts had just opened up a new program for residents with COVID-19 to get an antibody infusion. “I’m not sure if you’d even qualify,” the nurse told me, “but we can try if you like?”

“Uhhh, sure?” I responded eloquently, still processing I was positive in the first place but figuring I’d trust my doctor’s office.

And the day after that (Wednesday) less than 48 hours after I got the initial positive result, I was in Everett getting an antibody infusion to help even my odds.

Massachusetts FTW

That itself was a funky setup, with a trailer parked by a hospital with GOTHAMS printed on the side. (No, I did not see Batman nearby.) After filling out paperwork (“Yes, I’m cool with getting this experimental treatment that makes it sound like I’m in a scifi film”) they hooked me up to get infused.

Here’s my arm getting the infusion:

The healthcare staff in that trailer were freaking awesome. Turns out they’ve been around the country administering these infusions and have seen them work wonders, especially for those unvaccinated. Their cheer made me feel really comfortable and relaxed, to the point where I was tapping along to the jazzy Christmas music they played in that medical mobile unit. “You can go ahead and nap,” one of the NPs assured us at one point. “We don’t charge for that service.”

(Which, now that I think about it, is a fun joke only the United States can laugh at, given the context. #PassMedicare4All)

There was only one part of the experience that outraged me, and that was overhearing they were overbooked and couldn’t take a lunch break. We don’t give healthcare workers enough damn credit.

I’m very glad I got that infusion because the rest of the week was terrible. When they tell you you’ve got a case of mild COVID symptoms, they don’t mind “mild in general,” like how a cold is mild. They actually mean “mild for COVID,” which translates to multiple days of fever, coughing, tasting nothing, smelling nothing, chills on top of the fever, and enough snot to fill a swimming pool. Trust me, you are going to rather wear a mask and get the booster shot than have even a “mild” COVID case.

UGH, or: You’re Fucked if You Have Symptoms

The next week had me in bed with a cough, a fever, and muscles that felt like I had tried climbing a mountain. Worst of all, I lost my sense of taste and smell that Wednesday night. Yes, after I got the infusion. I had heard horror stories about folks losing both senses for months, or having them come back just so everything tastes like it’s rotting. Besides the uncomfortable experience of not being able to smell things I knew had strong odors (like the garbage) I had no idea when – or if – I’d be able to get these senses back at all.

Turns out, on that front, I’d have one of the fastest improvements ever – both senses were back after a couple of days. I’m noticing some very slight differences in the limited experiments I’ve done, like buttered toast tasting like nothing and hard boiled eggs smelling… spicier? For some reason? But overall things are back to normal, much to my relief.

My fever was the one lingering symptom that wouldn’t go away, even after my cough and runny nose did. It only broke on Monday night, one week after I tested positive on the 6^th. Now, the lingering issue I’m concerned about is having a dry nose. It’s only noticeable when I go to lay down; the air does not feel good going through my nose. Beyond that, and some off-and-on muscle tiredness, I’m good as new. For now.

COVID Pro Tips

There were a couple of interesting tidbits I’d picked up while sick that I’ll share here:

Brushing my teeth helped me recapture a sense of taste and smell in a teeny tiny amount. I could only just barely get a whiff of the juice flavor or soup cooking, but a whiff was much better than nothing.

My face dried out along with my sinuses. Maybe it a combination of that and the colder weather, but I had to use a lot more moisturizer than usual.

Hot soup helped relieve the pressure in my ears from my sinuses. The hot temperature also helped me regain a smidgen of taste and smell, which I think is because I was burning away the virus cells in my mouth? Who knows.

My coughs were almost all dry coughs; it was only once or twice I encountered phlegm, and that phlegm was nasty. It was an icky color and a lot stickier than it should have been (yuck). I think that’s another way for the virus to stay in your system, if it’s that hard to get rid of the ick.

Most importantly, if you’re feeling at all not-your-best, take a test just to be safe. Remember when I was at the library that Monday? I made sure to sit in a corner that gets as little traffic as possible. Despite this being a city library I saw less than five people come close to me; there was only one person who lingered nearby to look at books, and after a few minutes I moved myself away out of serious caution. Don’t be the person who continues to be a plague-spreader. Take it from me: if I ever get divine knowledge on who, exactly, passed COVID onto me, they will definitely catch my fury.

Moving On

I’m basically recovered from COVID now. That doesn’t mean I’m back to normal. Now my muscles feel achy after I do the least strenuous activities; this includes yesterday, when I walked down one flight of stairs. Yes, walked down. Walking back up them again was much more tiring and required my lying in bed for 3 hours before I could get back up again.

The basic concern in recovery is whether I can continue working in the same capacity. So far I don’t see why not, which has 100% to do with accommodations in my role. As a marketing manager – or a white collar job – I can totally stay sitting down the whole day if I so wish. If I’m working from home, I don’t even have to leave my bed or couch if I don’t want to! If anyone is wondering why people recovered from COVID aren’t returning to, say, jobs in retail or at restaurants, there’s your answer right there: their bodies cannot accommodate standing for long hours at this time. I’m a pretty motivated person overall. If I can’t see myself doing it, not too many others could either.

And, keep this in mind: this was a mild case.

Additionally, a mild case while being fully vaxxed, AND after getting an antibody infusion. Getting a moderate case is even worse, with several days of high fever and not enough energy to pour yourself a glass of water.

Which is all to remind you to keep masking up. Keep social distancing. Get your booster shot, or at least the vaccine if you haven’t already. This isn’t something you want to get, and getting infected will not make you or your immune system stronger. There are nothing but downsides when it comes to your physical health. Do NOT make yourself vulnerable to COVID if you can help it.

In my previous post I outlined the financial aspects of catching COVID. In this one I’ll sign off by restating this has the capacity to wreck your finances, especially if you’re in a precarious situation. Stay guarded against the plague so you can keep eating (and tasting) the guac coming your way.

Cover image credit: Engin Akyurt via Unsplash