Enduring Long COVID 

It has been a turbulent journey into the long-haul dimension. I was hit by the Delta strain in November, and by medical standards, I had a “mild” case (not hospitalized). Oh, it was a violent all-body invasion. But after 12 days, the war ceased, and I had one week of drastic improvement. 

Then, the planet tilted again. On a short walk in my neighborhood, my heart rate suddenly skyrocketed, and I thought I might pass out. Mere blocks from home, I had to be rescued by my husband. New symptoms swiftly emerged. Heart palpitations, tachycardia, winded doing very little, a druggy fatigue in my core pulling me down like a heavy anchor. Head perpetually swimming, and the return of an old nemesis: anxiety. Meanwhile, fever, nausea, sound sensitivity, and chills continued (still do) at lesser but persistent levels.

I felt eerily off in body and mind. Scary heart surges kept me up for hours in bed, and I was losing ground with sanity. I ended up at the ER twice. Heart and lung tests returned normal, which was partially a relief, yet accompanied disconcertingly by mystified shrugs from the doctors. “We’re learning about this through you.”