Signs and symptoms of long-haul Covid (Week one)

I don't think I would usually fancy reeling off my medical history in a public space, nor would anyone be interested in reading it, but this feels different. Long-Haul Covid, as I think it's being called, is new to the world. I hope sharing my experience might be helpful for others going through it, even simply if it's to know that you're not alone. That became my mantra as I lay in bed ill. Isolated. But not alone. The sheer scale of this illness must mean that there will be scientific research. The medics will begin to understand how to treat it. We will get better. I can recommend joining one of the online support groups – on Facebook or Slack – too. I certainly felt relief after doing so.

Week One (Days 1-7)

Coronavirus was everywhere in the news. Wash your hands, then wash your hands some more. There were two official symptoms, high temperature and a new dry, continuous cough. So when I had uncontrollable shaking one Sunday afternoon, a cold sore, a small nose bleed, and mouth ulcers, it didn't really cross my mind that it was Covid-19. Even when I had diarrhoea the next day, I thought, well, that's horrible and odd, and carried on with life. It was the following evening, Tuesday 17 March, that the high temperature and fever hit. Oh. I woke early the next morning, breath rasping and short, with a dry cough. Heart racing. A bat fluttering in my chest. 

The symptoms came in waves. It was disconcerting. How ill am I? Am I imagining this? I felt better, sat up  at a desk for an hour, and was then totally exhausted. As if my muscles couldn't hold me up. Was that possible? 

That evening I sat on the sofa to eat soup and bread, and realised I couldn't taste it. Wholemeal crumbs in my mouth, like eating sawdust and cardboard. More energy the next day, but also a cough that felt as if would rip open the tissues in your chest because they were so dry. Heart racing when I walked up the stairs. I spent Friday lying in bed. At some points awake but so tired that I could barely reply to an email. At others, feeling well enough to talk on the phone. At yet others, asleep. 

Covid-19 messes with your mind.

On the Saturday, my birthday, I woke up determined to enjoy the day despite being ill and in isolation alone. I got in the shower, and felt as if I couldn't stand. Chest pain. Turns out I had low blood pressure on standing. Anxiety. I actually hadn't been feeling anxious before then. I knew I wasn't in a high-risk category, nor did I have any pre-existing health conditions. Friends organised a Zoom online – ah, remember when Zoom was new and exciting – for my birthday. I joined for a while, but could barely hold my head up. It felt so heavy.

By the Monday I thought I was feeling better, and joined a gentle Yin Yoga class online. I couldn't lift  my arms over my head, or lean forward. My entire back felt as if it had been dried out into a crisp, and that moving would scrunch and tear it. Still not well, then? 

But remember… it's a fever and a cough. 

A temperature again on day six. It went. I'd been given medical advice to go outside as soon as my seven-day isolation ended, to help cope with the anxiety. I did, just along the road a little, by myself and without seeing anyone. Back home. I hoped that would be the end  of it.