Of all days, I felt particularly tired on my birthday. I understood, though. This had been a June like no other. Stress, left, right and center. Among my biggest worries was my mother having been admitted in hospital because of covid related ailments. That’s how they classify them🙄. I kept saying to myself, mother make sure you don’t spoil my birthday.

Of course, she listened. She pulled through. Such a miracle! I’m still in awe. So when I felt all too heavy, weak and burdened on my birthday I didn’t think much of it. I said to myself, gal it’s been rough. Your body can’t take it anymore. I couldn’t get myself to create a hype around my birthday as usual. I had a lunch date scheduled, I asked to cancel but my friend insisted. She reckoned I was planning to be miserable at home, with my husband miles away. I obliged. We did have a good time.

I got home alright. I was exhausted. My sister had bought me a cake, I couldn’t have it. I went to bed, very cold. I tried home flu remedies and fell asleep. My nephew had planned a small dinner that day, he could tell from my voice it wouldn’t be possible. Why not breakfast tomorrow instead? Perfect and it was a holiday. We had the breakfast but as soon as I got home, the fatigue returned. I honestly didn’t think much of it. There were a thousand good reasons I could be fatigued.

We had just relocated home in December. I had taken up work immediately and never went on leave. My body could be complaining. The following day I went to work. My body was still complaining. I had no appetite whatsoever. The day was a drag and I couldn’t wait to get home. On the way back, I slammed my breaks twice. I felt a little dizzy and the afternoon traffic wasn’t helping. I wondered what the driver in front of me would do if he knew I almost bumped his car twice. I finally got home.

That Friday I got into my blankets, with my bomber jacket, more blankets and the heater but I still felt cold. The whole weekend I couldn’t get my head off the blankets so on Sunday I asked my sister to take me to the doctor’s. If there was anything that required effort, I had to be counted out. Even just opening my mouth to speak was a struggle. The doctor checked my vitals, my pulse was alarmingly high. His first prognosis was thyroid malfunction. Okay, I could live with that. The following day I had to come for blood work. I wasn’t getting any better.

I would wake up early in the morning, fill my bathtub with hot water and literally fall asleep until the water was lukewarm. I couldn’t keep food in. I resorted to mageu, fruits and anything else that could stay. The doctor was gracious enough to give me energy supplements. They picked me up when I needed to go for another visit. After a long wait, the doctor meets me.

Onalenna, have you tested for covid?

No.

Your results are back. There is a virus suppressing your immune system. You need to test.

Naturally, I’m defeated. What can I do? The doctor has spoken. I take the test. It’s POSITIVE. Nobody wants to hear that. It’s as if as soon as you get these results, the weight of the disease comes weighing down. I was given a prescription but when I got to the pharmacy, the pharmacist mumbled something like medical aid wouldn’t pay if there was no doctor’s number. I told him I’d pay for the medication myself. Between arguing with a pharmacist and being home, I chose the latter.

My body had heard the results. The cough just wouldn’t stop. I could hardly wear the mask, it was suffocating me. I got home, took my first dose of medication and tried to rest. It was rough. Muscle spasms, the cough, breathlessness. We generally take things for granted, when all is good and well. Have you ever known a single trip to the toilet for number one could drain all your energy and leave you breathless? At one point I went to the bathroom at night, my head spinning.

Not now, God, not here, not like this, I muttered. My daughter sleeping peacefully on my bed. Yes, they refused to isolate. They wanted to take care of me. They wanted to hug me. God bless my children. I prayed for the Lord to preserve them. He heard me🙏🏾. They were quick to respond when I needed something, sometimes just asking if I called. I felt blessed.

Amidst the pain, I was surrounded by love. Too much love. Too much to put to words. From friends dropping me off at the clinic, risking their lives, to groceries being dropped off. The calls, sometimes too overwhelming for me, when my energy was depleted and I couldn’t talk. The prayers, that move mountains. I felt loved, cared for and cherished.

I write this not fully recovered, my face thin, flesh stuck to the bones, lips cracked. I can hardly walk a few steps without panting BUT my heart is full of gratitude for life and for love.