The dreaded pink line was there. I had Covid. It was there. It sat there on my kitchen table mocking my plans for the next five days.
“I think we should go to urgent care because I barely have symptoms, Olivia,” I said to my caregiver.
“You can’t have Covid. You don’t look sick. You’re not coughing. I think it’s allergies,” Olivia responded.
I hopped on the Solv app. It had been my best friend during 2020 when many caregivers tested positive on a frequent basis. I found DuPage Immediate Care which I highly recommend. When we arrived, I checked myself in and left Olivia inside to keep her safe. It had been some time since I had donned a KN95 mask. I’m going to miss lunch with my brother and totally miss Mother’s Day. Shoot. Olivia found me and told me that it was time.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Mike. I heard you received a positive Covid test at home.”
“Correct. But I barely have symptoms,” I said.
“Let me have a listen to your lungs.”
“Mmm…you have a lot of phlegm. I doubt it’s Covid though. Regardless, I’m going to put you on some strong medicine to help with that cough.”
He proceeded to sit down and ask my name. When I told him, he got emotional. I looked at Olivia as if to say, “it never can be normal,” Dr. Mike walked out.
“What was that about?” Olivia asked rhetorically.
His nurse came in and administered a Covid test. That never gets more pleasant. Olivia and I sat there waiting for my prescriptions when the doctor came back in.
“Sorry about getting emotional earlier. I lost a little girl named Hannah almost 12 years to the day.”
“I am so sorry,” I said feeling empathy for the grandfatherly man. He looked at me for a few seconds and then left for the next patient.
The test confirmed I had Covid. No dinner with my brother, I could kiss a fun weekend goodbye, and Mother’s Day at the very least would be watered down if not completely canceled. We didn’t know how I was exposed. My parents were up to bat. I think I said, “I am so sorry,” to my parents and Olivia about a thousand times.
“Nothing you can do about it although you do have a knack for getting it when no one else gets it,” Dad said.
“Cruel little joke that the universe plays on us.”
“Yep.” Dad said.
The next morning, I expected to feel worse, but I still was pretty much symptom free. A little sore throat, a little cough but nothing big. Some colds had been worse than this. My parents were in Uline N95 Standard Industrial Respirator. We took it very seriously. One of my parents would come in, get me dressed, feed me, then leave my bedroom. I didn’t have a ton of energy to write. I was
disappointed. All these appointments canceled, my life on hold, and I couldn’t even be productive. I’m not being hard on myself, I was happy to let my body rest and heal, but I wanted to write and mentally get away from the same four walls. I eventually did do some editing…one of the days…they all blurred together. We all know that feeling. My parents were spectacular. They really did all they could for me including picking up Starbucks (they really know their girl). It was funny because I would call the landline if I needed something, not like I could open my bedroom door and go out.
“When you call, I feel like I am in a horror movie. It’s creepy,” Mom said.
When I was back in Elmhurst, my wrist started hurting. The pain was cruel and unusual. Sharp pain accompanied every movement and not moving it did not provide any respite. My right hand is how I communicate and access the computer. I was in denial and continued to try to text and email. As a handful of you know, I finally had to turn on auto reply.
First, I went to urgent care. It was the same doctor which I was grateful for. I was in excruciating pain and had lost the ability to function without the pain ripping through it. I hadn’t hit it, hadn’t fallen, none of the above. The doctor was so sweet and helped me take an x-ray.
“Hannah, I need you to hold my hand so I can get a good image. Hold on as much as you can,” the sweet old man said.
This poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming. I clenched my hand in his. I proceeded to pull his whole hand a good eight inches across the table. I looked at him as if the say, “Yeah, that’s dystonia for you.”
Nothing was found in the x-ray. He prescribed me pain medicine and an anti-inflammatory. The pain medicine made me feel nauseous and dizzy. The swelling was worse the next day. I called my primary care physician. They make it nearly impossible to get in, but I managed to get in that day. My doctor didn’t know what it was, so she ordered blood tests and an ultrasound. We ran into the kindest woman in the ultrasound lab who took me back right away instead of making me wait three hours.
After all that, they found NOTHING! It is good news but frustrating because we have no idea what it is. Currently, my wrist hurts on and off. I am going to Shirley RyanAbility Lab the week after this post goes up. I’m anxious to know what this strange thing is that is impacting my life. It’s the hand that I do everything with so there is an element of fear here. I’m hoping for answers.
It is my birthday month so it’s a good month regardless of what happens! Please share this with anyone who has similar symptoms. You don’t have to ask, just go ahead.
Happy June,
Hannah!
