Well here’s an unedited story of my experience. Quick note; I actually got Bell’s palsy a week after writing it 😂
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Covid-19: The journey to hell and back (including tips on recovery that worked for me!)
Hi all,
I’ve been a casual observer of the forum for a while now but feel now is the right time I feel to detail my journey and how I dealt with this insidious disease.
First, it’s probably right I provide a bit about me and some backstory; I’m a 37 year old male from the UK with no pre-existing medical conditions. I am a smoker and I my symptoms began on 11th March.
At first it was nothing serious; a scratchy throat, nausea, nasal congestion and a strange headache; the only way I could describe the headache is that it wasn’t conventional - it felt as if music beats would reverberate right through me and I had a mild brain fog.
It wasn’t serious enough to bin off work so I continued and what with the symptoms I was feeling not on the official list of covid-19 symptoms, I wasn’t thinking or considering it could be this illness.
Approximately 1 week later on March 18th at 2.30 it felt as if someone had put a sack of rocks on my back. A really heavy feeling, like nothing I felt before. I went and done some stretches or see if I’d pulled anything but alas I hadn’t - so I continued on and went home, deciding to go to bed when I arrived to ‘sleep it off’.
I felt tired but nothing would prepare me for shitstorm that hit me when I awoke that evening. By 8.30pm, I was convulsing with uncontrollable, unregulated shaking, chills and fever. I felt a tiredness and exhaustion I had never, ever considered possible and all my body and joints ached. My skin felt as if it was on fire. There was no way I was sleeping with whatever this was.
For the next 2 days, it remained much the same but with unreal brain fog. I was putting yoghurt in the cabinets and spoons into the fridge. I knew I needed to eat and hydrate and just about managed some dry toast and soup. I couldn’t focus or barely get out of bed.
By day 3, the above dissipated to be replaced by extreme nausea and diarrhoea. The brain fog remained as did the dehydration and exhaustion... and then, for an hour, it went. I felt on the mend... then it returned, twice as nasty.
Day 4 was much the same but by day 5 and 6, I felt as if there was an upturn. For a bit, I felt better. Then, at 10.30 in the evening, a second round of fever and chills - this time, far more violent than the first round.
Despite this taking a lot out of me, I couldn’t sleep. I spent most of the time shaking and convulsing in bed, hoping I’d be ok but knowing I wasn’t going to be.
And then, right on cue, day 7 - shortness of breath. It began slightly, a few gasps here and there. I medicated it through some breathing exercises I know from the past due to panic attacks. I was still relatively calm, so knew that the shortness of breath could attributed to any anxiety or panic attacks.
By day 8, I spent most of my day walking around my house, doubling over trying to suck air up into my lungs. It was getting worse and worse and, living on my own, I knew I had to seek medical advice. I called NHS 111. The operator told me there was ‘nothing he could do’ and to ‘ride out and keep taking paracetamol’. I implored desperately that I couldn’t breathe and he said only call back unless ‘your lips go blue or you can’t talk’. I thanked him for his time to which he said ‘no problem pal - good luck!’
Good luck? That comment didn’t make me feel much better about my situation at all. With that, I got off the sofa and spent the rest of the evening, like I did the last one, gulping and gasping for air in all sorts of contorted body positions. My diaphragm ached, my lungs hurt, my body was completely exhausted fighting. It felt like a belt around my upper midriff that was being tightened, one notch at a time.
My mother called and asked how I was. I was irritable towards her and gave nothing away about my condition. I told her I was fine and at the same time, angry she didn’t seem too concerned. That was my fault though - I outright bluffed to her I was on the mend... as I really didn’t want her to worry.
After 3 hours I slumped over and literally conceded defeat. Strangely, a weird calm came over me. I didn’t want to die but, if I do, I do. I drifted off to sleep despite the laboured, gasping breathing. At least the neighbours won’t be disturbed by seeing me carted off by people in hazmat suits.
Thankfully, the next day did arrive for me. I got up, delighted to be alive but still struggling with my breathing. The slightest exertions would set the gasping and gulping off, so I went slowly, everywhere. The body still ached and the burning sensations on my skin remained, but I was feeling a bit better.
Fast forward to day 15 and whilst I was still suffering from exhaustion and the ever constant nasal congestion, I decided to step outside for the first time in over two weeks. Glorious sunshine but an eerie calm. The world had changed forever.
By day 21, as my breathing was still a problem I managed to secure an appointment with a doctor. Before meeting, the triage nurse asked me ‘why I hadn’t gone to hospital’ - almost as if she was angry that I hadn’t. I could only afford her a meek ‘because I was told to stay at home’. She was evidently disgusted.
The doctor sat with me for 45 minutes, in full face shield and hazmat suit furiously note-taking on my experiences as I recalled them. He emphasised that they were still learning about covid-19 and it was important to collect as much data as possible; I was only too happy to help and to be honest, it was so nice to have someone to speak with, let alone a medical professional.
He checked me over whilst there; blood oxygen, lungs, the absolute works. He advised me to stay off work until my breathlessness abated and take things easy. He also enquired as to whether I’d had ‘the fatigue’.
I looked at him quizzically and remarked that yes, I’d had the fatigue whilst I was ill. I still felt weak but didn’t feel too bad, just concerned about the breathing. Looking back on his question now, I now know what ‘the fatigue’ meant.
3 days or so later, I felt 90% fine. The breathing issues vanished almost overnight and I was eating and sleeping as normal. I’d go for little walks when the air cooled. My mind was starting to acclimatise to the ‘new normal’. I’d vanished off the face of the earth for about a month but I could now stomach a short video call to friends again. Everything was on the turn...
...little did I know, it would actually be a turn for the worse.
(2nd part coming up - the relapse)
Part 2, the relapse
They say life is full of surprises, well, this was but it shouldn’t have been. After 2 days of feeling completely, utterly normal I awoke with a headache. We’re about a month in now and it was only a tiny pain so I shrugged it off and carried on about my day.
It didn’t shift but I considered my body had been through quite a battle and it was just one of those things. I went to bed and drifted off...
... and was awoken by a feeling like my skin was crawling, fizzing, burning. I sat up in bed - my head was all over the place. It was foggy, messed up. I held out my left arm and it ached. I stood up, my body was in pieces. The aching, burning, tiredness was another level.
For four more days, I lay in bed, only to get up when I needed to drink, go to the toilet or eat. When I did get up, I stumbled around aimlessly, bouncing off the walls and on one occasion, crawling to the fridge. I was done. Cooked. For my friends, I disappeared off the earth again.
I was literally in survival mode. I kept taking paracetamol. I kept drinking water. I slept, a lot. It wasn’t restful sleep despite my exhaustion - it was fitful. An hour here or there. Strange nonsensical dreams.
I couldn’t focus on anything. Normally, when you’re ill, you could stick on a movie or a box set. I couldn’t handle it. My mind was frazzled, destroyed. My body was overrun, exhausted. All I could do was lay there, helpless. Every phone call I had I reassured family and friends I was getting better but I knew different. I was entering round 2... and my gastrointestinal issues resurfaced with a vengeance.
A couple of days later I managed to drag myself out of bed and fire up my computer. I made a spreadsheet of symptoms; fatigue, aches, diarrhoea etc. I rated the severity from 10 (worst) to 1 (minimal). This would at the very least help me identify and chart my progress. I filled it in religiously. By day 10, I’d gone from 74 to 24 points (with a small relapse of 43 in between constant improvement).
A new, more prevalent danger emerged however - my mental health. I was googling everything, I was taking my temperature all the time and I began to worry that I would never get better. I would envisage living with this crippling illness or the remnants of it for the rest of my life; fibromyalgia, restless legs, CFS. All these things do often appear to be something that can introduce themselves after a viral infection.
Still, steady now, I was getting better. Another week passes - I’m at around 6 weeks or so and things began to get a bit better. Every day, a glimmer of hope. Every day, a more fulfilling sleep.
I get the all-clear to return to work. I work 3 days and despite the extreme tiredness at the end of it, I feel like I’ve got purpose again.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, another extreme fatigue crash. Round 3. Please, not again...
(Part 3 coming up shortly) ...
Part 3 - Recovery
Just when you think you’ve beaten it, you get knocked off your feet again.
I didn’t sleep a wink. I went to work irrespective. Walking around with a thermometer sticking out of your mouth isn’t the coolest look, and it did nothing but alarm my employees.
Despite being told I looked well and healthy, my body ached and skin burned. I hadn’t had a temperature in over a month, yet now, once again, felt rotten.
How many times do I have to keep fighting this off?
The brain fog was back. I obsessed over the illness. Googling, asking work colleagues. Whilst my body was failing again, my mind was now taking an almighty battering too.
I tortured myself with my thoughts. I wished I could be anyone but me. I swore profusely at those flaunting lockdown whilst I suffered what seemed a never ending illness.
I saw another doctor. They sympathised and aligned my condition and symptoms with what they were seeing in other patients. I wasn’t alone.
Then they delivered the good news; “Well, you’re not going to die - you would have done so by now”.
Slightly reassuring, however bluntly it was delivered.
They said I should take time off work. I had already had 6 weeks and it be honest, being back to work helped create some structure and point to my life. I settled on reduced hours for 2 weeks. The diagnosis ‘post covid-19 fatigue’.
And there it was - fatigue.
Exhausted, I turned to a wiser, elder gentleman about my ailments. He advised me my immune system was shot to pieces. I needed nutrients, rest and a positive mindset. He empathised this was difficult but insisted. I thought ‘what the hell I’ll give this a try’
That was nearly a month ago.
I am, for all intents and purposes, me again. How? I will list the actions I took in the hope I can help someone on here. If my learnings and experiences can help improve the life of just one person suffering from this illness, I will be happy. Hopefully, it’ll help a lot more than one. Hopefully it’ll help all of you. Here goes...
(Part 4 coming up)...
Part 4
The basics;
Your body is exhausted, your mind is exhausted. It’s taken an almighty battering and you need to refuel it. Don’t skip meals and get good rest, whether that’s sleep or just lounging around. Listen to your body! Don’t fight the tiredness, roll with it. Respond to it’s signals.
For food, make sure you’re getting the vitamins you need. Chicken and vegetables was my main meal for about 2 weeks, and believe me, I hate vegetables but I hated covid-19 more.
Eat regularly and often. If your body tells you to eat, fuel it. Make the meals simple so you don’t tax yourself too much making it.
Don’t skip breakfast. Ever again.
Here’s what was my daily routine at the start. I’ve since adapted it and am now more creative as I’ve got my strength back, but hopefully this will help.
For breakfast, porridge and an apple and banana smoothie.Hot lemon and honey water, and a bottle of cold water with one berocca (multivitamin). That’s everything before I shower, let alone go to work.
Nuts and fruit during the day. Maybe boiled eggs every now and then.
At lunch, a bowl of pasta. Mix it up with other sauces, add extras like chicken or bacon if you want to - for me, I had plain pasta and a drizzle of olive oil until I got my appetite back.
For dinner, veggies and chicken. A bloody big plate of it. If I snacked, it was veggie crisps, nuts or a fruit again.
Reset your sleep. Look up circadian sleeping patterns and how it affects the quality of sleep. It’s hard at first, but persist and keep trying.
Most importantly of all - keep hydrating during the day. Water, water, water.
Ditch coffee, or only have it sparingly in the morning. Switch to the hot lemon and honey tea, it still amazes me the difference I feel drinking that. I have at least 2-3 cups a day now. If you have a lot of it, or have fresh lemon water, use a straw - it’ll destroy your teeth otherwise.
Chamomile tea at bed. Helps with sleep. Peppermint tea if your stomach is playing up (I didn’t have a normal stool for 7 weeks...). Persist, persist, persist ... as easy as it is for me to say right now and as hard as it is for you, don’t give up. Sometimes, lucozade during the day. Especially helpful during early illness to replace electrolytes.
Once a week, I have an iron tablet. Best check with your doctor before doing so as I’m not a virologist or medical professional, but I’ve noticed an upsurge in feeling better in terms of my skin isn’t feeling like it’s burning anymore and I can go up the stairs without that ‘burn’, if you know what i mean.
Repeat and rinse. Don’t miss breakfast, lunch or dinner. Hydrate constantly. When you’re choosing what to eat, consider that your body has been ravaged by this disease and needs rebuilding; hell, I didn’t like 70% of the food I ate but I couldn’t stand feeling like death every day. Help your body overcome it and it will.
Get limited exercise and fresh air where possible but don’t stress your body - it’ll send you back days if you do.
If anyone needs any further help or advice, ask me, send me a message, whatever. I’ll help anyone and support everyone I can, daily business at work notwithstanding. You can do it, I promise and I will bloody well help you there myself if I can.
I’m still learning myself - I’m only a week and a bit symptom free in all honestly but every day I done this, I got better physically. And with that, seeing an improvement in my physical health, that lifted my mental health. The mind and body are amazing things, but mine is no more extraordinary than yours.
You can do it!!!!
Stay safe people and apologies for the long story, I’m sure I’ve missed bits out but I wanted you all to know that I know where you’re at and I know what you’re feeling. Love to all of you.
x Ben x
