Back on Lock Down

Back on Lock Down

I didn't go to the prairie on Friday.

It had been an awful week. And something about what I'd witnessed during my last visit there, which I shared here last week, had placed a chill in my heart. I couldn't bring myself to go. 

The pollen count has been at an all-time high in the Twin Cities. So that played a part in my decision. Turns out my allergies had been acting up all week. Something I'd failed to recognize.

Last Tuesday, I had my very first migraine. I didn't know what it was at first. It started in the center of my face, at the tip-top of the bridge of my nose - a pain, as if someone had shot me with a nail gun. Then it came in waves... pain, spreading in a band across my skull. My stomach flipped and soured. There was a tightness in my chest. Was I having difficulty breathing? I couldn't tell. I felt weak and dizzy... like any moment I'd find my body pitching forward, falling to the ground.

Still, I worked. I wrote. I ate. 

Totally convinced that what I was experiencing had to be Covid-19 related, I had visions of a hospital bed and being taken out of my home and the aftermath - the isolation, the blame...

My anxiety went through the roof. I was terrified. 

Of course my soon-to-be-ex caught wind. He can always tell when I am not myself, and proceeded to freak out accordingly. He's a compulsive-obsessive with a yen for hypochondria. So, per usual, I was the one not feeling well, but it was really all about how it was going to affect him. 

I did what I could. I took my temperature. No fever. But body aches. The headache. My back hurt. I felt weak. I hadn't been sleeping and now, couldn't at all. 

I refused to take an antihistamine. See, they make me rather over-energetic. When under their influence, I talk like a magpie and move about like a 1960's housewife who relies on 'Mother's Little Helpers'. So, my symptoms continued unabated.

By Thursday morning, my head was a bit better, and I felt more hopeful. 

I'd done all I could do to avoid the news, but these days, one can't help but feel that to be in the know is to take back a bit of one's personal power - so I'd been keeping tabs on the rise in Covid-19 cases, which, in turn, helped feed my paranoia. I'd worked myself up into an awful state. 

Remaining wary, by the end of my workday, I felt the pain in my back go from my back to my chest. I called my doctor's nurse. She told me what I was experiencing had nothing to do with Covid, that I should proceed immediately to the emergency room - I could be having a stroke. 

I argued a bit. That was ridiculous, but, in the back of my mind, knew that this was one way to get a Covid test. That would help my anxiety and the fears of those in my tiny circle. For I'd had to stay away from my mother, just in case, and my youngest sister was upset with me. 

Me? I just wanted to know one way or the other. 

Begrudgingly, I went. Four and half hours in the waiting room, dodging people who don't know the meaning of social distancing. Then, three and half hours of sitting in an ER room, taking tests and waiting to take tests. 

My blood work all came back normal. Healthy as can be. We eliminated a few other things. I'd have my Covid results by the next morning. We never discussed allergies. I forgot to bring it up and it never occured to the doctor. Do they read your medical history? Ever?

My Covid test came back negative. There was a huge sigh of relief all around, except now, of course, I'd just spent four and half hours surrounded by who knows what in an ER waiting room. I did my best to assure everyone that I'd been careful. Everyone was wearing masks. Temperatures checked before they could enter the waiting room. I touched very little and washed my hands every hour.

Friday, I took an antihistamine and voila! It did the trick. Somewhat.

Over the weekend, I discovered that air conditioning had something to do with it, too, and that being outside - going for a bike ride - helped enormously.

But I decided not to go the prairie. I'm not sure if I will go back until all this is over. 

Due to the behavior I'd witnessed the previous Friday, I no longer trust those people. 

And... to be honest... I don't trust myself.

If the right dick suddenly appeared and was thrust in my face? 

No. Best to avoid it all together. 

I'll hide in my bunker and live my tiny life within my tiny circle and avoid coming in contact with others as much as possible. 

I've officially declared my own personal lock down. 

I have to do it. Because others depend on me. 

And because I simply don't have the fortitude to deal with all the uncertainty. I truly thought I was losing it last week. It has been a long time since I'd felt that crazy. With that in mind, it is best to mitigate our risk and circle our wagons tight. 

This weekend I am supposed to go to my youngest sister's in Madison. The boyfriend has been looking forward to it - like a kid going to Disneyland - so I can't disappoint. Fortunately, my sister and her husband have been super careful and on their guard from day one of the pandemic. It's a safe house. And we'll all social distance during our stay. 

Throughout all of this, I have been trying to work and trying to write and trying to play piano. None of it felt easy. Everything suffered. And that added to my exhaustion. 

Today - much better. I've learned to take an antihistamine when I get up. They begin to wear off around 3:00 pm. By the next morning, I am feeling horrible and we start the whole cycle again. 

I'm mad at my doctor's nurse for sending me to the ER, but grateful to know that I tested negative for Covid. 

My stomach is still in knots. 

I wonder if that will ever go away? 

And what of Covid? 

Will any of this ever go away?

This Lady's Not Home Today - Melissa Manchester