Not A Bad Cold

 My paternal grandmother, Mabel Draper, was a tiny thing. Affectionally called Mom by the whole family, she could walk under my outstretched arm. She was a tough little lady who lived to be 93. She bore three children and was fond of saying that she'd rather have a baby than a bad cold. 

Bad colds. They are no fun, but despite the comfort offered by today's medical establishment, I would rather have a bad cold than a baby. Hands down.  

So when I heard again and again that catching COVID was like a bad cold, I didn't panic when I tested positive two weeks ago. I'm made of stern stuff, I could easily handle it. Look at my grandmother. Toughness is in my genes! Besides, I'd had all vaccines and boosters!

Friends, it was not like a bad cold. Here's why. 

1. WEIRD SYMPTOMS. Mom's doctor told me that odd thing about COVID was that it presented differently in every patient. Despite that, I was blissfully unaware when I developed a super mild tickle in my throat. Then I noticed a sore arm (which turned out to be enlarged lymph nodes.) I also developed a mouthful of tiny canker-like sores. I had not experienced the like since I went through final exams my first semester at UNC. And hoarseness - My voice started sounding like that of a successful phone sex operator, low and husky.

2. FEVER AND CHILLS.   The following day I started feeling off. I tested negative and then positive on the next day. By that afternoon had a fever of 101. By the next day, it had soared to 102.5. I froze, then  roasted, soaking sheets and nightgowns with my sweat. For 48 hours. I was too sick to read, and friends, for me, that's sick. I am sure you could have fried not just an egg, but a steak to go with it on my sweaty head. In desperation, I took to wearing a cold bathcloth on my noggin to cool myself down. I looked like a initiate to a weird religious sect. 

3. DIARRHEA.  I dutifully contacted a virtual care provider after testing positive and they immediately put me on an antiviral. But they chose a less popular antiviral since Paxlovid could interfere with my asthma meds. The side effect, she said, was diarrhea. So I had it. Five days worth. 

4. SNOT. I am not stranger to snot. I suffer from chronic sinusitus. I do nasal rinses twice a day. But the congestion that took over my sinuses was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I am convinced a black hole appeared in my head through which traveled snot from all corners of the universe. First, it was as if someone had left a spigot on. There was a steady stream. I could not move without a fresh rivulet rushing out of my nose.. But then came the snot monsters that stumbled out of my space anomoly. Viscous and green they oozed out of my nostrils in an agonizingly slow ballet.  

    (Aside: Earle caught COVID a day or two after me and followed the same sequence of major symptoms. Between us, we went through 16 boxes of tissues in a week. That's 1,984 individual tissues. Earle said that if not for Puffs Plus Lotion, we'd have no noses left.)

5. COUGH. Once the snot monstors evacuated my sinuses, they simply moved down into my lungs. I developed a cough reminicent of a coal miner who smoked three packs a day and moonlighted in an asbestos mine. Hacking, uterus-rattling coughs that unlodged gunk too disgusting to describe. A cough that lingers in a milder form today, two weeks since the onset of symptoms. 

6. SORE THROAT. I'm also used to mild sore throat from sinus condition. This one felt like I swallowed razor blades. 

7. TASTE. I did temporarily lose most of my sense of taste. In an effort to order something from Instacart that I could taste I selected a bag of Jalapeno and Lime Ruffles. I could faintly taste them and they were delicious. But I forgot about the impact on Symptom #3. 

8. FATIGUE. Too tiring to describe. 

That sums it up. 

I was sick. Really sick.

It wasn't like a bad cold.

And yep, I'd rather have a baby than have COVID again. 

EPILOGUE. 

Mom started developing some mild symptoms so we got her on Paxlovid right away. Turns out she's made of tough stuff too. Here she is while her hairdresser (me) was out of commission. 

And here's my precious grandmother, Mom, with my younger son. She was tiny but mighty.