From doctors to spouses, sisters to friends, strangers to the guy installing the bathroom tile, everyone but EVERY ONE has advice for your long Covid. Afraid of missing out on the one thing that might be the magic bullet, what do I do?
Here’s the run-down of the current advice:
My doctor has me on Tylenol for pain. It doesn’t touch it, but neither did any of the sturdier anti-inflammatories like meloxicam, colchicine, or prednisone. So at least when I take the Tylenol it comes with fewer side effects.
My friend swears by acupuncture. And she’s also a fan of hyperbaric chambers, and can’t wait to try it herself. She wants me to do both.
My sister wants me to work with her massage therapist who works on the meridians of the body.
My craniosacral therapist wants me to see an herbalist, “She’s brilliant!”
Another friend, actually they are a couple, wants me to push through the pain. “I’m buying you a t-shirt that says, ‘I love pain!’. The thought process is that I am either babying myself to recovery or that I won’t recover without being in more pain first, I’m not sure which.
And yet another friend thinks I am pushing too hard. “You just need to go to the beach and relax!”
Wow, it all sounds so ridiculous when I look at it in list form, but it doesn’t feel ridiculous when I’m being stared down by the passion of those who care about me, want the best for me, and don’t understand why I’m not doing what they’ve told me to do. I can see the disappointment in their eyes when I tell them that, “No, I haven’t called your acupuncturist, massage therapist, and herbalist. I tried picking up the pace on my walk but the pain makes me cry, so I stopped. No, the Tylenol isn’t working and I didn’t take a nap on the beach.” Is there anyone else I can disappoint today? Please take a number.
Is there anyone else I can disappoint today? Please take a number.
It’s hard to disappoint the doctor, even though “The Tylenol isn’t working” seems so minor. But it’s much bigger than that. The more that their solutions (their because it’s a cardiologist and his nurse practitioner) don’t work, the more I’m afraid they are going to discount a need to help me. Dump me in that file of recalcitrant patients. Patients who are more psychosomatic than somatic. And if the medical team gives up, then what? Then what team do I work with next? The Dodgers?
All of my friends and family fall into the same category of people I want and need in my life. And when they tell me, “I’m sure this will work!”, and then I don’t do it, they look at me as if I want to be in pain. I get that look, or couples share a knowing glance that says, “Well, we tried. If she wanted to get better, she would. I guess she just wants to be sick. She must be getting something out of this.” AAAAGGGHHHHH!
Yep, I’m getting a lot out of this long Covid shit. I get to look at my paddleboard and cry because I won’t be using it this summer. I get to walk into my favorite swimming hole and… not swim; just stand there like a stick in the mud–literally. There are so, so many things I’m getting out of this.
But here’s what I’m not getting out of long Covid. I need a medical team that will at least glance at the studies I send their way. My team told me, “It’s all so new. There’s just so much we don’t know.” Ok, I get that. But if I do research via reliable resources as new studies are published every week, please look at them. Please don’t spout data that is outdated even if it is only 6-month-old data. Old studies are not in the best interest of your patients. Certainly not in mine.
Here’s what I’m learning from long Covid. My friends and family love me. They don’t know that because I don’t get to see them very much right now due to feeling like crapola, I ache to see them even more. Ache for my boring, normal life. Their lives are going on, mine is at a standstill. They are doing the things we loved doing together. I am “healing.” I have also learned how easy it is to see the disappointment in their eyes and how hurtful it is. I wish I couldn’t see that.
Feather
A day at the cool, foggy beach. It’s a gorgeous morning with birds, dolphins and puppy dogs. This feather is so cool with its purple quill. Maybe it has a message for me — I’m not sure.
I just took a minute to look up the symbolic meaning of a black feather. Worldbirds.com says that it is a direct connection to the divine. Feathers in general are a “sign of encouragement from the spiritual world to keep on going, even when times get tough.” Thank you at Worldbirds.com, I’ll take that encouragement with a boatload of gratitude.