The Past 20 Days
Breathing one day at a time with suspected coronavirus
Twenty days ago, I started self-quarantining at my mother’s home out of an abundance of caution. We had both been traveling separately through multiple international airports and had flown back to Michigan together that day. I had no symptoms, I had been washing my hands frequently and avoiding touching my face. Despite the circumstances, as we settled in, I was a bit relieved to be completely grounded for a couple weeks in isolation so I could spend some time at home clearing out my to-do list.
Then, sixteen days ago, on Wednesday, I hit a sudden wall. I normally deal with chronic pain and fatigue, but this was different. I felt feverish and everything — everything — hurt. Things that I didn’t think possible to hurt, hurt. Still, I was to able to sleep and rest and power through. My breathing was okay and my chest hurt a little. With a bit of coughing and my camera turned off, I led a three-hour anti-racism workshop through Zoom in the evening, and then settled in for the night.
That night through Saturday night, my health worsened. My chest tightened more and ached more and hurt more. Breathing became harder. I started coughing more. I slept a ton. By Friday, when I was able to manage a videochat with my husband, I was pausing every 3 words to try and catch my breath.
