Hey everyone. I’ve been pretty MIA, and the reason is because my family and I have been at home with COVID. 

I’ve needed time to rest, both emotionally and physically, and we are now out of quarantine, on the mend, and for that I am infinitely and immeasurably thankful.

Just for a disclaimer before I begin, anyone who knows us knows how careful and cautious we have been; we do not know how we got it so PLEASE refrain from asking me this. Thank you. Ily.

So.

On Sunday morning, one of my immediate family members with whom I live woke up, felt like something was wrong, got tested, and was quickly confirmed positive. We all set up camp in our individual rooms and began quarantining separately until we could all get tested.

When Monday morning came around, I started to not feel well myself. We took separate cars to a local drive-through testing site, where we received both a rapid nasal swab test and a saliva PCR. It would take a few days to receive our PCR results, but we received our rapid results shortly after the sample was collected – negative. While a negative result is, of course, ideal, we knew there were too many factors coming into play for us to take this as concrete confirmation that I didn’t have COVID; knowing that 1) I was not feeling well, with many of the telltale symptoms beginning to emerge, 2) there is indeed a high rate of false negatives when it comes to rapid tests and, 3) that if you test too soon after exposure, it can result in a false negative, we continued to separately quarantine at home until we could get our PCR results back and see how we felt. 

Come Monday night, I knew I had it. If there’s one thing chronic illness has given me, it’s the instinctual superpower of being able to listen to my body. I began to develop a fever, intense body aches, alternating chills and sweats, and I just knew. Our PCR results came in quite quickly on Tuesday night and we were confirmed positive. It all happened so quickly, and I was honestly more worried for everyone else than I was for myself, even though they were all worried for me.

By Wednesday, I couldn’t stay awake for more than maybe two hours at a time. As someone with a chronic illness, I’m no stranger to fatigue, but this was intense. My personal symptoms included fever, chills/sweats, body aches, intense fatigue, a horrible cough, congestion, sore throat, chest tightness, shortness of breath, loss of appetite, and I’m probably forgetting a few because my brain is truly still not functioning at full capacity. The pain in my throat was getting worse by the hour; it was as if there was a  flaming hot rock lodged in the middle of my throat, making it exceedingly difficult for me to swallow, speak, breathe, anything. I began to experience what felt like muscle spasms in the front of my throat and back of my neck. When the inflammation and swelling began to reach a point where I couldn’t physically speak or breathe properly, I was advised and made the decision to go to the ER so that I could receive some treatment and so that  they could run some additional tests. Ultimately, I was given IV steroids, IV fluids, and put on a steroid medrol dose pack that I would take for the next few days to open everything back up and to reduce the swelling and the pain, which it did.

I am just so beyond grateful for the frontline workers, from the nurses to the doctors to the hospital security staff, who put their health at risk every single day to protect the health of others. I’m beyond grateful for access to such care, and for listening to my body through it all. 

One of my biggest fears originally was that the virus would send me into an IBD flare. I was completely and utterly terrified of this. I remember writing a few months ago, when we all first when into lockdown, that “to already live in a body and in a life that inherently holds so much unknown and vulnerability when it comes to my health, and to have that sense of uncertainty that constantly exists within myself now amplified throughout the world, to have that unknown intensified to this eist in this short amount of time, has brought so many emotions to the surface. It feels like the unpredictability that comes with living life with a chronic illness has multiplied tenfold.” While I still feel that way sometimes, and while I certainly felt that way over the course of these past few days, one of the biggest things that has helped me in navigating this is focusing on real, factual information and educating myself to drown out the noise – noise that can come both externally, from others, and internally, from a restless, anxiety-driven mind like mine. While this isn’t really an experience you can ever fully prepare for, by speaking to my healthcare team and learning the truth, statistic, and best course of treatment for my personal situation, I was able to focus on the things that I could control and focus on the present, which helped in minimizing me jumping to the worst-case scenario in my head. And, while everyone and every situation is different, I hope that it can offer some comfort to know that COVID did not cause my IBD to flare. (Although having COVID while it is simultaneously that time of the month should literally be illegal. That’s a conversation for another time because holy double whammy). 

I share my experience not to instill fear, but to remind you that this is something that needs to be taken seriously. While we cannot live our lives in fear, we must be vigilant in doing everything we humanly can to protect others and ourselves. 

I remind you, as I always do, that am not a medical professional and am just simply sharing my own lived experiences. 

Thank you, for the love and support sent our way while we have been recovering. Thank you for being here through it all.