A letter from Shelley and taking things day by day

I occasionally get emails from people who read or have seen my blog and want to offer some advice, or share their own experiences.  Yesterday I got this email from someone named Shelley:

I’m sorry to read about your long covid Doug I’ve had long covid for six years. As a nurse I got it in my lungs in 2020 while working a Covid wing. In that time it took everything from me. Short of breath today as I speak my lungs burn but it comes and goes. But when it hits hard I want my life to end. I get so depressed. Before covid I loved to dance and exercised all the time. Now I work part time with severe neuropathy caused from Covid. I’ll smile through any symptom except for the shortness of breath it gives me and when I feel inflammation in my brain, the dark thoughts it gives me. What did help was antihistamine and Prilosec. That was a game changer but sadly it wasn’t a cure. Take care and good Luck Doug. Shelley.

I know this wasn't a pleasant read, I'm sorry about that.  I don't know this woman, but my heart still broke for her while reading it.  I totally get it, the anxiety, depression, the dark thoughts.  I earnestly pray for a miracle for Shelley.  (Shelley if you're reading this and want to talk, contact me.)

For all the blogging I've done about this, and sharing with friends, it's still something you pretty much suffer with alone.  I am coming up on the one year anniversary of the return of my long covid, and it didn't make sense the first time I had it, and even less sense now.

I suffered with this for 18 months--from January 2024 to late May 2025--before it began fading for good.  Aside from a 20 minute episode almost daily last summer, and a scary 4 day relapse in July, by late August 2025 I considered it pretty much over.

 (Late August was also the time I got plantar fascitis in both feet, and I had a real temper tantrum over that.  I should've been thanking my maker that the long covid symptoms were gone.)

When I made that dental appointment to get one cavity filled (not the 5 or 6 that shyster claimed needed drilled into and filled) I was 100% certain I was LC free.  He saw me on September 4 for x-rays and a very, very intense cleaning with scrapers and a rotating sand wheel that lasted over an hour and I was STILL absolutely fine the next day.  

It's when I went back on September 11 and he began that drilling, injecting 3 shots of lidocaine into my face and then that one injection of articaine, that did it.  I'm convinced that articaine was the "trigger" for the return of the long covid.  It sent me nearly all the way back to square one.

Anyway, it's been nearly a year now and I get glimpses of hope--but they never seem to last too long.  I was very, very fortunate last Wednesday when I was able to go on that lunch outing at the senior center.  While waiting for the Access shuttle to arrive, my dear friend Mary came in and we got to chat for awhile.  It felt so much like old times.  

But later that night, when I called my friend Diana to tell her about the day, the right side of my face was hurting so badly I had to cut our conversation short.

I look back on this past summer, spending those 8 days in the hospital, the 2 surgeries, the at-home physical therapy and rehab for walking and breathing, I'm almost surprised how successfully that all turned out.  So why can't this?   

I have to believe this isn't going to last forever, it just needs time.  But I'm turning 65 in 2 months and time isn't something I have in abundance.  Okay I'm done, just needed to get this off my chest.  Thanks as always for letting me share.

PS.  I'm finishing up a more lighthearted post I'll be sharing here real soon, I hope you dig it! 

The Laddie in Red and a trip to Carmody's Grille

Today was my second senior outing since last September, a restaurant trip to Carmody's Grille on Neville Island.  

I've been dealing with some oral inflammation these last couple weeks, but had to get out and be with people.  So I filled my pocket with Ricola Mouth Lozenges and off I went.

When I got to the center, they were taking votes on future restaurant outings.  I was excited to vote on a couple places like PF Changs & Mister Lee's, only to see them get shot down in favor of Chili's and Cracker Barrel.  I don't know if I'll be going, these older people are in the majority and keep opting for the same tired places.  

My votes never count, and darn it I'm craving some Chinese!

Anyway, today's lunch was nothing spectacular but the company is always great, it's a nice group of people.  I even had a fun, friendly conversation with "Barb Wire", a short-tempered woman I wrote about on here a year ago.  

Not much to share here, just a few photos.

On my way to the Senior Center, I saw they got a pretty groovy electronic sign out front.  Nice!

Here's Carmody's Grille, on Neville Island.  It's a pretty bleak area but nice inside

My boy Dennis told the waitress  "I want an order of cheese balls, an order of lemon pepper chicken wings, an order of garlic parmesan chicken wings, I want onion rings, a double Bloody Mary, an Alabama Slammer, a Reuben sandwich with french fries, a Hot Sausage sandwich with fries and slaw, a bowl of your famous Turtle Soup for here, and a bowl to take home!"  

Here he is getting started with his soup and appetizers, before they bring his entrees

Here was my Reuben & Coke.  The fries weren't great, but the sandwich was very, very hot (just the way I like it) and very fresh

My bill came to $16.00 and Dennis was $173.00!  (His drinks alone were $40.00.)  I also have to say we had the kindest waitress I've ever met.  She asked each of our names at the start, and remembered them throughout.  

On our way out I told her how much I appreciated her great service and she said "Thank you I'm finally getting the hang of this place--I just started my 40th year here a week ago!"  

Why do we believe death comes in threes? Well, because it often does

Several days ago I was informed that "Bingo Joe" from the Senior Center had recently passed.  I actually knew Joe long before joining the center in 2023, he lived in my apartment building.  

I'd often see him downstairs in the lobby, just kicking back and chillin'.  I'd say "Whaddya know, Joe" and he always smiled and nodded at me.

At the center, I only saw him on Mondays & Fridays when he arrived to call the Bingo numbers after lunch.  I have to tell you, the Bingo crowd is a FAR different crowd than the regulars that are there daily.  A few minutes before noon, the players show up with their various doodads and such, and mark their spots while people are still eating.  We knew to high-tail it out of there before Bingo Joe started calling out numbers at 12:15 sharp.  

One time a couple years ago, my friend Geri was explaining Aetna Medicare to me, and it was 3 minutes to Bingo.  Bingo Joe quietly came up behind Geri and began scooting her chair back from the table while she shouted "Hey, Hey!!  I wasn't done!"  Bingo Joe said "You are now!"   RIP Joe. 

A few days after learning of Bingo Joe's demise, I learned of the recent passing of Sil Confortini.  I haven't seen Mr. Confortini since 1979, but remembered him quite well.

Mr. Confortini was my junior high school Social Studies teacher in 1973-1974.  Truth be told, there's not a lot of things to share about Social Studies, but I remember him always dressing very well.  Always crisp dress shirts and modern ties, and a hint of aftershave.  His son Dean was in my class, we graduated together.  Dean always came to school dressed well too.

Mr. Confortini in the early 1970s, precisely how I remember him

One thing I remember clearly, I had his class at 6th period after lunch.  As he would go on about things like Brazilian exports, I would sometimes get a little dozey.

One time he suddenly stopped lecturing and said "Mr. Morris, I wish you would stop using my classroom for your nap times."  No one laughed, the other kids just turned and looked at me.  I was so embarrassed!

Mr. Confortini graduated from Jefferson Morgan High School in 1949, went to college, returned and taught there for 36 years.  He died of natural causes, a few weeks before his 96th birthday.  That is quite a life.

Finally, I just learned of this one yesterday while getting a haircut--it affected me the most.

This is not a recent picture of Denice.  Her hair was mostly gray like mine, and she wore it pulled back in a ponytail and wore glasses.  She worked at Kuhn's for as long as I can remember, often in the small office near the registers where I would buy stamps or get money for my apartment building's laundry machine.  

I don't want to sound mean, but I always assumed Denice was in her early to mid-70s.  She was slender, but a heavy smoker and in the last year had developed a bad cough.  Last Friday while working, she had a sudden heart attack and dropped to the floor.  When the paramedics arrived, she was already dead.  She was only 62 years old.

She was a wife and grandmother, and had 3 adult children.  I was just talking to her on Wednesday, two days before her passing.  I said her cough was sounding better and she said it should be, she'd had it since December.  It's difficult to believe she's gone... at least she didn't suffer.  

Three people I didn't know well, but still knew well enough.  I just felt compelled to share something.  Thanks for reading.