Red-faced, and not in a good way. Is it ever in a good way?

Last night I was watching an old episode of Scrubs on Peacock, and having a good laugh (I loved that show back in the day) but I couldn’t stop yawning.  It was only a little after 8pm, what’s going on?

That’s always the first sign, but I never seem to remember that.

I finally gave in, and around 9pm I took my BP (blood pressure) pill and got ready for bed.  As I’m laying there reading, my nostrils suddenly filled with the distinct smell of burnt hair and medicine.

Now I know what’s coming.  It will be here between 4-5am.

I jump out of bed, grab my water bottle from the fridge, place it on the floor beside my bed.  In the early morning hours, I’m going to awaken with a lot of head inflammation and a bone-dry mouth.

As I sit here typing this at 7:31 in the morning, my temples ache and my face burns like a bad sunburn, as does the top of my hands and back of my neck.  The irony is, I had a Facetime appointment with my neurologist’s office yesterday, and told them I usually have mini “long covid relapses” almost daily, but every so often I get hit with one overnight that lasts a week or more.

Dr. Yeeuogi said “Your blood contains spike proteins.  We see these spikes in patients with cancer or with chronic, long-term inflammation.  We know yours is the result of long covid, and this can persist for years.”  

I suddenly felt like I did the night Trump won the election, utterly defeated.  At the same time, it’s not as bad as it was this time a year ago.  Last February I was at the senior center, only a few people had shown up for lunch because of a big cold snap, and I was enjoying a second serving of stuffed chicken breast & orzo.  Still, I told the ladies who work there, something was really wrong with me and I wouldn’t be back for awhile.

Things have improved a lot since then, but they could also be so much better.

I’m not sharing this relapse looking for attention or sympathy, I’ve had enough of both.  I’m only sharing because if I don’t, people I know asssume I’ve made a full recovery and are confused why I’m not jumping back into things. 

When I get good days, I get out there.  When I have bad days, I get depressed, fed up.  It used to help me to talk about it, it doesn’t anymore.  Now I just want to sit here and bake and wait for it to be over again.  

The ER doctor at Mercy Hospital told me last March that long covid is a series of relapses and can last a couple of years.  At that time, I was only in my third month.  Now it’s month #14, but I’m more confident this will end.  Thanks for listening, looks like I’m done!