2020 – My year
With anticipation, the
world ushered in the New Year with hopes of health, kindness, and peace. We all
looked forward to making New Year’s resolutions of eating better, exercising,
finishing projects we begin, entering the number of books we have added to our goodreads
challenge, and by January 2nd, breaking the piecrust promises made
on December 31st.
January
The year began with our
only daughter boarding a plane to travel 24 hours to Vietnam to visit a high
school friend’s country, family, and attend a traditional wedding of mutual
high school chums. Three weeks later and two consecutive Wednesdays later,
exhausted, new friends, a ton of memories and a bout of pneumonia. Only a week
prior the national news had briefly mentioned a virus coming out of China, but
of course, that was China, no need to worry here. However, when you have a kid
in Asia and not feeling well, of course, we worried. A trip to immedicare and antibiotics
later, poof, pneumonia is a thing of the past.
Jump back to November
2019 for a moment. Just days before Thanksgiving, I took a face plant at one of
the busiest intersections downtown. ER visits, neurologist and cardiologist
visits spill into January. MRIs and overnight brain scan later, the neurologist
said I was having missed heartbeats and should see a cardiologist. I was also
told his office would obtain new authorizations for another follow up MRI and a
more in-depth MRA. Meanwhile, at the cardiologist office, I was told the
syncope was likely not my heart but neuro problem, but to be sure, more
testing. A 24 hour heart monitor, stress tests, 2-D echo, etc., etc., Yes, I do
have missed heartbeats, everyone does, about 100 a day; mine, 1,000 a day. For
monitoring and peace of mind, a loop recorder insertion was planned. Another
authorization to wait for.
February
Ever have a sonogram of
your knuckles. I never knew there was such a thing. Testing showed what I
already knew. Arthritis.
March
If there was a month I
would delete from this year, it would be March. Novel coronavirus Covid-19
began its way to New York. March also brought some significant health changes
for me.
On March 5th,
I had the little loop recorder inserted near my heart. Simple outpatient
procedure. The hot topic was the virus spreading through Europe. The nurse
attending to me hoped it would not stop her from taking her bucket list trip to
Italy. I’m sure she never got to go.
Five days post-op I
developed a low grade fever. Of course I did. I always do after a procedure.
And of course I paid no attention. Everything looked fine at the check.
By the 12th,
the governor all but closed NYC and the rest of the state followed. By the 17th,
we were at a work three days in the office and home the next three. My low
grade fever back, but not concerned. By the 20th, all but essential
workers were to self-quarantine as much as possible. My husband and I had a
fairly large shopping trip finished. By this time, bleach, disinfectant, and of
all things, toilet tissue was flying off the shelves. There was a total of 310
cases of Covid-19 in Erie County by the time and I was put on antibiotics for a
UTI on the 27th.
Monday the 30th,
my breathing was a little labored and my temperature movin’ on up as George
Jefferson would have said. My doctor sent me to the designated hospital for
Covid-19; security there told me they “don’t care if you die right there on the
sidewalk, you ain’t getting in here without an ambulance”. Another call to the
doctor who sent me to a local hospital set up for testing. As I lay in the emergency
room of the hospital I had worked in for 14 years, I received the 25 thousand
dollar work up (the bill sent to my insurance). I had a nasal swab novel
coronavirus test, blood work, chest x-rays, MRI of my chest, more bloodwork,
ice chips after begging, more chest x-rays, two liters of potassium
(dangerously dehydrated) and a visit from the ER doctor who told me he didn’t
need the results to see I had pneumonia and Covid-19. I was to go home, have
the house sanitized, call my doctor in the morning, have everyone wear a mask,
and wished my luck. There were 463 reported cases of Covid-19 in Erie County
that day; I would be one of them.
Closing out the month
was a prescription for azithromycin, Z-pac, a plea to actually use my inhaler four
times a days and take my temperature at least twice a day. I took it three
times a day. It made me feel like I was actually helping myself get well.
Before ending the
month, now would be a good time for me to mention the young nursing student who
I consider a hero, not that others are/were not. This young man took care of me
during my ER stay was a year away from graduating from nursing school. He was
fearless working double shifts between all the CHS hospitals covering for
nurses who needed sleep, to see their families, to pray for an end soon. He
told me he doesn’t care about himself, he has no family, no children, no one
who would care if he was here or not. Nine months later, I do not recall his
name or if I ever knew it. I have prayed for him every day since.
April
And so begins my
journey of novel coronavirus Covid-19. The next 14 days will include morning
calls from my physician’s office; afternoon calls from the department of
health.
My fever I had since my
procedure finally broke only a couple days after the diagnosis. It came with a
dream of my parents, sisters, grandparents, all who left too soon, telling me I
could go with them, but I should stay. I still had work to do. Looking back, I would say I was very lucky it
wasn’t worse. There was a chance it could have been, however I still believe
the Z-pac and inhaler may be saved me.
I began feeling better
on day seven but worried about my daughter and husband. My daughter had a fever.
While she wasn’t quite as sick that I recall, I did ask our doctor. I was told
it was her pneumonia. Three months after recovery? It didn’t really matter,
there were no more tests at this point. During this time, I had received my
promotion to go to medicaid after the crisis was over. I was to continue to
work in SNAP during this time.
Before returning to
work, we made about 30 masks for ourselves and those family and friends who
took care of us in their way, food, masks, gloves, and a visit from the Easter
bunny. Three weeks post Covid-19 and I was back to work. Working from home. A
challenge and a learning experience to say the very least.
I found myself having
odd, random thoughts while recovering. Mom’s favorite books, The Little
Minister and The Girl of the Limberlost; Dad’s favorites Earle Stanley’s Perry
Mason mysteries. I thought of Harper Lee’s passage, Neighbors bring food with
death and flowers in sickness and little things in between.
On April 10th,
still in quarantine, I did not see the last leaf fall, but a cardinal. Proof
that I was to survive what by then was being called a pandemic.
May
I’m back to work full
time from home. The state has been in a mandated mask order for public places
since April, we’ve been told the New York State Pause Act will be in effect until
May 15th.
On that very day, I had
an email from medicaid I would be starting training on the 20th. Co-workers
who let before me had returned to SNAP.
Warmer weather arrived,
summer furniture made its way out to the yard and porch, and Gary and Laura decided
it was time, after 11 years, to makeover her room. Laura and I both had the
antibodies test taken, both back as positive. The doctor was wrong, she did
have Covid-19 when I did.
June
The governor has told
us we are still in the Pause until the 7th, but should be able to
start opening Phase I. The stimulus checks are arriving, and I find Medicaid
different and boring.
I still have issues
with smell and taste, the extreme fatigue and exhaustion can be maddening. What
is more maddening, my doctor doubts what I tell him as being a fact.
July
Medicaid has become unbearably
boring and I have returned to SNAP, relinquishing my senior SWE status. I had,
however, made many wonderful friends.
Still self-isolating.
Still wearing masks. Still socially distant. X-ray follow-up shows my lungs are
clear. However, the original lung cat scan had shown a small line of emphazema.
I’m still tired, still taste very little, and smells are off.
I’ve redecorated the
bathroom into more of a tropical feel. Flamingos every where. I’ve also taken
up watercolor painting.
Spending time at home,
I have discovered more DNA cousins, or rather, they have discovered me.
August
NO ERIE COUNTY FAIR!! This
is the first time in 62 years that I have not enjoyed the fair. The smells of
the food and animals! Not that I’m able, still not able to smell properly.
Everything has a chemical or rancid smell. The taste of all the different fair
foods, not that I’d taste them properly.
September
Turned 63 this month
and have turned my thoughts to retirement. Six month survivor of Covid-19.
Still tired. Still unable to taste most foods. Still smelling chemicals.
And most of all, our
Hazel crossed over Rainbow Bridge.
October
Who would have thought Halloween
would possibly be cancelled, close, but it is different. We have never really
had many gremlins on our dead-end street, but even the few are not around.
November
Still working from
home. Still exhausted. Still unable to taste or smell properly. My cardiologist
will be looking for Covid-19 results from a 2-D echo in February. We’d hoped
things would be better rather than worse.
December
Still working from
home. Still exhausted. Still smelling chemicals. Still waiting for Mighty Taco
to taste normal. Still adding hot sauce to just about everything just so I can
at least taste the heat.
There are a few things
I have discovered in 2020.
First and foremost, I
am not a toilet tissue hoarder. There, I have said it.
DNA is a wonderful
thing. Cousins from both sides of my family has discovered me. My Hart brick
wall came tumbling down thanks to a cousin who, sadly, has been taken from us
too soon from cancer. Seems the first Henry Hart was married to Susan Burton
which caused my active imagination to believe I am a cousin to Richard Burton,
making me a cousin-in-law of Elizabeth Taylor twice removed.
On my dad’s side of the
family, due to boarder changes, wars and political reason, I am 100% Slovakian.
I am so good with that.
Covid-19 also gave me
some positive things to be thankful for. My A1c has dropped to one point from a
non-diabetic reading. I have developed a talent for painting. Trust me, prior
to this repeat year of 1920, I had no talent other than enjoying the arts in a
museum.
Most importantly, I discovered
how very important my family is to me. I’ve always suspected they are special,
this just cinched it.
The end of 2020 finds
me in more pain than 2019, but every morning I wake up to another day. As this
new year is in its infancy, don’t make resolutions you will break by January 2nd,
count all the blessings you forgot you
still have.
love to all,
L
