THIS IS LONG-TERM COVID

HEALTH, THOUGHT-PROVOKING, USEFUL

As per the opening line, this list from Lucille Whiting isn’t to scare anyone, but instead give a personal insight of the continued impact of COVID-19 on her health. Something I haven’t seen or read much on, but am keen to learn more about…

This list is not intended to frighten, but to inform. If it helps just one person, then writing it is worth it.
I have chronic ulcerative interstitial cystitis and have experienced chronic pain for almost 20 years.
I wasn’t diagnosed for 18 years during which time I had 5 children and 9 miscarriages.
My youngest child is homeschooled full time as he has complex anaphylactic allergies.
Some say I’m a little unlucky.
I started working from home 14 years ago so that I could care for my children, pace myself and better manage my health.
I’m a self-taught jewellery designer and sculptor.
I’m very self-sufficient and positive. I’m well used to dealing with overwhelm and feeling unwell. I competently manage my health every day and I’m great in a crisis – This is all important.
On Easter Monday 2020 I was working at my computer when my youngest daughter ran in to say that her little brother had spots.
When I went out to the kitchen to give him some antihistamine, I found his brother sat on the floor cross legged.
The littlest was slumped across his legs. He was stroking his hair.
He had had an allergic reaction to “something” – what we’ll never know.
He didn’t attempt to get help. He couldn’t breathe so he just laid down on his brother’s lap.
I screamed for help and grabbed his Epipens. His Dad ran down the stairs and immediately injected the adrenaline while I called the ambulance.
He was covered in hives from his head to his toes. They were around his eyes and under his hair. Everywhere.
The paramedics arrived in minutes, the adrenaline started to work, and he began to sit up.
The paramedics were beyond amazing. How on earth they can walk into a house and see a child like that and be so kind and calm is beyond me.
They immediately took us to the nearest hospital.
We were seen in Accident & Emergency and then moved to the ward for observation for four hours – There’s always a risk with ingested allergens that reactions can re-occur as the adrenaline wears off.
Everyone we came into contact with was so kind.
What happened next was no one’s fault. We were in hospital in the high of the covid-19 pandemic. Every precaution was taken. Everyone wore masks and the hospital was spotlessly clean.
It was the wrong place at the wrong time.
Until that point, we had done everything right. Socially distanced walks over the countryside. Online shopping. We hadn’t even visited the village shop.
10 days later, I had taken the children out for a walk over the fields when I started to get a headache.
By the time we got home, it was a lot worse. I got everyone ready for bed, tucked them in, read them a story and got an early night myself.
I had a bit of a snuffly nose, but it was just a cold. No temperature and no significant cough.
The next day, the headache was still there. I felt nauseous and everything started to smell and taste awful. My husband was eating breakfast with tomato ketchup and I had to leave the room. The smell was dreadful.
I felt as if someone was sitting on me. It was the strangest sensation.
The next day was Monday. My husband went off to work. I took a couple of paracetamol for the headache and got on with home schooling.
I went to bed early again as I was feeling tired, sick and pretty rough.
My husband drove us to the Covid-19 test centre. I couldn’t drive.
At quarter to midnight a scream woke me up. I threw off the bed covers and ran into the children’s bedroom.
My middle son was sat on top of his sister’s bed. Wide eyed, shaking uncontrollably. “Mummy I couldn’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to sleep, I’ll stop breathing”.
His Dad lifted him down. As he reached the hallway he was very sick.
The vomiting continued. His temperature was over 40 yet me felt cold. We phoned 111.
They sat with us on the phone for hours as slowly we managed to get his temperature down.
The temperature continued for days. We were told to alternate between paracetamol and ibuprofen to keep his temperature down continuously over 24 hours, but it was still over 39.
By Wednesday, all 5 children had headaches and were sneezing.
Vertigo kicked in for me and I couldn’t stand without help. I could no longer keep down fluids and was continuously being sick.
The only thing I can compare it to is hyperemesis gravidarum.
The test results came back – we were both positive.
Thursday. I was laid on the sofa under a blanket with my son when his sister walked into the room looking confused.
In front of my eyes the colour drained from her face. She went grey and broke into a cold sweat. She couldn’t breathe. She was frightened. It was that fast.
I laid still holding the sickest children while my husband tried to manage the others – by now, all feeling poorly.
We put them to bed each night waiting for the next one to go down.
By Sunday, after a week of sickness and several days without water my doctor called for an ambulance.
The paramedics were brilliant, but they had no way of knowing what was exactly wrong. As I left the house they told me to kiss the children goodbye in case I couldn’t come home.
I was lucky.
2 bags of I.V fluids and I was discharged with a box of anti-emetics.
They didn’t work. By the following afternoon, I was back in the same state.
I phoned my GP. He prescribed a different anti-sickness medication. Within an hour, the sickness started to ease.
It took another week, but I could finally get up without falling.
I developed shingles at 4 weeks – My immune system doesn’t like me very much.
I continued to take the anti-emetics for 5 weeks.
Sickness, headaches and random outbreaks of hives continued in the children for 16 weeks.
At around 4 months, when we thought it was all over, I got up from my computer one Sunday morning (the fortunately the weekend) and haemorrhaged. The continuous fast-flowing blood stopped after 2 hours.
Two weeks later, it happened again, but was not as sudden. The bleeding continued for 2 weeks.
My hair started to fall out. Exactly like it does after having a baby.
I took 4 courses of antibiotics for bladder infections. When the lining of your bladder is ulcerated, infections are indescribable.
We’re 5 months in. The symptoms seem to randomly come and go. I still have days when I feel cold, shivery and nauseous, but these days are becoming less frequent all the time.
The tiredness and insomnia are also subsiding – bizarre viral quirks that I could well do without.
I had to email so many potential customers explaining why I hadn’t been able to answer my emails.
It was heart-breaking to have lost so much as such a critical time of the year. I had lost all of my Father’s Day orders and totally missed wedding ring season.
My social media accounts lay abandoned.
It’s the most surreal thing to fall off the face of the planet for half a year – and realise that the world just carried on without you.
But there were messages from everyone on Instagram asking where I was.
A lot of customers had decided to wait for me to return.
I’m tentatively back at my beloved jewellery bench. Drawing up new designs and talking with clients.
I have a waiting list for commissions.
I’m so thankful to everyone who thought of us, who checked in on us, who brought us food and prescriptions.
I’m grateful to every single person in the NHS who helped us. They’re dealing with the impossible.
Covid-19 knocked me on my backside for half a year, yet we are all considered ‘minor’ Coronavirus cases.
None of us needed ventilation or were hospitalised for any length of time.
This is long-Covid. We’re long-haulers. It’s normal and expected.
We didn’t die and we didn’t get better. We exist in the space in-between.
As the children return to school this week, please remember than not everyone got through the last six months unscathed. There are families that lost jobs, lost loved ones and families like us who were frighteningly sick and for whom returning to the classroom is huge.
Always be kind.
We got lucky. I’ll never stop feeling very, very lucky.

Previous Post Next Post

THIS IS LONG-TERM COVID

As per the opening line, this list from Lucille Whiting isn’t to scare anyone, but instead give a personal insight of the continued impact of COVID-19 on her health. Something I haven’t seen or read much on, but am keen to learn more about…

This list is not intended to frighten, but to inform. If it helps just one person, then writing it is worth it.

I have chronic ulcerative interstitial cystitis and have experienced chronic pain for almost 20 years.

I wasn’t diagnosed for 18 years during which time I had 5 children and 9 miscarriages.

My youngest child is homeschooled full time as he has complex anaphylactic allergies.

Some say I’m a little unlucky.

I started working from home 14 years ago so that I could care for my children, pace myself and better manage my health.

I’m a self-taught jewellery designer and sculptor.

I’m very self-sufficient and positive. I’m well used to dealing with overwhelm and feeling unwell. I competently manage my health every day and I’m great in a crisis – This is all important.

On Easter Monday 2020 I was working at my computer when my youngest daughter ran in to say that her little brother had spots.

When I went out to the kitchen to give him some antihistamine, I found his brother sat on the floor cross legged.

The littlest was slumped across his legs. He was stroking his hair.

He had had an allergic reaction to “something” – what we’ll never know.

He didn’t attempt to get help. He couldn’t breathe so he just laid down on his brother’s lap.

I screamed for help and grabbed his Epipens. His Dad ran down the stairs and immediately injected the adrenaline while I called the ambulance.

He was covered in hives from his head to his toes. They were around his eyes and under his hair. Everywhere.

The paramedics arrived in minutes, the adrenaline started to work, and he began to sit up.

The paramedics were beyond amazing. How on earth they can walk into a house and see a child like that and be so kind and calm is beyond me.

They immediately took us to the nearest hospital.

We were seen in Accident & Emergency and then moved to the ward for observation for four hours – There’s always a risk with ingested allergens that reactions can re-occur as the adrenaline wears off.

Everyone we came into contact with was so kind.

What happened next was no one’s fault. We were in hospital in the high of the covid-19 pandemic. Every precaution was taken. Everyone wore masks and the hospital was spotlessly clean.

It was the wrong place at the wrong time.

Until that point, we had done everything right. Socially distanced walks over the countryside. Online shopping. We hadn’t even visited the village shop.

10 days later, I had taken the children out for a walk over the fields when I started to get a headache.

By the time we got home, it was a lot worse. I got everyone ready for bed, tucked them in, read them a story and got an early night myself.

I had a bit of a snuffly nose, but it was just a cold. No temperature and no significant cough.

The next day, the headache was still there. I felt nauseous and everything started to smell and taste awful. My husband was eating breakfast with tomato ketchup and I had to leave the room. The smell was dreadful.

I felt as if someone was sitting on me. It was the strangest sensation.

The next day was Monday. My husband went off to work. I took a couple of paracetamol for the headache and got on with home schooling.

I went to bed early again as I was feeling tired, sick and pretty rough.

My husband drove us to the Covid-19 test centre. I couldn’t drive.

At quarter to midnight a scream woke me up. I threw off the bed covers and ran into the children’s bedroom.

My middle son was sat on top of his sister’s bed. Wide eyed, shaking uncontrollably. “Mummy I couldn’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to sleep, I’ll stop breathing”.

His Dad lifted him down. As he reached the hallway he was very sick.

The vomiting continued. His temperature was over 40 yet me felt cold. We phoned 111.

They sat with us on the phone for hours as slowly we managed to get his temperature down.

The temperature continued for days. We were told to alternate between paracetamol and ibuprofen to keep his temperature down continuously over 24 hours, but it was still over 39.

By Wednesday, all 5 children had headaches and were sneezing.

Vertigo kicked in for me and I couldn’t stand without help. I could no longer keep down fluids and was continuously being sick.

The only thing I can compare it to is hyperemesis gravidarum.

The test results came back – we were both positive.

Thursday. I was laid on the sofa under a blanket with my son when his sister walked into the room looking confused.

In front of my eyes the colour drained from her face. She went grey and broke into a cold sweat. She couldn’t breathe. She was frightened. It was that fast.

I laid still holding the sickest children while my husband tried to manage the others – by now, all feeling poorly.

We put them to bed each night waiting for the next one to go down.

By Sunday, after a week of sickness and several days without water my doctor called for an ambulance.

The paramedics were brilliant, but they had no way of knowing what was exactly wrong. As I left the house they told me to kiss the children goodbye in case I couldn’t come home.

I was lucky.

2 bags of I.V fluids and I was discharged with a box of anti-emetics.

They didn’t work. By the following afternoon, I was back in the same state.

I phoned my GP. He prescribed a different anti-sickness medication. Within an hour, the sickness started to ease.

It took another week, but I could finally get up without falling.

I developed shingles at 4 weeks – My immune system doesn’t like me very much.

I continued to take the anti-emetics for 5 weeks.

Sickness, headaches and random outbreaks of hives continued in the children for 16 weeks.

At around 4 months, when we thought it was all over, I got up from my computer one Sunday morning (the fortunately the weekend) and haemorrhaged. The continuous fast-flowing blood stopped after 2 hours.

Two weeks later, it happened again, but was not as sudden. The bleeding continued for 2 weeks.

My hair started to fall out. Exactly like it does after having a baby.

I took 4 courses of antibiotics for bladder infections. When the lining of your bladder is ulcerated, infections are indescribable.

We’re 5 months in. The symptoms seem to randomly come and go. I still have days when I feel cold, shivery and nauseous, but these days are becoming less frequent all the time.

The tiredness and insomnia are also subsiding – bizarre viral quirks that I could well do without.

I had to email so many potential customers explaining why I hadn’t been able to answer my emails.

It was heart-breaking to have lost so much as such a critical time of the year. I had lost all of my Father’s Day orders and totally missed wedding ring season.

My social media accounts lay abandoned.

It’s the most surreal thing to fall off the face of the planet for half a year – and realise that the world just carried on without you.

But there were messages from everyone on Instagram asking where I was.

A lot of customers had decided to wait for me to return.

I’m tentatively back at my beloved jewellery bench. Drawing up new designs and talking with clients.

I have a waiting list for commissions.

I’m so thankful to everyone who thought of us, who checked in on us, who brought us food and prescriptions.

I’m grateful to every single person in the NHS who helped us. They’re dealing with the impossible.

Covid-19 knocked me on my backside for half a year, yet we are all considered ‘minor’ Coronavirus cases.

None of us needed ventilation or were hospitalised for any length of time.

This is long-Covid. We’re long-haulers. It’s normal and expected.

We didn’t die and we didn’t get better. We exist in the space in-between.

As the children return to school this week, please remember than not everyone got through the last six months unscathed. There are families that lost jobs, lost loved ones and families like us who were frighteningly sick and for whom returning to the classroom is huge.

Always be kind.

We got lucky. I’ll never stop feeling very, very lucky.