Feeling like shit. This is no fun. I got the vaccine. It wasn't supposed to be like this. All I can do is take pain relievers and drink water. I stay in bed about twenty one hours a day. I leave a gentle samba station playing day and night and have a soft light on the leaks into the bedroom. One does not want the dark in such times. Nor the silence. But there is only so much sleeping you can do, and so there is the thinking. One of the long-haul effects of Covid, I have read, is anxiety and depression. Just what I need, more of that. So last night I took one of my precious stash of Xanax and it helped. My thoughts were not cold, hard, empty things. I let myself flow with the samba. I went back to bed at eight last night. I get up about every hour or so to pee and drink water. At midnight, I was hurting, so I got up to take more Tylenol and put on a t.v. show. Back to bed an hour later. That is my life at present. I sweat through my clothes and have to change every few hours. But today, perhaps, I will feel well enough to get a Covid test. Why do I need a fucking Covid test? It won't make me feel better. They will do nothing more than tell my I have Covid. There will be no magic drug. They are not going to give me stronger pain medicine. But that is what it seems people want. "You have to get a Covid test!" I don't get it. My friends did and have Covid. We have the same symptoms. It seems a miserable struggle to get into the car, drive to the testing center, sit in line, etc. My nerves are shot. I can tell you that. Today feels like another day of sleep. Maybe not as much. Perhaps I'll sit up a little more. I'm coughing less. And I sure have moved some water through my body. I hate water. I don't like it at all. But I have drunk it gallon after gallon. O.K. Maybe quart after quart.
The good news is my mother seems to be o.k. Still. . . she needs to be tested!
That's all I can do. Typing wears me out. I wish I had food to eat. Bread would be good. Crackers. My house is always barren of food. I have water. I need bread. Bread and water.
Post a Comment