My Covid Experience

Blog: My Covid experience 2022-08-14

    During the pandemic in the past two and half years, I had many trips within the States and overseas. 

    I had been fully vaccinated since early 2021 and had two buster shots accordingly.

    But returning to the States was a pain in the neck. I had to be at the airport six hours ahead of the scheduled departure time because a PCR test had to be performed at the airport. By the time I visited Norway in early July PCR test requirement returning to the States was lifted. It was less stressful.

    I didn't stop traveling. I won't allow my life to be hijacked by the Covid.

    I felt that as long as I took all the cautions, it was unlikely I could get sick.

    Reality proved to be the case until now.

    Late afternoon of Sunday 8/7, I had a mysterious sickness, a sore throat, cold sweat, and couldn't even stand up much. Throughout the night, I was sleepless with my heart pounding. I thought I got Covid. But the test I took was negative. I felt weak and lay in bed helplessly. Thinking if it was ever going to be all right. My mind didn’t rest.

    My fever went over 101, and my heart rate jumped over normal by more than 60%. I felt it was like the end of the world.

    It was eight days after I returned home from the Northwest tour with my brother Jim and his wife.

    I did the second test the next afternoon. It was positive.

    Ha, I have Covid.

    High-dose vitamin C, water, and soymilk.

    Helplessly lying down, sitting up became difficult, and I was disabled.

    Thank modern technology, I could communicate. Later afternoon, with so much effort, I called my doctor’s office to ask for a Zoom meeting scheduled at 8 am the next day. My son, doctor Lei Chen, suggested that I take paxlovid, which required starting within five days after the symptoms appeared. If the situation stays like Monday, I need medication.

    Somehow I slept, slept, and slept, hydrating with any fluid available - mainly water, soymilk, and yogurt.

    Thank goodness I slept well through the night with a couple of times for the bathroom.

    Tuesday morning, I felt much better, with no fever. But ache and fatigue were still present. In the Zoom meeting, the doctor suggested I wait for one more day to see whether my situation improved or worsened and then decide if the medication is necessary. I thought it was a reasonable arrangement. Tuesday turned out to get me improved - the fever lowered to 100. Less nauseated. But my throat was still scratchy, and my cough got worse.

    I assessed that I was in a typical passage toward recovery. I cooked lunch for myself. And lay down most of the time on Tuesday. I felt almost normal. My fever was 99.4, and I worked on my taxes and so on. Hopefully, despite the symptoms that looked lingering for a while, my nightmare will be over soon.

    The fifth day of 8/11 in the afternoon, I felt everything was normal and had more energy than the previous day, although still not as well as before my sickness. I resumed normal activities - taking care of my yard, and trash, and cleaning my rooms.

    It wasn’t over yet. I need to wait to turn negative.

    But the question puzzling me is how, when, and where possibly I could have gotten this illness.

    I came home from the northwest tour on 7/30 Saturday night with an Uber driver who didn’t have a mask on and talked during the whole journey. The following few days, I participated in Zumba and the line dance indoors without a mask.

    Soon I got bad news. 

    My niece Ling in the Bay Area had planned to visit me - they wanted to have fun in those amusement parks here - for her family's summer brick. My home was a natural choice they had. About two weeks ago, they had a situation.

    First, their two 10-year old got positive with various symptoms from vomiting to high fevers. The father took good care of them and joined the positive group a few days after their kids’ illness. When I learned about this, I was thinking, all right they can’t come. The following information I received made their trip even less promising. The younger girl of 6 years became positive on Thursday 8/4th. The only person in the family who had not gotten sick was my niece Ling. Omicron was really contagious.

    Leaving my worry about their visit behind, I carried on with my usual activities. On Friday, I went for Zumba, Saturday morning Tai Chi class and the late afternoon writing class party at Susan’s home, and finally, a Sunday Tai chi class. Except at the party, I hardly exchanged words with anyone and only focused on doing whatever I was supposed to do.

    The party lasted more than four hours. Around 8:30 with everyone, I left for home.

    Then the mysterious sickness hit me like a big blow. It was Sunday afternoon on 8/7, a week and one day after I returned from the trip. I had no personal contact with anyone. Who knows how I got sick? From whom and where? I have been in Zumba and line dancing for a few months. I wonder what I should do after this episode. Unusually 3-5 days of incubation period before the symptoms manifest themselves. Am I right? Unlikely it was from the Uber driver. Or the worst - I have close contacts to the writing class? That could be bad. Most participants were seniors.

    The good thing was I didn’t need medication, but I suffered from aches, fevers, and other usual stuff. Four days after a bit of cough and fever were still lingering. My doctor told me my case was mild, and after five days I could take a test.

    I am going to wait since my niece told me about her experience and the information she got from Google. Her family members didn’t return to negative in less than 10 days. Eleven days after the little one was still positive, Her husband refused to take a test before 12 days, and then it was negative.

    Don’t know when the test will be negative. I don’t care. Everything will take its natural course.

    I am blessed to have my life back, and I swear I will not stop living, especially traveling.

My experiences with Covid - 19

The photo above was taken during the most recent trip to the States' northwest. Since I didn’t feel my life experience during the pandemic was interesting enough to others, I have not written much. Even though I never stopped traveling, not because I loved it but also because my relationship with my family required me to do so. I traveled to my son’s family in Connecticut in the summer of 2020, one of the spike periods of the spreading of Covid. The KN95 mask was used during the traveling time from door to door. Right after I arrived, I washed my hands thoroughly.

In the following two years, I had multiple trips to the States with my family, from southwest national parks and natural wonders to visiting friends in Colorado. From my brother's home in Florida to Minnesota, where my niece Jenny's family lived. From my son Lei's place in the northeast of New England to San Diego, and Yosemite to the Sierra Nevada. And many more places.

At the end of 2021, when Australia allowed direct relatives to visit, I didn't hesitate to go to Sydney for my younger son and his family. It had been close to two years since the last time I came back in January 2020. I had been fully vaccinated since early 2021 and had two buster shots accordingly. But returning to the States was a pain in the neck. I had to be at the airport six hours ahead of the scheduled departure time because a PCR test had to be performed at the airport.

By the time I visited Norway in early July PCR test requirement returning to the States was lifted. It was less stressful. I couldn't stop traveling because I refused to let my life be hijacked by the Covid. I felt that as long as I took all the cautions, the chance of getting sick wasn’t that high.

The fact proved to be the case until now.

Late afternoon of Sunday 8/7, I had a mysterious sickness, a sore throat, cold sweat, and couldn't even stand up much. Through the night, I couldn’t sleep with my heart pounding. I thought I got Covid. But the test I took was negative. I felt weak and lay on bed helplessly. Thinking if it was ever going to be all right. My mind couldn't rest.

My fever went over 101, and my heart rate jumped over normal by more than 60%. I felt it was like the end of the world. It was eight days after I returned home from the Northwest tour with my brother Jim and his wife. I did the second test the next afternoon. It was positive. Ha, I have Covid.

High-dose vitamin C, water, and soy milk. And lay down. Later on with so much effort, I was bearly able to call my doctor’s office to ask for a Zoom meeting scheduled at 8 am the next day. My son, doctor Lei Chen, suggested that I take paxlovid which required taking within five days after the symptoms appeared. If the situation stayed like Monday, I need medication. Somehow I slept, slept, and slept, hydrating with any fluid available - mainly water, soymilk, and yogurt. Thank goodness I slept well through the night with a couple of times for the bathroom.

Tuesday morning, I felt much better, with no fever. But ache and fatigue were still present. After talking to the doctor, he suggested I wait for one more day to see if my situation improved or worsened and then decide if the medication is necessary. I thought it was a reasonable arrangement. I cooked lunch for myself. And lay down most of the time. Tuesday afternoon turned out to get me improved - the fever lowered to 100. Less nauseated. But my throat was still scratchy, and my cough got worse. My assessment was that I was in a typical passage toward recovery.

The fourth day I felt almost normal. My fever was 99.4, and I did some work on my taxes and so on. Hopefully, despite the symptoms that looked lingering for a while, my nightmare will be over soon. Next day, Thursday, 8/11, I felt everything was normal and had more energy than yesterday, although still not as well as before my sickness. I resumed normal activities - taking care of my yard, trash, and cleaning my rooms.

But the question puzzling me is how, when and where possible I could have gotten this illness. I came home from the northwest tour on 7/30 Saturday night with a Uber driver who didn’t have a mask on and talked all the way. The following week, I participated in Zumba and the line dance indoors without a mask. 8/7, a week and one day after I returned from the trip Sunday afternoon, I became sick. I had no personal contact with anyone. Who knows how I got sick? From whom and where? I have been in Zumba and line dancing for a few months. I wonder what I should do after this episode. Unusually 3-5 days of incubation period before the symptoms manifest themselves. Am I right? Unlikely it was from the Uber driver. Good thing was I didn’t need medication, but I suffered from aches, fevers, and other usual stuff. Now a bit of cough and fever are still lingering. My doctor told me my case was mild, and after five days I could take a test. I am going to wait for seven days.

Don’t know when the test will be negative. I don’t care. Everything will take its natural course. I am blessed to have my life back, and I swear I will not stop living, especially traveling.

Note: I have no way to formet my blogger wwell since I didn't want to use other apps. To make reading the blog easie, I randomly inserted photos from photos I had taken in the past. Sorry for the tacky way.

The first shot - experience of my vaccination

 Covid-19 Vaccine Shot Experience

Each county in California has its own way to handle inoculating the vaccines.

Here we are talking about my senior friends.

My classmate in the Valley registered in LA County and had choices of various places either for Pfizer or Moderna. My classmate picked Moderna and got his shot in Dodger Stadium. Based on his experience, getting the shot wasn’t very stressful. After getting off the freeway he followed the signs and got to the right place. People stayed in the cars on different lines for different booths where they got shots while they stayed in the cars. Altogether, from the time to be on the surface street to the time he got his shot was about 40 minutes.

My friend, who and her husband were my Caltech acquaintances, registered the vaccine in San Diego County, where is her current address. Their appointments were scheduled on February 18^th– three weeks away.

Since I found number of sites one could sign up for covid vaccines I became suspicious worrying if those sites wanted some personal information, until a friend told me to check government site then I registered on the Orange County website via Othena on January 19^th, and my status online was updated into a waiting room three days later. On the evening of January 29^thwhen I checked emails I found I could schedule a shot for the following two days at two super-pot areas – the Disneyland parking lot and Soka University in Aliso Viejo for Moderna and Pfizer vaccines respectively. I really didn’t mind which one I get but thinking it might be a nightmare in the Disneyland site, which is huge and could wait for a long time. I don’t want to expose to a mass gathering for a long time. So I signed up for the Soka site. After checking the map, I realized it was much farther than Disneyland. Talked with my classmate in the Valley who had the shot a few days earlier, and he told me I should not worry about waiting time. From his experience, big sites didn’t have a disadvantage. The situation nowadays has been improved unlike the very beginning in the middle of January when the inoculation of the vaccines just started. Why should I drive so much farther? So I rechecked and found it was easy to reschedule. Finally I settled on an appointment for 1/31 at 2:15 in the Disneyland parking lot.

Sunday1:55 pm I left home and got to the site in less than 15 minutes, but when I pulled in at the entrance, I was told I needed to go around to get on the right side of the street to pull in on Katella Avenue. It wasn't hard, but it was unlike Dodger site, I needed to park the car and get out.

Then many checkpoints to check body temperature, verify the scheduled appointment, and your ID, and answer a series of questions, which went orderly. 

Finally, there was a line to wait to get a booth where incarnations took place.

At the time I got the shot all the information entered the system and I was told to have the second shot in four weeks and I needed to wait for 15 minutes to see if there was any unusual reaction I was sure it should be no problem, but obeyed the order I sit in a char in the open area before returning to my car. It was 2:55 pm.

I appreciated the good Internet site to sign on to, and more so towards the people working at the site to help put.

Expecting the wide inoculation of vaccines, more or less a normal life will be resumed or me, in our country and the world.

 

A Stress Echo Test 02/20/2020

02/20/2020 a torture or what

Staring up the ceiling in a small, cramped room, cold as an igloo, I lie down on a half reclined bench while the dimmed fluoresce lights shining on my face. While my empty belly was groaning, with only a thin medical gown, my aging skinny body was shivering. In the warm spring day of So Call, I wished I could have been outside enjoying the blue sky, fresh air and full of sunshine.

How can I end up in this miserable place?

In the past, contacting medical facilities had been my rare occurrences not because illnesses had hardly visited me but mainly I trusted more in body self regulating mechanisms than most medications and other treatments. It didn’t mean I’d refuse necessary procedures, especially in emergent situations. Also preventive measures, diagnose tests, and regular physical all were beneficial. Nevertheless, I would obtain a second or even third opinion before a treatment.

However, a recent mysterious illness proved me over optimistic.

During last year’s Thanksgiving when I stayed with my son Lei’s family in Connecticut, after being in freezing cold field too long without enough warm clothes, I developed a worst illness in years. With my stupidity and over-confidence, as usual, I thought I could fight it, so I didn't even mention to anyone. Unfortunately, my symptoms turned bad to worse. Only when a high fever put me in bed and thick blood discharge from my throat appeared, then I informed my doctor son, who gave me antibiotics right away. A few days later I returned home with no obvious discomfort.

Somehow, when I resumed my physical activities I felt short breath and my usual jogging became difficult. In a doctor visit, when I explained my unpleasant experience, he listened to my lung and heart, and then said, “fortunately due to your son’s medication, you look all right. But for cautions you should have a chest X-ray.”

However, before my doctor could go over the result with me, I took off for a long trip to Australia where my son Yan was getting married. For a mother, nothing could be more important than her children’s needs.

Over there I took it easy and rested well, then my doctor’s email came, “the x-ray showed linear atelectasis in the lingual.”

Of course I had no idea what it meant.

Google it. I was shocked. Part of my lung collapsed, as a sponge, squished together, lost elasticity.

I emailed my nurse stepdaughter and she replied, “Oh, it’s bad and requires treatment. See a doctor ASAP who might suggest oxygen, or just deep breath, depend on its severity.” But I had no health insurance in Australia.

Easy, just deep breathes then.

After a month I came back home and hopped everything going normal, but the short breath stubbornly persisted. I didn't know if it was just psyche or a real problem, moreover, many choirs back home put this on a back burner.

Recent Covid-19 epidemic reminded me that I ought to put my health first and I desired to get to the bottom of the issue.

For an unknown reason, somehow my primary doctor was not easy to visit; often I waited for weeks. Not wanting to put off any longer I rather visited any doctor available right away.

A few days earlier I went to Dr. Morrison, who was a senior and tall guy. It turned out the random doctor was not only attentive but also efficient.

After a short check he ordered a new chest x-ray and EKG test. Less than 10 minutes, a technician came to perform the EKG.

A minute after, Dr. Morrison came in to look at the EKG chat, pointing at a sharp spike, he said, “look, this peak indicates some problem.”

“What?” I had no clue.

“Normally, the height should be 2-step, but yours is over 6. It could mean the thickening of left muscle of your heart.”

“Oh, oh,” I said.

“We are not sure about it though,” he continued, “since we have no previous chart to compare with. To be safe, you need a stress echo right away.”

That eased my worry a bit.

The second day I made calls. Most facilities I phoned had only openings in March, at least 3 weeks away. Finally a schedule squeezed me in for the next day at Saint Jude Medical Center.

Following the instruction that I should have fastened, based on the fact that I could hardly miss any meal because my body required fuel constantly, in previous evening I had a huge meal after our evening class ended after 9:30 pm.

This morning I didn't have any food except a cup of water. Punctually, I arrived at 8:45, 15 minutes before the scheduled time. The receptionist was warm and kind, may have had enough coffee, checked me in. But before I could go into the test room, I filled many forms with a dozen of signatures and initials.

Do I have to read each line of each page? No, I told myself.

A young technician, George, led me into a room, where I changed into a very thin gown, and waited in the small cramped place, full of equipment and medical supplies, more like storage. Following his instruction I lie down on a reclined bench.

“Hey, it's too cold,” I complained; the temperature was set at 65, I guessed.

“I am sorry,” he said with a curtsey, “we have no control.”

Next he took my blood pressure. Somehow when the gadget would not register, he said, “For an unknown reason, sometimes the machine doesn't work. Lets try the other arm.”

Finally, the machine gave out the number 182/72.

“I never had such kind of blood pressure before,” I cried out.

“Well, that is it.”

Shortly afterwards he started the procedure, greasing cold sticky gel on my chest and then sticking on the electrical sensors.

While the ultra-sound probe traced at various spots on my skin, twinkling, and chill were all I felt.

He added more gels and took several rounds.

The cold gel made my body even colder, so I tensed up and felt the time ticked slowly as if the process lasted forever.

“Do you see all four chambers?” I asked with a shaky voice, trying to diverse my attention.

“Yes,” he said, “I can show you.” He turned the screen towards me.

“Wow,” I was amazed, viewing my heart pumping and four sections were clearly visible.

“Do you just take stationary photos?” I asked again.

“Actually I mainly take motion shots,” he explained with patience, “Later on when you are on stress test, more motion shots taken can compare with those.

Looking at my watch, I realized this procedure took about twenty minutes. Very long.

“We need an EKG machine set up here,” he said, pointing the right of the room, full of stuff, before he disappeared.

Now my gown had wet spots, touching my bare chest, and you can image how much agony I was enduring.

Lifting the wet part of my gown and folded upwards that made a space between the wet part and my skin was all I could ease my suffering. Nevertheless, I started to shiver and my tooth clicking was annoying, but I just couldn't help it.

A worker pushed a machine to the door and then he moved my bench away before setting up the EKG.

“I am shivering,” I told him.

“Ok, I’ll tell George to get some blankets for you.”

 After the machine was up he left and shortly George returned with a white blanket.

That was better.

“When can we start the stress test?” I asked.

“Sorry, we can't do it right away, Meanwhile, you have to wait patiently.”

“No. No waiting please,” I begged, “It’s ten O’clock already. You know I didn't eat since last night. I am cold, and worse is I am starving.”

“I know, the test requires fasting, but we are waiting for a doctor to come then we can start.”

I recall the last time I had echo tests, which was like more than 20 years earlier when I worked at Caltech and it had only taken total 20 minutes. What a change.

“We don’t need a doctor. I am sure you know how to do it,” I cried loudly.

“No, we can’t, have to follow the protocol. Stress echo tests require a physician present,” George said firmly.

“I can sign to waive your liability, please.”

“Are you kidding? No such a form to sign. Be patient. I’ll find out why the doctor didn't show.” He softened the tone and left.

That was the time I stared at the ceiling and cold, hungry, really miserable.

“Take a deep breath,” I told to myself, “calm down, no point to be upset.” But rationality and emotions are not always in the same frequency.

A warm blanket on my freezing body eased a bit of the pain, but my stomach complained louder and louder, and I could feel my head get lighter and lighter. “I want to cry out,” I murmured.

When George came back, I said, “could you speed the process, please, I'm going to faint from the starvation.”

“Sorry, I am really sorry for the delay,” he said, “We have only one cardiologists assigned to echo tests, and unfortunately he is tied up in the emergency room, so nothing we can do but wait.” After a short pause, he continued, “I can tell it became a torture for you instead of just a simple test. I’ll see what else I can do to help.”

“Yes, George,” I said, “I know there is nothing you can do. Thanks for your kindness.”

He left the room and I was alone waiting timelessly.

I didn't know how long I could stay awake, so I pinched my arms and talked to myself. It had been more than two hours since I checked in, but end of the test seemed so far. So tires, I closed my eyes, taking deep breathes, counting numbers, and try to be patient.

When George returned, waving a small card to me said, “Right after the test, you can go to the cafeteria for a full meal. Here is a ticket I got for you.”

“Thanks. But you didn’t have to do that.” So nice of him, not because I lacked money, his empathy really eased my pain and anxiety. I could tell my breathing easier, my heart pounding slower.

It seemed waiting for eternity, time ticked slowly.

Any little commotion would rouse my attention from a half sleeping mode.

At last, three new people showed up.

In addition to George, a middle aged MD, a young blonde nurse, and a nurse assistant walked into the tiny space.

I let a long breath out.

“Let's check your blood pressure,” the nurse said.

“Again? It might be very high,” I said with worry.

“We will see.”

Definitely. Finally, the measurement was 192/90.

So high. Am I going to have a heart attack? I wondered but kept quiet.

George strapped my feet on paddles joined with the bench, and I started to work out.

“My usual purse was only 40s, “ I declared, “Like this morning, it was 45. It's not easy to raise my heart rate.”

“Let's find out,” the nurse said.

“Now you should pedal as fast as you can,” the MD said.

So I sped up the pedaling. Striking harder and harder, I hoped everything could be over soon, and then I could fill up my empty belly.

“You are not cold. Are you?” George said, “I am sure you’ll sweat soon.”

 “We supposed to see your rate up to 124,” the nurse announced.

“What rate is it right now?” I asked, paddling as faster and faster.

“At 92. You got to push harder.”

No wonder I felt my heart complaining, the rate was doubled.

A long way to go I told myself but my legs got sore.

“I have worked with 100% effort,” I announced.

”You doing well,” the MD said, “you can reach it, yes you can, try harder, try harder.”

I could tell my heart pounding so fast it made my vision blur, too much blood rushing to my head, I guessed.

I struggled as hard as I had ever had.

“Ok. You got it. Well done,” they cried out in unison.

I felt my heart could jump out of my throat any moment. I didn’t remember I had ever felt this way.

Thank goodness, it was over.

Strangely enough, I didn’t sweat, unlike they predicted, though I didn’t feel cold anymore.

Have lived 36 years in the states, I had visited clinics and hospitals a handful times where I tried hard to take the minimum either medications or treatments.

After one sleeping pill had put me sleeping for 48 hours I was extremely careful for any medications. Also, I have refused morphine to ease the pain when I had bone fractures. A very important lesson I learned was the patient should voice his or her preference and get what was suitable for an individual, because everyone was created differently.

I respect my doctor caring about my situation, I respect George taking his job seriously, trying to accommodate my needs, I appreciate the health system, taking good care of the patients and serving them well.

Meanwhile, I have been waiting for my doctor to discuss about my echo results, tell me what's wrong with me, if there is any, however, I'm sure I'm in good hands.