This is the first day in more than a week that I have been motivated to think. My wife and I have COVID, identified Wednesday morning but probably resident within us for 3 or 4 days before that. The Wednesday before we had been tested because we were sick. I had a bacterial sinus infection and my wife had a non-COVID viral infection. I had heard that these associated bacterial infections were common, and I think it is the worse part of my sickness and symptoms.
Being nearly 62, but in relatively good health, the thing that has surprised me the most is how this disease zapped my motivation. I am highly motivated, though not Type A Business motivated. If there is something that I want to do or see that I need to do, I usually spend inordinate amounts of mental and physical energy accomplishing the task. But several days ago I was lying in bed and managed only one coherent thought. I was only motivated to do two things: breath and lay down. Sleep followed for 15 to 16 hours a day, but when I had to get up it was with much labor and the first thing that I wanted to do was lay down again. I certainly did not want to eat and even small amounts of food nauseated me. I didn’t want to start a fire, though I managed to twice in every 24 hours. I think that I did that for my wife, though it may have brought me significant benefit. I was forced to be upright, take on bracing fresh air, exert myself to carry in two loads of wood, and remain in front of the stove long enough for it to heat up so that I could close the damper. Then I went and lay down again and promptly fell asleep.
I have began to reflect on whether this is the sickest that I have ever been. The answer is a definite “no”. I will not recount my numerous sicknesses over 62 years, but I will quickly relate what seemed like the most life threatening sickness at the time. When I was in the 10th grade, which would be the winter of 1976, I came down with a flu that had me in bed for a week. I had a fever of 104 degrees for 4 days. The only thought I can remember from that time was that my mother seemed worried in such a way that she wasn’t sure that I was going to survive. Besides being massively behind in school, the worse problem was that it reduced me to a literal 90 pound weakling. When I got back to school, I had difficulty walking up stairs. I waited for the bus to go home out by the double doors to the weight room. The football players were in Spring training. At first I watched, but slowly I began to lift a few weights. Many of the athletes were my friends and seemed pleased that I was willing to try their strong suit. In a year and a half I went from being the weakest I ever was to probably the second strongest (must be a story for another day). About half way through that period of time, the basketball coach caught me lifting weights. I’m sure all kinds of liability specters danced before his eyes. A combination of much explanation, pleading, and his knowledge that I was an honorable student and person caused him to allow me to continue with restrictions, the most of which I was already following anyway.
Well, I have made it further mentally that I expected at first sitting, so I think that I will just go take a nap.