8 Weeks In - Plateau

Me with my warmies.

Today marks the end of 8 weeks since I first began experiencing symptoms of Covid-19.
I haven't checked in here for a couple of weeks because there hasn't been anything new to say.  It seems that on my journey from mostly recovered to fully recovered, I have come to a plateau.  Each day feels the same.  I get up, thinking that this'll be the day/week I'm going to get better.  I make my bed, take my shower, feed the cat, and then I lie down and rest before I muster the energy to make my bowl of cereal.  Or I eat the cereal and then lie down and rest.  Sometimes I'm able to sit in a chair on my front stoop and drink my cup of tea in the sun.  Each day I decide on things I'm going to do, and rarely do I get to any of them because there is. no. energy.

I was so excited the day that my doctor's office said I could start building strength by taking five minute walks and then adding five minutes each day.  I took the first one on a Thursday.  On Friday I didn't have enough energy for a walk, and on Saturday I had to lie down all day to rest.  It wasn't causal - one 5 minute walk didn't wipe me out for two days; it's just the progress of this virus.  About a week after that first walk, I was ready to take another 5 minute walk.  Since then I've been able to build gradually, carefully listening to my body.  Instead of jumping from 5 to 10 minutes, I went to 7 and then 8.  Now I'm up to a 12 minute walk and grateful for it.  (I read a great article today from MedPage Today that helped me feel not so alone in this and taught me a new word:  sequelae - a condition which is the consequence of a previous injury or disease.  You can read the article HERE.)

This is the stage where I've run out of wisdom and patience.  I'm frustrated and irritable and restless - usually signs of returning health, but still no energy.  When my bishop wisely directed me again this week not to return to work, I was ready to rebel.  Even as I grumbled, I recognized that she was right.  The spirit is willing, but the flesh is still very weak.  I long to return to helping with the Sunday live-stream and making liturgical videos and facilitating groups and making pastoral calls, but I can feel that I don't have the energy to sustain the work.  I'm mad and sad and so sick of being weak and  tired.

The only puzzle I had - but it was fun!

All over again, I have to surrender. I am powerless over my disease, and my job right now is taking care of my health.  And that means accepting that time takes time and full recovery is going to take the time it's going to take.  So I've finished a puzzle, watched many episodes of Little House on the Prairie, attended Facebook Live Indigo Girls Concerts, participated in a Giving Day for SpiritWorks, received some lovely flowers and cards and emails, and thought about doing many things.  Until today I haven't even had energy for another blog post!

Tonight I listened to the Indigo Girls play their Album Rites of Passage live.  One of the songs toward the end, one I haven't listened to in a long time, was "Let It Be Me." The lyric, "When the world is night, shine my life like a light," really sank in.  That's my prayer tonight.  That God will shine my life like a light, even though I'm unable to do very much right now.

But friends, and I hesitate to say this too loudly, yesterday afternoon a little energy returned.  And today, I only needed to lie down for one period of time.  So no rejoicing yet, because I've been here before and a new fatigue wave always comes, but I am left with hope as I head to sleep.  Perhaps, perhaps in week 9, I will kick COVID's butt!  Stay tuned...