A Girl in the Trenches

I’m weak again and still not fully recovered.  My birthday is in mere days, then my anniversary seven days later.  I’m still weak and not doing well, we don’t have access to testing, and everything is rubbish.  I’m currently rewatching Sherlock and I was just reminded of what it’s like to die. Again. I realise no-one cares about how we feel, the survivors, but everyone else.  I still can’t watch hospital shows based on the sounds; once you’ve heard yourself flatline you never forget the sound.  It makes me scream in the night. And, no, therapy has never helped.  There are exclusions to every offer.

This is not what you expect. It’s probably not even what you want. But right now, I’m honestly too tired to care. I am (slowly) recovering from covid-19, the incredibly awful, painful virus caused by the novel coronavirus.  It’s really not ideal. I spent weeks begging for anyone in my area to test me. I called and begged Emergency Rooms in my area to treat me. I had paperwork from my physician stating that I was “presumed covid” and also “high risk” for dangerous and life-ending complications. No one would see me. I was told multiple  times that I would NOT be allowed in hospital on the US side of the border in NY State (where I’m currently located).  I was even told I’d be escorted off the property of any hospital should I turn up with covid symptoms. As a result I spent days progressively gasping harder just to survive. Now, I’m no prudish, prim princess when it comes to pain, misery, endurance, and sheer bitchy willpower to live regardless of ANY situation....