Remember me?……

Shame! Shame! Shame! I feel like Cersei taking that embarrassing walk in Game of Thrones. Over the past few years, life as we know it has changed. And because of that, my writing inspiration hit rock bottom. My focus turned to, basically, staying alive. With certain health conditions that I have, getting COVID could have killed me.

It’s taken a while (and a few vaccinations) to even get comfortable to resume my “regular” routine. Doctors gave me the okay to go back to work part time, as long as I didn’t go overboard and stayed safe. Things were rolling smoothly as they possibly could and I was pleased to be comfortable in the world’s new normal. My favorite activities were open again, holidays were spent with family and I was in my social element being back out with the general public. My mental health improved without that feeling of confinement, seclusion and depression hanging over my head. I thought I had turned the corner.

Then we welcomed in 2022. Bright future ahead, right? Not really. COVID went into a new strain that was more contagious. The only positive was that if you had your shots, especially for us autoimmunies, the severity would be less dangerous. Winter started out okay but by the end of the March, I felt like ass. Something hit me hard and I couldn’t eat. Like anything. If I got a Jello or ice cream down, it was a good day. But I watched the pounds just fall off me. I was weak, depressed again, low self confidence and very emotional. I worked hard on my health for years… and it was gone in 3 weeks. I was thinner than I was in high school. And that’s not good. It lowers my resistance to diseases and that puts me in a compromising position.

So while drs tried to figure out what was going on with my stomach, I took a fall (unstable from being weak) and fell on a storage tote and broke a rib. Holy shit, that HURTS. It hurt to breathe and my ribs made popping noises frequently. Sleeping was near impossible. That took me out of work—and the outside world—for 4 weeks. *sigh* Here we go again. I did everything the doctors said and by about 3+ weeks, I could sneeze without fainting from pain. I was increasing my stamina, but my stomach was still holding me back. I was able to eat enough to maintain the weight I was at. I just needed to get the missing 15 pounds I lost.

Just when my drs found a medication to help with my stomach, I came down with a simple cold. Or so I thought. After 2 days of head congestion, a cough and a slight fever, I figured I better do a home COVID test. That indicator turned dark purple. I tested positive. I called my doctor who immediately sent in a request for me to receive monoclonal antibodies the next day. The procedure was quick and easy. Now came the waiting game. They said I should feel better in 24-48 hrs. My time was 36 hrs and I felt like a different person. Not only did it fight off COVID, but it “fixed” my stomach issue as well. I’m happy to say I’m now only about 6 lbs from my target weight. Yay me!!

Before COVID, I wrote an article for my local arts paper. I explained how I realized a lot of things weren’t the same anymore. Employment, hours, prices, kindness, manners. Things I thought were a given. I probably could have come back to writing sooner, but I just didn’t want to. No other reason. It wasn’t in me. No inspiration. No beauty trends. The struggle WAS real. But I’m good now. I feel a lot better. Better than I even did before the pandemic. I see that I am ok and will be. Strong and fierce, just like the wrist tattoos say. And I’m resilient. Damn resilient. So don’t fucking try me or my health. The odds are not on your side.

So let’s do this my friends. Let’s get the party started…. AGAIN!!