The title of this post was inspired by my research on the side effects of Prednisone. One of the side effects listed was "inappropriate happiness". I quietly laughed my ass off. Yes, please bring on the inappropriate happiness. I'll take it. I'm expecting something more in the neighborhood of anxiety and rage, but if inappropriate happiness is an option on the menu, I would much prefer to lean that way.
Yesterday was difficult. I woke up feeling and sounding rather stuffy...the sinuses are sometimes affected in addition to the lungs. Matters became worse as the day trudged on. I wasn't moving around a whole lot yesterday, it was a pretty chill day and I really wasn't outside at all in the earlier part of the day. At some point I developed the feeling that I was walking through a desert breathing sand. I had actually woken up wheezing so bad that I had to adminster 3 puffs from my rescue inhaler instead of the standard 2. The albuterol killed the wheezing, but I was still having difficulty breathing. I took an additional 2 puffs around 3:30, and then needed to take another single dose around 7:15 p.m. because I was wheezing again.
I made matters worse by insisting on going for a walk during the late afternoon. I was under a lot of distress, but, me being me, I was like, "I'll be damned if this is going to keep me from going for the walk that I planned!"
Well, I don't know if it was anxiety from the 3:45 p.m. walk, or that the wind is blowing and there's a lot of allergens flying about (or - probably all of this), but toward the end of a mile walk I was feeling super light-headed and having trouble breathing. So I had to steel myself to calmness, best as I could, and get my ass back to the house to strip off my clothes, take a hot shower and get seated next to my air purifier.
I was thinking about beer before I even started on the walk, but I took the attitude that no matter what happened afterward, I was going to get this damn walk done. Which I did, but the breathing issues and anxiety were probably not worth it.
This is what sucks. I don't like being caged like this. If I could turn back time, I would understand what an enormous asset I had a year ago in terms of health. I'm sure that all long covid people feel this way.
Well, I talked to the sponsor after the walk and it wasn't all that helpful because... kind as she is and awesome as she is... she does not understand this long covid thing. At that point I thought it might be realistic to just crawl in bed early, and that was kind of the plan. But. The distress levels were off the charts. And I am just not strong enough yet (will I ever be?) to resist the best anti-anxiety drug around.
I did go to Urgent Care first. Because inability to breath is distressing. I considered toughing it out, but my idea of hell is letting the problem get as worse as it can possibly get, and then trying to drive to urgent care while gasping for breath, trying to steer, coughing violentingly and throwing up. Which is what a really bad asthma attack would look like for me. For reference and for anyone new seeing this... I never had asthma before getting infected with covid. It's part of the long covid package for me.
I have an asthma appointment in a few days, but I wanted some oral steroids NOW. It went well. I couldn't believe how fast they checked me in and how incredibly kind they all were, especially the doctor.
I damn well knew it was going to happen, so I asked the pharmacist if I could have a few beers with this steroid. She doesn't recommend it. It's not going to cause an interaction, she says, but this is an immunosuppressant, so if there's other health things going on (aka long covid) it's not helpful. But I'm a person with this particular addiction problem who was riding a wave of extreme distress, so the minute she said "no (fatal) interactions" of course I latched onto that and ran with it. I did my best to moderate and consumed less than what I would normally have. I determined I would wait and have the steroid next day (today). I know some of my issue was anxiety, because after visiting urgent care the breathing problem was not as bad. And this is terrible but I woke up feeling better on the breathing front, no more sandy lungs, so I could swear that for all it's evils the poison calmed the system. I even sat outside journaling this morning in the sun and wind, another high pollen day, and I was absolutely fine. Aside from depression. I woke up somewhat suicidal. These new health conditions are very trying on a person's patience. By 11 p.m. last night I sat in my car alternating between jazz and classic rock radio stations and I talked to my imaginary friend, Aaron.
Yes, the loneliness has reached such a crest that I have an imaginary friend now. Aaron is quality. He's a good listener and he understands.
No breathing issues today, and I thought about pushing it off another day but ultimately I blended a smoothie and then downed the steroid. I'd really prefer not to enter another phase of sandy, restricted breathing and the associated psychosis-level anxiety. Really. Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way. And steroids take a while to reach peak performance, as we all know, so the sooner the better.
And I'm drinking beer again today, but I intend to once again moderate. I'm back to where I was at mentally in January - with long covid, there are days where I feel hungover anyway even though I have not had a single drink. So when you fall into the chasm you think "well okay why not grasp onto some relief". I know it's wrong, but that is where I am at right now. Imagine feeling hungover up to 45 percent of the time during some weeks, and all you did to earn this honor was contract covid-19 six months ago. So.
The one very good thing I have going right now is the long covid support groups that I created on nextdoor and meetup. THIS is the reason that I am living right now. Otherwise I might be tempted to drive my car off a bluff into the pacific ocean and say "goodbye cruel world".
I will provide space for these people. Provide a voice for these people. Provide love for these people. Let them talk it out. Let them tell their stories. Let them feel less alone. It means a lot more to me than AA right now in this moment based on where I am at and what I am experiencing....although I must give credit where it is due - the Christian concepts that I have learned over time in AA, despite that I am presently drinking beer - these morals and concepts are now deeply ingrained in me... the purity of this goodness now follows me everywhere I go, every single day. There has been a major shift. When I feel resentment popping up? I fight it. I don't lay down and let resentment or negative emotions run over me. When my negative emotions get the best of me? It has to be really, really bad. Like an asthma attack and health concerns. And even then, I fight it with all my might. If I die tomorrow, nothing was lost in attending AA. I have no negative feedback for the program. When I feel cynical and unstable? It's my problem. Not the program's problem.
Anyway... the long covid support group.... so far I have 3 members besides myself and a scheduled video meet. Before I began blogging today, I reached out to a representative at Washington Hospital Association. I reached out to the gal who runs the long covid page. I asked her to put my support group on her page, or at the very least plug it across the hospital association channels. This is where my experience as a recruiter will serve me well.
But. I don't do facebook or twitter. Haven't logged into linkedin in forever. Trying to market a niche group is rather difficult, event when you do have all the social media. One thing I have learned is that you must plant the initial seeds and then be patient. A few more people WILL join over the next 2 weeks, just on the promotions within nextdoor and meetup alone. For the rest? I have to continually re-post on nextdoor, cross promote on the other meetup group I own, print some flyers to distribute around town, and keep researching state and hospital resources and people I can get in touch with.
That's marketing. That's recruiting. Word of mouth, patience. I could set up facebook and twitter today.... but it would not make a goose's shit stack of difference because social media promos don't matter a whit if you don't already have a huge network. Whether you want to get out and talk to people, or try to build a social media network, it all takes time. Well, I have no interest in twitter or facebook. So I am going to have to attend a bunch of chruch services and talk to people, plus nail that flyer on every cork board I can find.
The fires blaze. I've been through hell. When I am not busy feeling depressed and suicidal, I am in fighter mode. I raise my sword up toward the sun and it glitters. Aaron stands by and approves.
On the way to the store today, I heard "Bullet with Butterfly Wings". The Pumpkins hit singles were never my favorites. For me, the true magic is (and always has been) contained within the deep cuts. The magic exists inside the 7 and 10 minute epic songs buried halfway in the mix, like for example "Porcelina of the Vast Oceans". However. When Bullet came on the radio today, it really hit my emotions because this is exactly where I am at mentally. I cranked this song up to maximum volume in my car. Something I have not done for ages. Right now I am a rat in a cage.
And now I present the iconic music video to this song:
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