I didn’t sleep well. Of course, I didn’t. I felt a little shivery and my temperature was 37.9C. Mild but high nonetheless.
The tossing and turning of both mind and body was almost disturbing, as I began to contact trace in vain, after all I had been in contact with COVID patients all week. And then the magnification of anything that could be construed as symptoms began – my throat felt scratchy on Thursday morning but then again I had been on the phone talking for two hours the previous day. My head felt heavy throughout Sunday but then again I had shared a bottle of prosecco for dinner to nullify lockdown blues. Would the real day one, please stand up?
I had supportive seniors at work who were helping me through this and for that, I was grateful. There is nothing worse than being off sick despite not feeling that well and being compounded by guilt.
Today, my main aim was to get tested. The sooner I did, the sooner I could get back on the team. I was well enough otherwise… right?
The day felt slow. It was a blur.
It’s difficult to talk about what to eat for lunch or dinner when you have no sense of smell or taste. And that was the problem. My peanut butter sandwich tasted like nothing. The milk was a day old. I briefly forgot about my anosmia and foolishly smelt it and thought how no smell was a good sign. Had it not been for the milk congealing almost at the surface of my mug, I wouldn’t have known it was past it. The orange juice tasted like water. Hell, all fluids tasted like water.
Later that day, I tried a chocolate egg but I found myself relying on the memories of what food tasted like. Pizza gave the sensation that you were going to get thirstier soon but you didn’t know why. The texture of potato wedges when tasteless becomes off-putting, almost like polystyrene.
By late afternoon, I had become almost fearful of eating. I was hungry for sure, but the disappointment of having food that I know tastes good, being completely bland in my mouth was becoming unbearable. I started becoming almost avoidant, delaying dinner like a person with severe haemorrhoids tries to avoid going to the loo for that fear of making things worse.
By dinner time I had not received a call to be tested. This 100K a day testing was looking improbable. I chose to eat super noodles; I recall trying a packet a year ago and thinking how bland they were, so it was actually the best meal I’ve had in the last 24 hours – it felt as though I was eating something that tasted as it should.
Every few days... 