My experience with breakthrough Covid. A lesson in humility.

Thursday I turned 59. My birthday present this year was a positive test result for Covid.

I started to get a headache the last hour of my shift on Wednesday. I dismissed it as not having enough coffee. I noticed too that my throat was a little sore. I told my coworker we had been yacking so much my vocal chords were strained.

I wondered if I was getting sick. I doubted it. At the beginning of lockdown, I had felt rundown several times and was paranoid I had Covid. But the feeling always passed within the day. I realized this Covid business had made me so hyper alert to any quirky pain that I was quickly becoming a hypochondriac.

In the 18-plus months since the initial lockdown, I and my family had avoided the dreaded Covid.  When the vaccines became available to health workers, I jumped at the chance. I was looking forward to being around my 84-year-old mother without guilt.

Originally, the vaccines were to greatly decrease your chance of serious disease, being hospitalized or dying. As it turned out, the vaccines proved even more effective than anticipated. Very few who had been vaccinated were contracting the illness.

Epidemiologists urged everyone to get vaccines as soon as they were eligible. If the majority of the population were vaccinated, it would mitigate the risk of the virus mutating and we could get to the other side of this thing and back to life. They were not sure if the vaccines would have the same efficacy against future variants.

By summer cases had dropped significantly. I think people, including myself, thought Covid would be old news. I had obsessively checked the Minnesota Public Health for daily updates on number of positive cases in our county. By mid summer, numbers were in the single digits. There were even days when zero positive cases were recorded.

I had been cavalier from the beginning. I am embarrassed to say I confidently proclaimed Covid was wildly overblown. I wasn’t scared.

But then Delta emerged as a new variant. Cases began to rise again and the vaccines were becoming less efficient in preventing breakthrough cases. Still the data showed the vaccines were effective in decreasing severity and length of illness. In other words, they were keeping people out of the hospital and dying. I had developed a healthy respect for the virus, but I felt I wasn’t at risk. I have no underlying health problems. I’d like to lose a few pounds, but I didn’t think I was at an unhealthy weight.

So, when I got home last Wednesday with the start of a fever and a continued sharp headache, I wasn’t that concerned. I didn't have Covid. I had been vaccinated. But, I called in to work for the next day, just so I wouldn’t pass on any other bug I might have.

Through the night my symptoms worsened. My fever had me alternating between shivering and changing nightgowns from drenching sweat. The only thing that gave me relief was soaking in a hot bath. I took three long baths through the night.

I got tested the next morning, my birthday. As I waited through the day for results, I told myself my chances for being negative were 92 percent. The daily positively rate was 8 percent. I was sure I’d be in the 92 percent, even though by this time my symptoms were continuinally worsening—a terrible pressure headache, sore throat, stuffy nose, body aches, and fever. But I still had my sense of taste and smell.

It wasn’t until 8:00 I finally saw the result. 

SARS CoV-2 RNA, PCR  - Detected

I had Covid. No way. I guess I shouldn't have been shocked, but I was. I had no idea where I had picked it up. I hadn't been around very many people, other than work and we all wear masks and socially distance. 

I was humbled by being wrong in my previous convictions. I wasn’t invincible after all. I got sick despite being vaccinated. I didn’t want to share the information publicly for fear that it would further entrench people’s positions that vaccines don’t work.  Well, they hadn’t worked for me in not getting infected, but I felt pretty strongly they’d keep me from getting severely sick.

I received a call the next day from Employee Health and Minnesota Public Health. I was impressed by the streamlined process of reporting and communication. Every single person I talked to was courteous, kind, and compassionate. I wondered how often they had to do this every day.

Even though I felt I would be fine, I was surprised by how sick I was. I hadn’t slept the night before. I had the classic Covid headache which has been described as a severe whole head pressure pain. But, just for a fun little twist, my teeth hurt. The kind of pain when you are desperate for a root canal. Maybe it was just an unhappy coincidence that I had a bad tooth. More likely, it was just another weapon in this bug’s arsenal. I was grossed out by the thought all this came from a dang bat. Not natural.

I received an e-mail that I was qualified for receiving monoclonal antibodies because I was in a higher risk group for serious infection. Linked was a video that was helpful in explaining the process and how the infusion worked. I called the number provided to get more information.. The nurse who answered my call was thorough in explaining the process and told me that the antibodies had been remarkably effective in decreasing the amount of time of recovery and greatly lowering the chances of becoming severely sick. It was only effective though if given while the symptoms were mild or moderate. If I began to have respiratory symptoms, it would be too late to be beneficial.

I was curious why I was considered high risk. She said the only thing she could see was that I was just slightly over the BMI. I actually weighed less than I had when my weight had been recorded at my last doctor’s appointment. I probably was in the BMI parameters, but I wasn’t arguing. I was more than ready to sign up. Bring on the antibodies. I wanted to get this thing over with as soon as possible. The nurse ended the conversation assuring me that because I had been vaccinated my chances were greatly improved for a good outcome.

I was instructed that when I arrived to the appointment to stay in my car and call the number to be let into the building. The nurse who answered asked how I was walking. I wondered why she’d be asking, but thought it was standard protocol to see if I were a fall risk. I told her I could walk fine. She told me she’d meet me at the door.

From there, every nurse with whom I interacted was exceptional. Each was very kind, empathetic, and patient in explaining the process and answering my questions. One nurse said they saw a remarkable difference in how sick people became. The difference being the vaccinated walked into the building on their own accord. The unvaccinated were often so weak they couldn’t stand and had to be wheeled in. Thus the question about whether I could walk, I guess. She said that the Covid ICU was full of patients, almost entirely unvaccinated. 

The staff seemed genuinely sad about how sick these patients became. I heard from several they did not judge people’s opinions. One of the nurses said it was humbling. None of us has the answers. It’s prideful to think that we do.

That resonated with me. I had waffled on my position on the seriousness of the pandemic from the beginning… even saying before it arrived in the US that it would be a nothing burger. I had gone back and forth from being paranoid to thinking it was wildly overblown, often being very vocal in sharing my opinions.

I realize how incredibly lucky I was not to have gotten Covid last year, before I was vaccinated and treatments were still being developed. My symptoms were on par with the worst case of flu I’ve ever had. I was miserable with Covid, but I never had life-threatening symptoms. The virus didn’t reach my lungs where the real damage is done.  

The infusion lasted 20 minutes. I was to stay another hour to make sure that I had no reaction.

The nurse who removed my port said I would be feeling much improved in the next day or so. After she removed the port, she shook her head, “This Covid. It’s been a long road.” Then she smiled, “We’ll get through it.”

The nurses who helped me were an example of grace, humility and compassion.  As the nurse walked me to the door, I asked when her shift was over.  She said that normally they would be done, but it was critical to infuse patients early on. They were continuing appointments into the evening and had a full Saturday.

I didn’t bound out of bed the next day completely recovered like I optimistically thought I would. I had another day of on-and-off fevers and nausea. Today I am weak from being in bed for four days and have a lingering headache, but I feel much improved. The fever, nausea and body aches are gone. I still need to isolate in the house for the next week and stay away from Dave. I think we're already getting a little cagey.

I have been humbled. I’m done making judgments on how this virus is being managed. Despite our biases one way or another, I believe people’s intentions are good. I am grateful to live here and I appreciate the access to excellent medical care. Has the pandemic been handled perfectly? Of course not. Humans will never get it perfectly right. Mistakes were made early on and messaging may not have been the best, but this has been an overwhelming burden to those who are leading the fight against it. We've come a long way in learning how to treat it. 

I hope I can exhibit the grace that was extended to me.

I haven't posted in this "Older than 50 but Younger than Dirt" blog for quite a while. Next year, the title will no longer apply. I'll be 60--closer to the dirt side I would think.