4 Years Into the Pandemic, I Finally Got COVID-19

Miss 'Rona finally caught up to me.

In the era of COVID-19, I’ve been a model citizen. I’m one of those people who still wear masks on airplanes, wipe down their groceries, and get every booster shot. I usually don’t drive with other people, and my social life takes place almost exclusively outside.

Whenever there’s a sudden COVID-19 spike, and people talk about “going back” to their precautions, I shake my head. Going back? What do you mean? I never stopped.

Yet, somehow, I finally got COVID-19 four and a quarter years into the pandemic. So, what happened?

I’m high-risk—for two reasons.

When COVID-19 first debuted on US shores, my doctors warned me. I had to avoid it at all costs. I had pre-existing conditions that made me high-risk. You only needed one to end up on the CDC’s lists of people who might not make it. Me? I had have FOUR!

Over the past few years, I’ve been insanely careful. I still take all the precautions handed out to us in 2020, and several of my friends still do. Has this negatively impacted my life? Not really. Once you get used to doing something, it becomes a routine.

After all, I’ve traveled internationally, worked full-time, and attended grad school all throughout the pandemic. That’s more than most people have done in the past four years.

Last year, when I was diagnosed with my autoimmune condition, I received medication that suppressed my immune system. So now, not only am I at high risk for complications, but I also have a heightened chance of getting COVID-19.

It was only a matter of time before Miss ‘Rona caught up with me.

I got COVID-19 at the gym.

There is one place I go to where my usual COVID-19 precautions don’t work: the gym. People are breathing heavily all around you, the space can be cramped, and there are no open windows. Wearing a mask is impossible while gasping for air on the treadmill, and you can’t social distance. I usually tried to choose machines away from others and always wiped down my spaces, but…alas, it wasn’t enough.

I went to the gym on Friday and Saturday. Both days were unusually packed. I considered going home both days but decided to stick it out. Saturday, I realized I tired faster than usual on the treadmill but didn’t think much of it. Sunday, I had aches and pains but thought it was from going to the gym two days in a row.

On Monday, I got that weird rash on my gums that usually signals allergies are afoot. Then came the sniffles and coughing. By Tuesday, I was so hoarse I couldn’t talk. It didn’t get better, so I got allergy meds by Wednesday. They didn’t work at all.

“What if you have COVID-19?” my work husband joked on Thursday.

“Impossible,” I replied. I recited all the precautions I still took. After a pause, I thought out loud, “…well…there is the gym.”

I tested positive twice.

I had at-home tests in the RV, so I took one when I clocked out of work that Thursday. It showed positive within the first 30 seconds of the 15 minutes required for the test to work its magic. I was dressed and ready to leave by the time it got to 15 minutes, and that positive marker had not changed.

I drove to a local lab and requested a COVID-19 test. It took minutes to get tested and another 10 minutes to get the results in a neat little envelope. I returned to the FJ Cruiser with my heart in my throat and opened it.

Positive.

I called my mom on the way back to camp and told her I had tested positive for COVID-19. She, like everyone else, was shocked. Me? Four years later? After all the precautions I took? Yup, Miss ‘Rona had finally caught up to me.

The vaccine was worse than actual COVID-19.

When I got the COVID-19 shots, I was an absolute mess after each one. I always timed them to ensure I had a long weekend to be a zombie with hopes of being useful by Monday morning. I would sleep all day, lose my appetite, run a mild fever, and sometimes I would have aches and pains. This would last 24 to 72 hours, and then I’d be right as rain again.

I’m glad I got those shots because they’re doing exactly what they were meant to do. My symptoms have been mild despite being at high risk for transmission and complications. I haven’t had a fever or lost my appetite. I’ve been able to work and go to school (remotely!) all through last week and into this one. I did have a headache for about two days, but aspirin quickly took care of it.

So, do I have any symptoms?

Yes. I’m one of the few people whose temperatures have fallen instead of climbing. I’ve been running a temperature of 96.9°F and 97.1°F. According to what I’ve read—and warnings from friends—I need to be careful that my temperature doesn't drop lower, or I could face hypothermia. The lowest it has gotten to so far is 96.6°F.

When people have fevers, they often get chills and feel cold. I guess when people have the opposite, we feel hot. I am always hot now. Usually, the RV’s internal temp has to get to 88°F or more before I turn on the air. I’m Jamaican and have a high tolerance for heat.

Now, I’m hot by 80°F and burning up by 82°F. It’s a weird symptom, but that’s the one I’ve been grappling with. Usually, at 78°F in the RV, I feel cold. Now, I don’t feel anything. It’s… an okay temperature. Shadow also has a high tolerance for heat and hasn’t been a fan of the air running as much as it does now, but he knows where to go to find 80°F in the RV, whether it’s hot or cold.

I also tire out easily. I have to pace myself with work and school. I feel fine while doing the work, but after a few hours, I get really tired. I sleep a lot more now. After I clocked out today, I slept for at least three hours and will likely get my full eight hours tonight.

Based on when I think I got COVID-19, I should be on Day 11 of 14 of riding this out. While my symptoms are either weird, mild, or both, I can’t wait to get this over and done with.

It really sucks that Miss Rona finally got me. In a way, I feel like that character in a zombie apocalypse movie who’s the last woman standing. And as I fight off the last zombie and make it to the camp where soldiers have set up shelter, the wind blows the hair back from my neck, and you realize—I’ve been bitten.