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| My brother, Max, and dear cousin, Virginia both died in the past three years. I miss them. |
Like most people, my life has made some drastic changes--good and not-so-good.
The changes for me began in early 2020 when I became sick. I was alone in my mountain home and sicker than I had ever been while living alone. I had a fever and one night in bed I was wheezing when I breathed and when I coughed. I thought about calling 911, but I made it through the night and the next day I drove to an urgent care facility a few miles from my home. For the first time in my life, a nurse swabbed my nostrils.
"What are you doing that for?" I asked.
The nurse said, "To see if you have the flu."
They said I didn't have the flu but had a respiratory infection and prescribed antibiotics. At home, I took antibiotics for a week and was still very sick.
My neighbors, Marsha and Alice, brought food to me but didn't come in because they were afraid they would catch what I had. I hardly ate.
I made an appointment with my primary care doctor. When I told her my symptoms included pressure in my chest, she had me take an EKG. She told me many who had COVID developed heart problems. The EKG showed no change from the one I had previously.
She said, "You don't have an infection. You have a virus. Antibiotics will not help you."
A few weeks later I began to hear about a virus they were calling COVID-19.
Then I heard my brother, Max, had been hospitalized. We believe now that he had COVID but was not diagnosed with it. He had to be put on a ventilator for breathing. For both Max and me, this virus changed everything.
He came home from the hospital and could not get his strength back. We talked on the phone every week and he was frustrated that the doctors had put him on blood pressure drugs and were not doing anything to help him get back to normal. He had walked a few miles every day for years, but after his illness, he could barely walk to his mailbox and back.
While he was in and out of the hospital, I was dealing with extreme fatigue, loss of taste and smell, and feeling overwhelmed because I didn't have the energy to take care of my everyday household duties. I slept poorly and had brain fog most days. Because the virus was rampant in our area, I became a recluse in fear of catching it again. I learned what it meant to be alone and lonely. I am a people person and days of not seeing or talking with another person depressed me terribly.
Adding to my problems, I hurt my knee that I had injured years ago and it would not heal this time. Soon I was seeing an orthopedic doctor and having injections for the pain in an effort to forestall having surgery. I began physical therapy hoping that would help me grow stronger and more fit.
My new primary care doctor told me that my fatigue could be caused by the virus I had in 2020. She ordered an Echo Cardiogram because she heard a heart murmur.
That started me on this long trek from local medical care to Atlanta and heart specialists located in Atlanta where I did not feel comfortable driving. I am grateful for my sister, Gay, and her husband, Stu, who get me down there to the hospital and also have a place for me to stay
While we all thought 2021 would bring the end of COVID, it only brought more confusion and fear of illness. My sister-in-law died in February, and the funeral home streamed the service at our family cemetery which made it possible for me to attend virtually. I am at high risk for COVID and was afraid to attend.
I was getting over a second round of COVID in January 2022 at my sister's house when I learned that my dear brother had died.
Thankfully, by then I had taken my vaccinations and I used oxygen at home so I didn't end up in the hospital. Still, I was quite sick for several days. I attended his funeral in person in south Georgia.
When people say we have the best health care in the world, they are so, so wrong. I have not been able to speak to a doctor in Atlanta where I have had several expensive tests done in all these months I have been waiting. I found the phone number for a nurse practitioner in the offices of my heart specialist and she has tried to help me get answers, but she says the tests don't show enough heart damage for Medicare to pay for a procedure to fix it. It will get worse in time and then insurance will pay for the procedure I need. As my condition worsens I will have more symptoms. Does that make sense?
Why did it take eight months for them to make a decision? Why didn't a doctor or someone in authority talk to me and explain what is going on? The NP says she doesn't understand how I "fell through the cracks" and could not get any answers.
My brother's son said to me tonight," When you are an older person who has taken care of yourself so you could live longer, the doctors don't seem to want to help prolong your life. It seems they think you did well to live this long, and we don't need to spend any time or effort to keep you living."
He told me my brother was sent to a larger hospital from a smaller one in February because he needed to have fluid drained from his lungs. But once he was there, no one did anything for him. He was there for two and a half days before he had a heart attack and died.
My nephew said the doctors had not even discussed his health or why he was sent there. They simply let him die. After all, he was in his nineties so no need to prolong his time on this earth.
As I enter my senior years, I am seeing the lack of interest the medical world has in my welfare. I plan to have my knee replaced in February 2023. I will go through a difficult recovery and I am prepared for that.
I hope I will be able to walk without pain and live alone again. That is why I am optimistic about 2023. I will teach again and write again and visit with my friends. I will be independent and unafraid. Those are not resolutions. They are my plans. Of course, I don't plan to be ill.
I hope you have good plans for the coming year and that they come to fruition. I would love to hear what you want to do in 2023.
