Second Covid shot

Second Covid shot, so far, so good. Better organized. I was injected within minutes. I medicated with Benadryl & aspirin. Need a nap.

As soon as I got my shot I took aspirin and Benadryl. I was told that same information to not take NSAIDs but I could not verify it, so to play it safe, I followed directions, only to find out it wasn’t even true. I think that sound bite about not taking NSAIDs is left over from the .45 bleach era. There is a lot of misinformation that is still floating around. My nurse practitioner was very clear on the subject. She said it was bullshit. There is no reason why you can’t aspirin or Advil beforehand. Bring a water bottle and aspirin or drug of choice, maybe Benadryl.

Seriously more organized this time around. My appointment was at 11:15 and I was done by 11:30. Then I had to wait till noon. Still no side effects. However Benadryl is probably working as well as the aspirin. I had to go up to my car and take a nap literally for an hour. I feel like I have been drinking for a week. And I don’t drink, not really. What a relief. Now we wait for two weeks before I am immune.

My synapses and my inability to finish thoughts and sentences, are definitely off kilter.  I’m sure much of it is stress, and some of it is Benadryl. I had a glass of wine to celebrate. It tasted so good. My speech did not improve.

I was also nauseous in the middle of the night. I couldn’t even raise my right arm it was so painful. I thought for a moment I was going to visit the porcelain god. Today I have a headache. And my hips hurt something fierce. All my old aches and wounds are lining up and taking turns.

Slept or dozed most of the day.  Still easily tired, fatigue, but at least my brain is back online. No more brain fog. Yesterday I spoke excellent qualude scrabble, almost all vowels. My arm still aches but it’s nowhere near as bad. No aspirin today—so far. Still seeking warmth like a heat-seeking cat. In my car, sort of like a sauna, or a sunporch.

Let’s just say last night was a very long cold night. Watched several episodes of the Queen’s Gambit. I don’t understand chess anyway. I was taking baby aspirin by the handful. I, who rarely take anything. Every old injury chimed in and said remember me? I have been beaten with small sticks, It’s a Thursday, but it isn’t Paris in the rain. Where is Cesar Vallejo when you need him?

Day 3 still don’t feel quite right, easily frustrated and fatigued. But I awoke at 4 AM, dangerous dreams. Felt better in the late afternoon. Was hungry all day but when I ate, I got nauseous and lost my appetite. Mercurial.

Day 4. Got a full night’s sleep. Felt great until I stood up. Shower was divine. I think I had night sweats again. Still reacting, lethargy like when you are still sick but are improving. However, an upset kicked me into spontaneous stress sweats. My forehead was drooling. That never happens.

One reason why I’m recording my symptoms here is in the hopes that it will help other people as well. I definitely run out of breath early and often. Stupid things like going up and downstairs tires me out. It’s hard not to imagine the worst is going on like I’m suffering from heart problems, or something. The best way to describe it is various symptoms keep cycling through at an alarming rate. Nothing is horrible it’s just you’re not quite right. I wanted to eat breakfast, I started to prep something to eat and then got revulsion. Only a general clamminess right now.

Day 5: So far, so good, but then, I’m still in bed. I awoke at 6AM, bummed that I didn’t sleep in. Yesterday I slept in, which helped enormously, nothing like a full-night’s sleep to make you right as rain, as my grandmother might say. But when I went to my care giver job, I was easily overwhelmed and distressed by mid-afternoon. 

It doesn’t help that I was born under the cranky sight. When I was a child, my granny said she couldn’t wait until I was old enough to drink coffee. Yesterday’s weak coffee didn’t help, it was limp-wristed milquetoast.

I was at a disadvantage and multi-tasking was completely out of the question. Even mono-tasking was problematic, so attempting to do my job was painfully hilarious—especially the laundry. I was ADHD. Oh look, shiny. 

OMG, I had three simple tasks, to check the laundry, maybe start a new load, and bring in the dry clothes. I managed to accomplish one task at a time, sequentially, replete with three separate trips to the laundry room. 

You know how when you retrace your steps to the last place you were, in order to remember an escaped thought? Well I had to return to the kitchen three times in order to finish the laundry.

The rest of the afternoon followed suit in a similar crazy pattern of random memory breaks. Clearly multi-tasking, something which I am particularly adept at, one might say I was the reigning champion of multi-tasking, was simply not in my domestic arsenal. 

I was also easily fatigued which exacerbated the problem. And I was restless, niggling about like a homeward horse worried about the state of the barn. I couldn’t seem to rest. An odd combo of adrenaline rush compounded by fatigue. Finishing sentences and following trains of thought was not on the agenda.

I am rather dogged, and tend to finish my tasks—no matter what. But yesterday was a challenge. I left many things undone. Time was an odd, if fluid concept. I was in a quagmire located in the land of forever, so just to make chicken soup and do the dishes was like being caught up in a domestic Godot walkabout.

Driving home to Sonoma Co. from W. Marin was a more of a challenge than I had anticipated, I just wanted to pull over and sleep by the side of the road. I did pull over by Nicasio Reservoir to gather my wits. It didn’t work. They were off with the fairies. 

I should’ve just stayed over another night in W. Marin, but I wanted to be in my own bed. It was too difficult to be a guest, in a strange bed not my own—especially when I felt so out of sorts. 

I fell asleep while listening to an audiobook, practically in my dinner plate. At least it was Blue Willow. TG I was already in bed. Dressing for dinner during these Covid times revolves around which flannel nightie to don. So I was battle ready, girding my loins.