Title.
For real though. I'm still mildly afraid of post-exertional malaise. I'm always wondering whether I'm doing too much, whether my body will fail me the next morning... even though, honestly, if I had to have it, I would've had it by now. I've done so many errands, so many walks, so many efforts that honestly, my body had PLENTY of occasions to give up on me and crash two days later.
It never did. I do know deep down that it probably isn't going to do it.
It's just that the acute phase of the illness scared me so much that now, I'm always looking over my shoulder. It was just the same when I had noro at 17. I was always afraid of throwing up again.
I remember those days when just getting to the bathroom or kitchen was terrible. That day I felt like I had fallen into denutrition (had two bouts of diarrhea the day before, poor appetite, lots of nausea so barely ate because I was terrified of vomiting). I felt so... light upon waking up. It was later confirmed that I had gone underweight for real this time: a few days later, my scale showed 47.9 kilograms. I probably fell to 47.5. I'm usually 49-50, sometimes 51 or 52. I've been up to 56 and as low as 46 in the past, but most of my adult life, I have been hovering around 50, give or take.
Obviously, it was due to the illness that I was so tired. I was right in the middle of the acute phase. I've had since four weeks of rest and rebuild and a shit ton of appetite and a Berocca with breakfast a day. I'm back to my usual weight. I'm also eating way too many candies, especially mints, because they help me ground myself. But I'm still... you know. I'm afraid of how fatigued I was.
There was one day after the acute phase where I went to the attic to fetch my winter clothes. It was... on the second week after the onset I believe. It was so tiring I literally went to lie flat on my back on the couch for 25 minutes after.
This isn't going to happen today. I know it. But still I'm always bracing for a potential crash.
Even when I know I'm slightly foggy because I am hungry, which is... normal.
Even when I know I'm sore because I haven't moved today and yesterday I have walked and thus my muscles have worked, which is... normal.
I guess it would sensitize anyone, but I'm a huge hypochondriac and have been since I was young.
Hell, even as I am dead aware that fever chills are definitely not the same as your run-of-the-mill chills that run across your body when you're tired or when you're... just cold, lol. But I've still caught myself touching my forehead! And then...
Oh, yeah. I definitely don't have any fever. I don't even know why I did that.
A touch of OCD, maybe. I wouldn't be surprised if this turned out to be THE mother of all the disorders in me. This, or GAD, with C-PTSD added on top. An annoying trifecta.
***
So about today, I was tired, yes. I was achey. But I wanted to go further away, and also, some guy told me yesterday night that my car (which is a diesel) stank and smoked.
I tested: no smoke in sight, but indeed she stank of burned oil.
Oh Little Grey, don't fail me just now.
At first I was a bit scared, but then I remembered that for the past month, the poor thing had been doing tiny journeys of 4km round trips. Of course the filter is going to get dirty.
So off on the road I took her. I also wanted... my agency back.
Like for real, I've just spent a month cooped up in my little town because I was too tired to drive far, like, dammit! I need to see more of the world!
And week by week, I had been feeling better. I had a slight motion sick feeling on the third week, fourth week was fine but still had some issue with store neons causing visual stress... fifth week, I'm totally clear. For the neons, and the motion.
That said at first I was so tense I ate mint after mint to ground myself. I was afraid that it would be too much. Too much effort. Nevermind that I walked two kilometers yesterday, that I've walked kilometers AND lifted heavy curtains AND been to Leroy Merlin a couple days ago which has a fairly large luminary section with a ton of lights, with no issues whatsoever.
When I arrived to the store, I was able to do my grocery shopping just fine, but the real test was when I actually got distracted by the clothes section. I needed some long-sleeved shirts to put under my sweaters anyway, and also, since the dance studio is probably not heated, I better wear long sleeves. I'm a snob about dancing in socks, but I think I'll have to... or better, in tights. Heeheehee.
After finding my clothes, it was weirdly enough way easier to keep shopping, and when I came out, I actually had energy to make a quick trip to the nearby Chinese store for my favourite ginger candies. Sina Ginger Candy, reader. Sina. My absolute best friend since 2018-2019, I eat more of that shit than any other candy. Except Star Mints. Sina and Star Mints. Ginger and mint. Emetophobe's best friend.
It's when I was on the return trip that I realized I felt pretty good, and that... my body wasn't painful anymore. Looks like it really indeed is muscular strength that I need to rebuild. I'm sore not because I'm still in the postviral phase, but because I need to get those gears going again.
Thank God I don't have Long Covid. I was terrified, TERRIFIED of getting long Covid. It can strike anyone, and even though, except for my female sex and pre-existing inflammatory conditions (endometriosis and adenomyosis), I was fairly unlikely to get it, stories like that of Dianna Cowern or even a YouTuber I used to follow back in the day, Tatiana Ventôse (who got the virus right at the start of the pandemic), made me absolutely scared of getting it. Those women were active, healthy, and yet... Dianna has been sick for years. Tatiana was sick for a few years, too. Dianna got it in 2022 or 2024... but ye, Tatiana was unlucky enough to have it in 2020, when it was at its strongest.
If I was sick like Dianna, that just wouldn't be a life.
I'd lose dance, a hundred percent.
I don't want to lose dance.
But thankfully, it appears I'm in the 95 percent of people who recover just fine from the disease.
***
Mom said that was to be expected, I'm young and healthy and I'm never sick.
I got Omicron, probably the Stratus variant. Omicrons are known to cause less long COVID, though they spread a lot and thus are still responsible for a fair amount of... well, long-haulers... because of the sheer statistical likelihood to get them. But as I said, I wasn't the likeliest person to get it.
I'm just so... painfully aware life can change in an instant, I've been so painfully aware of things I would rather not be aware of, for so long... that I'm always bracing for the worst.
It predates Hopoe, my suicide attempts and even the past abuse I have got.
It's always been somewhere in me, since my teens, that things can change in an instant, that you're not guaranteed a smooth life, that I'm unable to take it for granted. Not for long, anyway.
Perhaps I've read too many catastrophic stories, or I've... I don't know. I wonder if it didn't take root in me when my parents separated. It scars you at 10 to see your home blowing apart, even if your father was hardly around already. There is "having daddy absent cause he's in the military" and "having daddy leave mommy because he doesn't want to be with mommy anymore and he's also leaving me because I come with mommy".
But anyway.
I've touched some wood here.
Perhaps it's the wooden table I type this on. Or the fact I love wood.
Lol.
***
I also took my cat to the vet. He had been acting strange, shaking his head to the side and trying to scratch himself, and I was worried he might have something.
Turns out he has otitis. It's not infected, merely inflamed, but I think it was the right call to catch it early. I'll have to put drops in his ears for a week. Mom will do so in the morning as she wakes earlier than I do. I will do so in the evening.
Have a good evening. I'll take my shower and play Pikmin.
By the way. Little Grey stinks no more. She did need to spin those wheels a bit more. That's what it's like when you got a car that needs to move as much as you do.