Dealing with Covid anxiety and getting well

Before I caught Covid recently, someone had commented the anxiety I felt would kill me faster than Covid itself. I recognize her point, but also squelched it, particularly because at 61 it is not a given that I'd avoid a trip to the hospital or worse. Not to mention the risk of Long Covid, which is still a terrifying possibility.

I am considered an anxious person in general, a label that hasn't helped me make friends or set others at ease at cocktail parties. But the anxiety has helped me act on danger more quickly, staying attuned to threats in a way my calmer brethren do not. I was very strong after the 1989 San Francisco earthquake, when my mom needed surgery, and even after she died of an unrelated cause. It was only after Mom passed, months later, that my anxiety kicked in.

I have been dealing with my fear of lapsing into Long Covid by writing (longhand in my Covid journal, begun at the start of the pandemic), watching late night comedy, walking, taking hot baths, reading novels, reading smart articles (by respected journalists or scientists) and speaking to my therapist. When I see maskless people blithely going about their days, I don't think they are less anxious than I; I think they are either unaware of their risk or know it and do not care; or selfishly, do not care about transmitting the virus to others. It is this last point that particularly rankles me, whether it is in regard to myself or the pregnant person in front of me on line at Big Y.

Today, Amazon is delivering my oximeter, a device I barely knew about until yeaterday when my APRN mentioned that I could measure my oxygen at home. I was filled with anxiety when she told me I should go to the ER if I am wheezing or struggling for breath. I felt anxiety because I worried I may be missing signs and I need a trusted physician to assess my overall health. I did message my doctor, who knew over a year ago that I would survive this should I get it, and likely do well.

But will I be more or less anxious now that I have had Covid? Variants mean that next week I could suffer a whole new strand. Substitute teaching means I will return to the scene of the crime (most likely; to be clear, I could have caught C on the bus, at the store, optometrist, etc.)

But right now, I realize I am breathing fine. The Paxlovid made me nauseus on Day 4 and I vomited and sweat, but I got through it. And I am wildly excited that today I won't have to deal with that nasty metalic taste (a Paxlovid side effect) in my mouth! I can still smell and taste, yah! Cinnamon and Chanel No. 5 have never been sweeter.

>Photo: The Plutchik "Wheel of Emotions", which was created to help people clarify and better understand their emotions, including anxiety-https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Plutchik_Dyads.svg#/media/File:Plutchik_Dyads.svg