There may be life after Covid for me!
But I've thought that before. One day I feel almost great. The next I feel like I'm dying. I've been diagnosed with bronchitis, which is better than the pneumonia they suspected. The treatment this time is a steroid inhaler. Three doses in, so far, so good.
One note of hope is that I actually began a painting today. This is the first time since before Christmas that I had the energy to try it. It is huge and I've only roughed in the edges, but that is a start. Part of my reluctance is that this is my last giant canvas and part of it is wondering if I have enough of the right paints to finish it.
The last big painting I did was during Covid, so it's been awhile. But I've done many smaller ones and I think my technique has improved.
I am so hyper-focused on me that I worry I am out of touch with the real world sometimes. I keep in touch with my children almost daily and Bestest calls frequently. Good friends write and the people at work have been awesome, but most of my life, for the past 21 days have been focused on me. Can I breathe? Can I sleep? Can I eat? Do I feel good enough to go through the waiting on the phone to talk to my doctor? How will I get to the drugstore for medicine, or the grocery store for essentials?
Mostly I have sat in this recliner, day and night, and watched movies.
Until today.
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