Waiting to get better and not knowing when this would happen was the hardest part.

In February, 2020. I visited the Philippines and didn’t think much about Covid. However, when I returned, everyone in the U.S. was talking about the virus. There was a stay at home order in place. I knew Covid was a respiratory disease and wore a mask when I needed to go out. I was careful to wash my hands and sanitized all the groceries I brought home. 

I think I caught Covid at a family gathering on December 25. Another family member began showing symptoms a few days later. He thought it was the result of his recent Covid vaccination, but his condition worsened and tested positive for the virus.

8 family members came down with Covid and we all went into quarantine. In spite of taking all the precautions, we still caught Covid. I did not expect this.

On January 1, I had a fever and chills, but was  still able to do schoolwork online. 5 days later, I developed an irregular heartbeat and was wiped out. I had nausea and started throwing up. Then I found out my mother was hospitalized with Covid.

I was sick for 12 days. I had a fever and wanted to be tested for pneumonia but the ER told me to stay home because my condition was not critical. I felt hopeless and miserable waiting to get better. I tried to move around, but was fatigued, and sleeping was difficult. All my family kept checking in on me but I was much more sick than anyone else.

This was scary. I was worried about what the virus was doing inside of me, how it might be affecting my organs. I lost my senses of taste and smell and was anxious about long haul Covid effects.

Waiting to get better and not knowing when this would happen was the hardest part. ON the 10th day, I expected to recover, but this did not happen. I woke up the next day with no fever and chills.

I recovered but still have a cough. My Covid experience was more mental and emotional because many people in my family were sick at the same time and I could not help them. I was alone.

When I was sick, I could only check up on my mom by phone. I found out she had signed a DNR and this shook me up. I wasn’t ready for her to die. After I recovered, my fiance and I went to visit, encouraging her to live. It was hard to talk with her because she was wearing an oxygen mask, but I assured her that whatever she decided would be fine. My mom rescinded the DNR but two days later we were told she was going to be intubated.

We went for what might be our final visit. My mom was very weak. Intubation was no guarantee she would make it through. We said goodbye and did a prayer rally with everyone we know.

The intubation did not proceed immediately because there was no doctor available for the process. Other patients were in line ahead of her.

Miraculously, her condition began to improve. The whole family was able to talk with her via video call and this helped boost her morale.

I cried for my mom and her suffering. She had been in the hospital for 3 weeks. I only suffered for 10 days. I wanted to sit with my mom, care for her, but I understood the safety protocols required to protect everyone.

I think the hardest part of Covid is being alone. No one can help you, be with you, and it’s very hard to help yourself. 

I’m scared. She’s scared. But we’ll all work together to take care of each other.