Listen, if you thought COVID was going to let me off the hook with a week of sneezing and Netflix binging, think again. The virus hit, lingered, and left behind a carnival of nagging symptoms that make my post-COVID life feel like one prolonged endurance test. Imagine trying to claw your way back to normalcy when your brain has decided it’s fog central, and your body’s taken up dizziness as a side gig. Forget a mere sickness — it’s a full-on existential smackdown.
It started innocuously enough: the usual COVID symptoms – headache, fever, chills, a bit of that “can’t taste my food” nonsense. But as the main event wrapped up, I found myself left with an aftermath that’s proven far more insidious. Fatigue, brain fog, and dizziness settled in like unwelcome squatters. And these aren’t the kind of side effects you can just shake off; they’re the persistent, irritating ones that set up camp in your day-to-day life.
Fatigue: The Energy Thief
Fatigue is where this battle started, and it’s the kind of weariness that isn’t solved by a good night’s sleep. I’m talking about energy levels so low they make a Monday morning hangover feel like a spa day. I get up in the morning (usually sometime around when my brain decides to come back online), and within a few hours, I’m practically begging for a nap. It’s like my body turned into a grumpy old man, shaking its fist at the idea of doing anything even remotely strenuous.
Forget productivity. I’m measuring success these days by whether I can make it through a half-hour phone call without needing a lie-down afterwards. No amount of caffeine touches it, and don’t even get me started on the “natural remedies” crowd — all the chamomile in the world isn’t helping this kind of exhaustion.
Brain Fog: A Swamp of Cognitive Mishaps
Then, there’s the fog. And let’s be clear: I’m not talking about a bit of cloudiness in the thought department. This is mental quicksand. I reach for words and find… nothing. They slip through my fingers, like trying to grab fog itself, leaving me mid-sentence and searching the air for lost thoughts. Even the simplest of tasks turn into endurance sports, where every to-do list feels like it’s written in a language I no longer understand.
In conversations, I sound like a low-budget version of myself — slow, scattered, and occasionally wondering if I remembered to put pants on. I’ve become a walking glitch, a hiccup in the universe, stumbling through the simplest exchanges as if I’ve misplaced my entire vocabulary.
The Dizzy Spins: COVID’s Parting Gift
And then there’s the dizziness — the weirdest side effect of all. Picture this: I’ll be walking to the kitchen for a glass of water, minding my own business, and suddenly the world tilts. It’s as if my inner ear got the memo late that we’re all healthy now, only to slam the brakes on balance for no good reason. The feeling is somewhere between being on a merry-go-round and trying to walk a straight line on the deck of a ship in a storm. Most days, I look like someone who just took their first wobbly steps out of a pub at 11 p.m., only it’s 11 a.m., and I’m just trying to get the milk out of the fridge without crashing into a wall.
This dizziness comes and goes, usually at the least convenient moments. Stairs? Forget it. The supermarket aisle? I’ve had full moments of feeling like I should grab onto a can of beans to keep from falling over. Friends and family offer a barrage of solutions — everything from electrolytes to meditation to some intense-sounding herbal concoctions. I might scream if I hear the words “boost your immunity naturally” one more time.
In the Trenches of Recovery
Every day, it’s a new battle with this squad of leftover COVID-19 symptoms. Some days, it’s the fatigue that takes centre stage, making me feel like I’m moving underwater with weights tied to my ankles. Other days, brain fog blindsides me, and I fumble through my thoughts, trying to remember if I already told you about my latest symptom, only to realise… no, I told you last week. And the dizziness? That’s just the cherry on top, the thing that keeps me grounded — literally, usually because I’m clinging to a chair.
And you know what? Writing this was a Herculean feat in itself. Half the sentences felt like they were fighting me, each thought a slippery fish in the murky pond that is now my brain. But writing this down is its own kind of battle cry, a declaration that no, I’m not back to normal — but I’m crawling my way there.
So, if you’re in the same post-COVID quagmire, stumbling through days in a dizzy haze, you’re not alone. The path to recovery might be steep and a little crooked, but I’m convinced we’ll eventually find our way out. In the meantime, here’s to all of us still dealing with the aftermath, trying to walk a straight line in a world that seems intent on keeping us spinning.