NEW YORK CITY — I have a confirmed case of COVID19, also known as the coronavirus. If you interacted with me in person after Feb. 23, you can cite that fact, and get automatically tested. Otherwise, you might have to go through the ridiculous efforts I had to in order to get a simple test that other countries have given to their citizens by the hundreds of thousands (the U.S. isn’t even at 21K tests.
Finally, I apologize if I inadvertently and unknowingly infected you. I self-quarantined as soon as I had clear symptoms — but people can transmit before they’re symptomatic, which is another reason for a robust testing regime.
Stay safe, stay home, keep calm, be well.
Folks, this coronavirus outbreak is no joke. I’ll give you occasional updates, tweeting from Above the Hospital Bed, about how serious COVID19, also known as coronavirus can be. Think of this as #LatsCovid19Journal, my thoughts on Living with Covid.
A bit about me: I’m a generally-healthy, 44-year-old male, 153 lbs. (surely less now), 5’7”, no drugs, rarely drink, no health conditions other than exercise-induced asthma, which I manage with an inhaler.
I completed the NYC Marathon twice — not the greatest times, but I did — and even now that I can’t run much (knees post-40), each week I still walk 25 miles, and go to at least three high-intensity interval training classes at the gym.
In my current state, Living with Covid, I am constantly weak and winded. I’m hooked up to oxygen 24/7. Even with oxygen, the simplest tasks are extremely difficult.
This morning, this ex-marathoner could barely walk the five feet from the bed to the toilet — and I had to pee as quickly as possible, chest heaving with the labor of breathing, because I was going to collapse if I stood too long.
I’m usually a fast eater (bad habit, I know). Today, it took my 90 minutes to eat my lunch — because I kept getting winded. Who DOES that? I’m so weak, the fork wobbled each time I lifted it to my mouth.
To be sure, COVID19 hits different people differently. I gave it to my husband, and for him, it was a low-level flu that seems to have almost run its course after about a week.
But for those who get severe cases, like me, it’s been hell. I’ve had 10 days and counting, with no real improvement, of fever, fatigue, joint aches, chills, cough, respiratory difficulty. I have never been this sick in my entire life.
To paraphrase Beyonce, COVID19 did not come to play with us hoes; it came to slay. Please keep me — and my very anxious family — in your thoughts and prayers.
As the coronavirus outbreak continues to spread, more and more people will experience symptoms and wonder: do I have COVID19?
Big caveat: coronavirus manifests itself in very different ways. Some folks get very sick, like me, and require hospitalization; some have something akin to a low-level flu (my husband Z.); some are asymptomatic.
On the evening of Saturday, March 7, Z. and I went out to dinner with friends. After dinner, we were going to have a round of drinks — but I suddenly felt unwell, so I excused myself and went home.
On Sunday, March 8, I was still feeling tired, but I didn’t put much stock in it — I even went to a gym class that afternoon (and struggled, but again just chalked it up to it being one of those days).
That evening, we went out to dinner with Z.’s parents. In the middle of dinner, I again felt unwell, excusing myself early.
On Monday, March 9, I felt decently. I even went into the office for a few hours. But upon returning home that night, I knew something was off.
My fever and chills began that night going into Tuesday, March 10. I didn’t go into work that day (and basically, didn’t leave my apartment since then, except when I finally went to the hospital).
How did I get coronavirus? I have no idea; it was through community spread. And I was also contributing to that spread, because I (stupidly and cavalierly) brushed off my initial mild symptoms and went to the gym, office, etc.
Other symptoms included joint aches and extreme fatigue. But it didn’t (yet) feel that different from the “regular” flu. During this period, I managed the fever and pain with a rotating cast of over-the-counter pain meds.
On Tuesday and Wednesday (March 10 to March 11), my fever ranged from 101-104, with the 101-102 range most common.
On Thursday, March 12, I woke up fever-free without having taken fever-reducing meds, which struck me as great. In fact, by that afternoon, I was thinking that maybe I was over whatever little three-day bug I had.
Boy, was I wrong. On Thursday afternoon/evening, I developed a nasty cough, replete with heavy chest congestion. This continued into Friday, which is when my fever returned (101.6).
I called my internist on Friday, March 13. The physician’s assistant I spoke with said it sounded like a flu that turned into bronchitis. She prescribed cough syrup and a Z-Pak, and said I could feel better as early as the next day.
Unfortunately, I got worse over the weekend, my coughing having progressed to the point where it was making it hard for me to breathe. On Sunday, March 15, I made my way to the emergency room at NYU Langone Medical Center, my nearest ER.
I described my symptoms at the ER, but based on all the horror stories I had read about the difficulty of getting a COVID19 test, I wasn’t expecting much — and I was right.
This was during the worst days of the test shortage. To get tested back then, you needed symptoms AND 1) travel to an affected area, 2) exposure to an affected person, or 3) test results (like cold/flu panel) to rule out alternatives.
During that first visit to the ER, they did give me the cold/flu panel, which tests for a wide range of viral and bacterial agents that can cause cold/flu symptoms. My test came up… negative.
So, I said when they told me this, NOW can you finally give me a COVID test? Alas, no. I don’t know the source of this rule or regulation, but I had to have my primary doctor call the hospital back the next day to schedule me for the test.
This seemed ridiculous. I had been seriously ill for over a week, I had scored negative on a test that captures about 85 percent of other viruses/bacteria — but instead of testing me for Covid-19 then and there, you want me to go back out into the community, potentially infecting more people on my way home, and come back to you the next day, potentially infecting more people on my way in?
My arguments fell on deaf ears. I hopped in a cab and headed home (again sanitizing my hands and suppressing my cough for the short trip, not wanting to infect the driver).
By Monday March 16, I couldn’t breathe again. I rushed back to the ER — and this time they were on their game. They admitted me, gave me oxygen, put me in an isolation room — and FINALLY gave me the coronavirus test.
It shouldn’t have taken two separate ER visits, both times with severe respiratory symptoms, to get a COVID19 test. But that was my experience — and even though the situation is improving, it’s still sadly the case for so many others. (Tweets from David Lat)
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David Benjamin Lat is an American lawyer, author, and legal commentator, founder of Above the Law, a website about law firms and the legal profession. His parents are US-based Filipino doctors Emmanuel & Zenda Garcia-Lat from Cebu.