Thank you Venomous, and if I may,
. It happened in early February. His brother had it and survived late last year, while another relative had a less severe case.
Perhaps it has something to do with your being an exceptionally resilient [and determined] human being?
Were you ever not certain whether you were awake, or what was happening around you was a dream?
There was young man at a school not far from me who enjoyed his weight training and athletics who also died of it - so being younger doesn't seem to mean that the virus can't be lethal. It must be terrible for a parent to have to bury/cremate their child.
The only part that felt like a dream, and still does, is Sun 18 July,. That was when mr and daughter were there after the call at 20:00.
I didn't even "remember that dream" for nearly a week after my drugged week.
(mr was called to come say bye and do last rights* etc)
I was stabilised around midnight with oxygen at 73. Bottom third of lungs were "flooded", so they couldn't expect better. By latest 3am I was in high care, connected to even more machines. Person that was in there passed away just after midnight. So room had to be sterilised first.
(this is why I say surviving earned me the privilege of the high care room)
I remember much of what drs did. There were 4 drs at one point.
I remember the arterial drip going in. That was fucking sore. Worst drip insertion pain ever. Apparently that's why they do the tap so they don't have to cause that pain everyday.
The other drips.
The stuff put into my right leg.
Dr bitching his drugs are finished "and she's not going down"
Insert of catheter
The everything
Only thing I only remember part of is the intubation stuff going in. Coz I passed out. But I was fully awake and not drugged when they took out the intubation stuff.
While family were there (feels like a dream)
Apparently I was being injected every 5-10min with a muscle relaxant as I would start convulsing
(I will ask the dr about this during my 6week check. I suspect the drugs were to make it easier for family to visit. More than for me needing it.)
Many other people talk about being suspended and being face down.
I was on my back in a typical hospital bed with my arms permanently restrained(unless they were washing me coz I needed to be rolled. Legs they restrained at times.
Apparently I pulled on the pipes and cables while sleeping.
And sometimes I would kick at them. I suspect they were touching my right foot.
There is a line starting near toes and goes most of the way to back of heal. If you touch it I involuntary kick out. It is a piece between where nerves are dead and the live ones are. I absolutely HATE it being touched. I can't even control the kick, it just happens.
*I have zero religion in me, but most of family are very. Couple of priests etc (fucking thankfully they were/are too fucking far or fucking last rights woulda fucking been done)
After I seemed out of danger and got my phone back, all the family on the groups were praising, and stuff. I was just thankful to be alive! So I let them be/do/say whatever...
I just didn't respond.
My ones cousin called me.
My response "agh, fuck whatever. Leave 'em, it makes 'em happy."
Him: Will you ever change?
Me: You want me to .... sadistic..... (I'll spare you all the rant)
Him: I'll keep praying for your soul
Me: Whatever makes you happy. Go butter your mielie.
Me: Bye now. Chat again another day.
I tried religion, really I did, different versions of christianity also. Tried for years. And the clean version is: It is not for me.
I hope that clarifies a few things.