It took two weeks. Fourteen days from the day symptoms started to appear and twelve days from the day I tested positive for Covid, I finally tested negative on the 27 December. I thought I would never leave the house again. What with being incarcerated with a badly sprained ankle for five weeks and then Covid for a further two weeks, I was beginning to feel like a pit pony.
29 December 2022
16 December 2022
I thought things were going too well. My ankle has taken five weeks to feel anything resembling normal. First it took over two weeks for the bruising to go, then a further week for the worst of the swelling to subside - I say "worst" as there is still a residue of swelling compared with my good ankle. The pain has lingered the whole time but has been getting less so that my mobility was coming back slowly to the point that each week I noticed a subtle difference. I could go upstairs like a greyhound, but coming down was more like a snail, one stair at a time. My neighbour gave me a very good mantra to use to ensure I put the weight on the good foot whether going up or down..... "good foot to heaven, bad foot to hell." It worked!
Friends have collected me to ferry me to choir rehearsals, but otherwise I have been a hermit. Then of course came the bad weather and we have had snow and ice lingering for days. Five weeks on, I was just getting the courage to try driving again and get organised for Christmas.
There were two choir concerts I took part in - one last Saturday and one on Tuesday. It must have been at one of them when I was jinxed again. I HAVE COVID!! I have been lucky to avoid it all these years, but I have finally been struck down with it. At the moment it is little more than a bad cold and I hope it remains so. But i am stuck at home, on my own, with a temperature of 99.2F, icy conditions outside my windows and feeling annoyed that I still cannot get out. They say bad things come in threes. I sincerely hope there is no third thing lurking in the wings.