while taking a shower yesterday, i was rinsing my hair.  you know how you stand there, your head back under the water, your hands in your hair, moving around to get all the conditioner out?  well…i felt something odd slide down my back, and then off of me.  it was a creepy feeling, and when i turned around to look, i saw a large chunk of my hair.

i felt…deflated.  i just knew, that this was yet another “after affect” of this damn virus.  i don’t think i’ve mentioned the ongoing skin issues i’ve had.  first itching, that turned into a red bumpy rash, everywhere on my torso.  i called my doctor…he confirmed that it was indeed a NORMAL after affect of fighting a serious virus, so therefore covid related, because that’s the virus i had fought.  the rash begin to fade after two weeks, and i thought it was done, but then i began to peel everywhere.  you know the kind of peeling that happens after a sunburn?  everywhere on my torso, and the skin underneath the peeling was red and burned.  it has since calmed down, but is still an issue…if i don’t keep constant slathered amounts of lotion on my skin, it will be bumpy and peely.  and now…the top of my feet are even peeling.  it’s ONGOING.

but back to the hair…

i picked up the chunk of hair so that it wouldn’t clog the drain and put it aside to throw away when i got out of the shower, and i went back to rinsing my hair, and while doing so, another, equally large clump of hair came out in my hands.  at this point…i cried.

now…i haven’t shed tears thru this whole ordeal, even tho its literally rocked every single possible of ME.  but there i stood in the shower with this chunk of my hair in my hand, crying like a damn baby.  how much “body withering” can one person take?  especially when i’m working so hard every single day to fix what has already been damaged.  i take a ton of vitamins to rebuild my immune system, i work out gently (cause i’m weak as shit) to attempt to get flesh and muscle under my weird wrinkling skin where all the previous flesh and muscle was eaten away during the worst of the illness.  i eat a diet that is more healthy than i’ve ever eaten in my life (because i have no desire at all, to put anything UNhealthy in me after all this).  the efforts i make on a daily basis are constant.  yet…new issues to battle keep coming up.

i gathered myself, and stopped the tears.  “buck up terri…you’ve no other choice”….right?  i finished my shower and i ended up taking a picture of the two chunks hair before throwing them away, mostly because i’ve tried to document as much of this covid journey as possible.  there was a 3rd chunk of hair, that i didn’t take a picture of, that came out in my brush, while brushing my hair after the shower.

my immune system has been thrashed.  my body has been thrashed.  my skin has been thrashed.  and now my hair is falling out too?  and all of this after BEATING the virus?  it seems unfair, and i won’t lie…i’m having serious bouts of feeling sorry for myself, mixed in with the grateful feelings of having lived thru it.  i mean seriously…these kinds of issues, are hard knocks to any levels of self confidence when it comes to your physicality.  i feel GROSS most of the time.

yet i keep working every day to battle it all.  all the while, wondering “what’s next?”  my teeth?  my eyes?  they know so little about this virus, and are connecting so much to it, based on what so many are suffering afterwards that is common.

so…i did what i always do, and looked up the hair loss in connection with covid.  it’s not so much a symptom, as it is a consequence of having had the virus.  lovely…i didn’t ask for the virus, and i’m constantly suffering consequences?  this hair loss can go on for up to 9 months.  one woman on a thread said she had three wigs in her amazon cart…just in case, because her hair was falling out so fast.  i know that vanity shouldn’t matter in light of being alive.  but it does.  it just does.  and i’m sick to death of being told, “it’s normal”, “it’s common”, “it’s temporary (they hope)”, and even…”just be glad your alive and don’t worry about it”.  ugh…of course, most of these comments come from those who haven’t gone thru it, so they just don’t understand how the constant wrecking havoc on your body feels.

i can have several days in a row of feeling pretty good.  mind you, that doesn’t mean i’m energetic…cause that ship seems to have sailed; i’m constantly tired.  but good in terms of i can get thru a day, stay awake for a whole day (even tho by 6ish pm, i’m crawling to bed, just completely done with day), do my little work out, get good food in me, swallow all my vitamins, and feel like i made good steps forward in my recovery, even tho the steps are so simple and seemlingly easy.  still…it feels like like progress.  yes…staying awake for a while day, feels like progress.

but then…there will be a day where a headache slams you flat down.  the headaches border on migraine.  moving is painful.  you are nausea is constant.  laying down is the only option.  and once you get enough tylonel (i take the strong ones the hospital sent me home with) down you to dull the headache, you are still foggy headed and what i can only describe as dizzy or slow motioned feeling, for the rest of the day.  these headaches are not just for a few hours…they last thru the day, and they become your day, because you can’t function thru them.  days like this feel like HUGE STEPS BACKWARDS, in all the progress you’ve made.  but it seems that covid likes to remind you that it took a bunch of your control away…and maybe will be doing so for a while.  “long haulers” they call us.  that phrase should have good meaning, but not in this case.

because i try so hard to drill positives in my head, (or else i will succumb completely to the depressed feelings) i constantly remind myself of those forward steps i’ve made, and how far i’ve come since leaving the hospital.  i’ve made great strides…and those strides have to provide the strength for the lows that keep popping up.  but sometimes you need to cry like a baby first.  sometimes you need to feel sorry for yourself for a little bit, before you pull on your big girl panties, and get back in the fight that you never asked to be part of…because really there’s no other choice, if the thing i want most is to find myself again, thru all the wrinkled skin and sucked away muscles and peeling skin and shedding hair and out of the blue pounding headaches that render me completely useless.  under it all…i’m still here somewhere, and i’m going to get to back to me.  covid-19  has left me with a person i don’t recognize when i look in the mirror…but i know i’m there…i can fix the damaged figure i see looking back at me.  at some point, every day won’t be a battle right?

like i said, sometimes you just need to cry.  and it’s okay.