Well - here we are. Over four weeks post-covid diagnosis and still debilitated because of post-viral fatigue. I know people who have ME and I know what they’ve suffered because of the lack of acknowledgement from the medical profession. And now I’m experiencing the same. “Make sure you get plenty of sleep, eat a good diet, do gentle exercise, change your mindset - it could all be in your mind after all.” No, it really isn’t. I have never experienced anything like this before. My body feels leaden. It takes enormous effort to get out of bed and great effort even to shift the position of a leg while sitting down. It’s an effort of will and intention. Even my mind is exhausted. I feel drunk most of the time - dizzy and disoriented. Yet I am sleeping for England and have put on half a stone because my appetite has been undiminished throughout the illness. It’s all very odd. I noticed a couple of days ago that I have started to acquire a little energy around 3pm in the afternoon. Capitalising on this, I have been doing short two to four mile walks while chanting ‘onward and upward’. Usually tough twelve milers are more to my liking. However, it has felt glorious and hopefully signals that things will improve - eventually. In the meantime, I’ve been raking through my rusty knowledge of Biomedical Science to think about what the hell can be going on. My buck is resting with mitochondria. There’s plenty of circulating oxygen for them in my bloodstream so I suspect the little blighters have been annihilated by the covid virus, or may be have lost their reproductive capacity. Unless, of course, the virus has affected membrane permeability and the O2 is not getting into the cell to feed the little critters. Whatever has happened to them, they need to sort themselves out and up their game. If I was thirty years younger I would apply for research funding. As it is, the only funding on offer to me now is for funeral costs.
