In response to the coronavirus pandemic, one of my many cousins set up a WhatsApp chat group for our family so that we can stay in touch during this time. I have at least 25 first cousins on my father’s side of the family, most of whom are on the chat group. Many of my cousins are parents and grandparents. The family is very large and scattered across the world: Jamaica, the country where my cousins, grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, siblings and I were born, Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States. The U.S. based family live in New York (me), Virginia, Florida, California and Texas. It is a lively, multi-generational, diverse, and widely dispersed group which makes for spirited chat.
The initial messages on the chat that I saw consisted of family members joyously greeting each other and expressing their gratitude for this platform on which to communicate. Tidings of staying healthy and staying at home were exchanged. Pictures of family, flowers, food, mountains and beaches were posted; however, there was one post that defied the jocular chat exchange. Bobbie, my cousin Geoffrey’s wife, posted that he was out of bed and on the couch, the worst was over and that he was recovering. Geoffrey lives in Texas, works in the medical field, and travels a lot for his job. He is a husband, father, grandfather, brother, and cousin. He is also one of the over 200,000 confirmed U.S. Covid-19 cases.
Thankfully, Geoffrey recovered from Covid-19. My cousin Barbie asked Geoffrey to share the symptoms of his illness with the family chat group so that we would know what to expect in the event that one of us became infected with the coronavirus. Geoffrey generously shared his battle with the disease. His illness was a real wake-up call for the rest of us. It was dreadful. It was miserable. He had a fever for 12 days. He had no energy. He had no appetite. I thought that some good could come from Geoffrey’s suffering by sharing it with others. Geoffrey generously agreed that I could share his symptoms on the pandemic diary project. I am grateful for his willingness to share his account with us because it vividly illustrates the seriousness of the disease:
…, at first I felt tired with just a little lack of energy. Fever and decline came on quickly. Next day the dry cough started and lack of appetite. Energy level dropped to very low and stayed that way for two weeks. Overall feeling of bad illness like you would feel having a bad case of the flue. Although from a subjective point of view it felt different than anything I had felt before. The expected aches and pains associated with fever and staying in bed for so long. Some of the main symptoms I did not experience is tightening in the chest and shortness of breath. I did shallow breath to avoid stimulating the cough as much as I could. I pray non[e] of you have to experience this and I feel blessed I did not get to the point of hospitalization.
This illness was so bad, my cousin used a very expressive, colorful, Jamaican curse-word to describe it. I won’t write it here because only Jamaicans would understand the meaning and forcefulness of the word. And it’s not a nice word although, trust me, it is an apt description. Any illness that gives you a fever for 12 days deserves to be cursed at.
Geoffrey recently received the all clear from the health department. He is released from quarantine. His wife Bobbie is in quarantine until the middle of April. His daughter and family will be in quarantine until early April. He may have antibodies now to protect him from another bought of Covid-19; however, he is taking no chances. He continues to practice social distancing because he does “not want to tangle with Covid- [curse word] ever again!” Geoffrey is wise. He knows firsthand the power of Covid-19. He is a survivor. He is resilient. He is grateful. One of my other cousins paid tribute to Geoffrey by nicknaming him “COVID Warrior” He is a warrior. He is my family’s COVID-19 warrior.
