When Do I Get My Brain Back?

Damn you, Covid.

In Portland at a super-spreader event. I was having so much fun…

I’ve been feeling guilty about not putting pen to paper (fingers to keyboard?) lately because I’ve been busy putting on an annual meeting and doing other administrative tasks for my part-time (part-time?) job. Working so occupies my mind when I’m at it that I have no leftover thoughts to write about. But today? Today I am inspired. Lucky you.

I spent the greater part of a day revising an invoice. Thanks, Covid.

Some of you will remember that I came back from Portland a few months ago with Covid. I was really ill. Then I took Paxlovid and got better. Then I relapsed. It took me most of September to recover and I truly thought I did. I went to England and wrote a lot. Words weren’t the problem then, but numbers sure are.

Numbers ain’t my thing anyway, but since I got Covid they’re no longer benign annoyances. They are the bane of my existence. Yes, I meant bane. And today it felt like #2 headed straight for #1.

bane /bān/

noun

1. A cause of harm, ruin, or death.

2. A source of persistent annoyance or exasperation.

3. Fatal injury or ruin.

I can’t count the times I almost cried today. I can no longer follow a sequence of numbers, file folders, or anything else. My addled brain can only hold onto the first two or three levels of complexity these days.

For example, in October I made a $.50 accounting error and sent in an invoice for payment showing an adjustment had been made… only for some reason I can no longer explain (thanks, Covid), the adjustment didn’t need to be made to the invoice but to the amount payable to the contractor.

The only way I could follow the trail was to create a stinking spreadsheet tracking 6 different bills I received that covered contractor hours, 3 categories of travel expense, and direct costs. Stuff like that used to be easy. It no longer is.

I found the only thing that helped was periodically getting up from the computer to forget every rabbit trail I’d gone down and start again. It’s the cumulative things that get hard.

Oh, and one other thing I suspect is connected is that my formerly managed high blood pressure is out of control. I feel dizzy at least once a day, sometimes more. Last week I had to call the Professor to come and get me in a parking lot downtown where I had vomited and could barely walk from my car to his. I’m trying to figure out how to keep it in bounds but I’ve had to avoid adding salt and high sodium foods. Again, thanks, Covid.

I’m not exactly sure why it seemed important to share all this with you now, but I was so happy to be inspired to write that there it is. And no, I’m not going to a doctor. I’m not the only one dealing with the aftermath of Covid. And I’m not dead, ruined, or really harmed yet. I am annoyed. Exasperated. Frustrated.

A friend called it long Covid today. Yikes. I sure hope not. I’m wondering when and if this nightmare will ever end. I didn’t used to be a brainiac at math, but I could at least balance a check book and figure out simple bookkeeping.

When do I get my brain back?