Through the COVID Looking Glass and Back

By Traci Ciepiela

Everyone experiences difficult times. Sometimes those difficult times teach you what you are made of. They can also reveal truths hidden deep down in yourself. The introduction of the COVID pandemic in the world changed innumerable lives. This is one of those stories. While it centers on the afflictions of COVID, it also paints a picture of overcoming. The story details a vaccine injury affecting many people everywhere in the world but is a story that hasn't been told. In the end, this is a story of survival and perseverance, connection, and finding meaning in the post-COVID world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: May 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891129580

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

1: Today Is the Day I Died

2: The Hospital

3: Going Home

4: History

5: The Vaccine

6: Where Do I Go Now?

7: The Trip

8: Finally, the Fauci

9: How Did I Find the Ability to Move On

References

Picture Section

About the Author

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Through the COVID Looking Glass and Back

Traci Ciepiela

ISBN 979-8-89112-957-3 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89112-958-0 (Digital)

Copyright © 2024 Traci Ciepiela

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

1

Today Is the Day I Died

Today is the day; it is a year after the day I died. Or I guess nearly died would be the correct description. I was in respiratory arrest and nearly unconscious. I don't have any idea how I even woke up that morning. I never should have been able to open my eyes. I knew the night before I had a pretty good upper respiratory infection going on, so that night, I decided I was going to use my oxygen concentrator just to give me a little bit more oxygen while I slept. I assume that is the only reason I work up on this morning a year ago. If I had just turned over, to go back to sleep that morning, I would not be here anymore. A lot of people over the past couple of years have been in this position. I survived; many didn't. But I sometimes question whether it was a good thing. I do wonder if I am really one of the lucky ones.

When COVID first hit the world, I didn't really think too much of it. I actually was over on that side of the world enjoying a trip to New Zealand for the new year. I had no idea that a deadly virus was spreading unabated in that corner of the globe. I flew home from the trip and went back to my job, and my life never even hearing the words COVID or coronavirus. That would change.

Shortly after returning to the US, I actually did get very sick. After being sick for a couple of weeks, I went to the doctor and asked for antibiotics because whatever I had wasn't going away. Even with a full course of antibiotics, the illness did not abate, and I remained sick for another couple of weeks. So when news of COVID broke, I believed I already had an early version since antibiotics did nothing to kick the illness I had. I would eventually find out that you can get COVID again.

As businesses shut down in March of 2020, it felt like COVID was going to infiltrate my community like a huge cloud of death chasing people down the street, and if we dared to be outside it would engulf us, killing everyone in an instant like a bad horror movie. My work actually ended up moving online. I was able to continue teaching for the college I work for, and I was able to continue receiving an income. If I had been one of the unlucky ones to lose my income, I don't know what I would have done. How does one live without an income when there are bills to be paid?

In reality, that cloud I expected to chase me down the street never did emerge, but after a few months of dealing with the disease circulating around the globe, things started to open back up at least where I lived; other states weren't as lucky. It was finally June when my gym opened back up. My workplace would go to mostly in person starting that fall.

I didn't know a lot about COVID. It really seemed no one anywhere in the world knew much about it. No one I knew had it, and from news reports of people who did have it indicated that it was similar to a cold or a really bad flulike illness. I really reached a point in the drama and the doomsday discussions on public forums where I just didn't care anymore. If I was going to get it, I was going to get it. If I didn't, I didn't. And when I started hearing people say things like you could have the virus but no symptoms at all, I really just didn't care anymore—at all.

I went back to work as did many people after five months of being locked out of my job being forced to work only online, only daring to visit with friends as we all got takeout together and sat in our cars separated in the parking lots of restaurants. I was one of the lucky ones because my state opened up much faster than others did, so we got to get back to normal by the time summer rolled around.

When we got back to work, we had to wear masks since someone thought that a cloth covering over your mouth could stop a deadly virus. We had to try to stay at least six feet apart from each other and from students. I had to remove chairs from classrooms to make sure students could also be six feet apart. I teach at a college, and we were forced to go online in 2020, and when we were allowed back, the students were given a choice as to whether or not they attended. Needless to say, college students tended to prefer staying in bed and attending class by computer. The college spent thousands installing cameras in what we would start to refer to as Zoom rooms. The college was very persnickety in regard to those cloth barriers too. Faculty were even getting in trouble if we didn't force students to comply as well.

Many of my students took to wearing a neck gator over our mouths and nose. At some point, and I don't know why, the college decided that wasn't enough and forced us to the masks that wrapped around your ears. They also spent a lot of money purchasing N95 masks and sending them to us through interoffice mail. I never even opened that package I was sent as it was stamped with Made in China. I had no desire to put that on my face. Not to mention all the videos posted on different social media outlets showing grotesque conditions in which masks were being constructed.

Living alone, like I do, the lockdown, the lockout, really got particularly hard for me. My gym was closed, work was online, and the only time I saw anyone was when I did the parking lot lunch circle or when people walked by my house walking their dog. I started to take joy in just watching the little kids across the street enjoying themselves while they played in their front yard. It was like the world had ended and no one told me. The joy of watching kids play though was short-lived. Being alone and being sequestered resulted in an immense feeling of isolation and depression.

I definitely did get accustomed to the ability to sleep—a lot. I also became an expert in binge-watching shows on Hulu. I lucked out that there was something like twenty-seven seasons of the Amazing Race. Fourteen-hour long episodes, at least, in each season, for twenty-seven seasons. I spent most of the lockdown in bed or moving ten feet to the couch to binge-watch TV. There was nothing open; there was nothing anyone could do. All we could do is stay still. I read a lot as well when I got tired of TV, but the solitude of the two weeks to slow the curve turning into five months of isolation, got the best of me; and I simply just didn't care anymore if the virus got me and killed me because what I was doing wasn't a life worth living. What I was doing was simply just existing.

I never lived my life like that. I don't just exist. I like to stay busy, and I like to have things to do. Watching TV, while it happens to pass the time, isn't having something to do. I eventually took some time to knit scarves, the only thing I can seem to be capable of knitting and even worked on some embroidery. I made an assortment of baby gifts, engagement gifts, and I even finally opened up that last pillowcase set I bought more than a decade before and started to embroider all those tiny flowers.

When the weather got a little warmer, I was at least able to go out and ride my bike on one of the numerous trails in the area. I was so glad I wasn't in one of the states that actually felt a need to close trails and beaches that resulted in arrests of people who were engaged in some kayaking by themselves or fishing. It all seemed so crazy.

That cloud of virus didn't chase me down the street, but the virus did eventually come to my doorstep in September; I got sick. At the time, word of the supposed deadly Delta variant had been circulating in the news. I assume that is the one that finally managed to find me. Of course tests really never tested for variations whether it was Omicron or Delta or Beta or anything else; the tests just showed SARS-COVID 19.

I will never actually know where or how the virus invaded my body, but I do know somewhere around the beginning of September, the virus crawled its way into my body and the result wasn't going to be easy. It was, in fact, going to start an entire malevolent chapter in my life, which I am still living in. I've had difficult times before; this time was going to be potentially more than what I could survive on my own.

I developed symptoms somewhere around September 10, 2021. My biggest assumption at the time was that I didn't have COVID. I was actually under the impression that I had a very early strain of it years ago; and I didn't know, at that time, you could get it a second time. There was never much in terms of clear information as to how the virus presents itself. It seemed like this virus could appear as anything.

I didn't think I had any of the beginning signs or symptoms of the disease. From what I had heard, it sometimes starts with a sore throat or a headache, but I didn't have a sore throat. I didn't have a headache; I didn't lose taste or smell either. I had a little bit of a fever and developed what I believed to simply be an upper respiratory infection. I generally get sick with a respiratory infection every year, so it didn't surprise me that I was feeling that familiar burning in my lungs. I usually have a low-grade fever with it as well so that didn't concern me. I figured I would just be ill for a week or so, and it would get better. I was wrong.

I called in sick to work on Monday and Tuesday of that week, when I woke up Wednesday, I knew something was different. I got up and tried to get to the bathroom, just that short walk left me sucking air, trying to breathe. I made a phone call to a friend who told me that maybe it was time that I call 911 when I explained to him how much of a problem I was having breathing that morning.

I decided I would call an ambulance or drive myself to the hospital, but first I had to do a few things. I needed to make sure the windows in my house were closed because it was supposed to get hot, and I needed to be sure the air was on for my furry animals. The process of closing the eight windows in my house took way too long and took way too much energy. I barely remember, but I am pretty sure I had to stop to try to get a good breath of air into my lungs a couple of times. That should have been a warning sign to call faster. But I just continued my list of things I wanted to do before I left.

If I was going to go to the hospital, I might want a bag in case I have to stay, and I might want some things with me. In hindsight, I didn't pack nearly enough, and I would have to ask friends to deliver things to the hospital to try to make my stay there a little more tolerable. I packed some things and then, just like you always want to wear clean underwear in the event you are in an accident, I decided that I needed to brush my teeth before going out. After all, I had woken up about two hours before this point, and I couldn't let morning breath affect those who would be treating me in the hospital.

When I got into the bathroom to brush my teeth, that was the first time I saw myself that morning. That's when I realized just how much trouble I was in. I looked dead.