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When you are unexpectedly knocked on your ass...

So, as we know, it had been quite a while since my last two posts so before we move forward with everything going on now, I think we need to backtrack a little and catch you up to speed.

My last post was about turning 40 and how it feels so much better than it did at 30. I am lighter, I am healthier and I am so much happier than the last decade.

For my 40th, Erick and I decided to take a trip to Vegas for the weekend to get away and start the decade off with some fun. It was probably one of the best trips in a long time because we just overall had an amazing time. We laughed a ton, we walked around, we ordered room service and just chilled and we came back with money for once!

It was one of those crazy occurrences where every time we sat to play some slots, we would win! (Now before you start hitting me up out of the blue for money, I'll save you the trouble. I didn't become Oprah rich, LOL). We didn't hit some crazy jackpot or anything but when you spend your adulthood losing money or barely breaking even, it was such a euphoria to leave Vegas not feeling shamed, disgusted and broke LOL. This time we left with huge ass smiles on our faces, having had a great little getaway to jumpstart a new decade of shenanigans!

A week after being in Vegas, we went from such an amazing high to the craziest of lows. Erick tested positive for Covid and it hit him pretty hard. When he tested positive, we decided I would sleep on the couch downstairs and stay away from him as much as possible. As each hour was progressing, he was getting worse. Fever, aches, chills, horrendous coughing, and utter depletion. He had no energy to do anything, eat anything or say anything. He was sequestered in the bedroom and I was his personal nurse for 2 weeks. After he tested positive, I went to get tested and a couple days later mine came back positive as well but thankfully, I didn't feel anything. Just to be safe and to hopefully prevent getting the same symptoms, I made sure I was taking what he was taking, minus the Tylenol. I had him on a regimen of Tylenol, vitamins, emergenC, electrolytes, light walking and light soups. I have never Instacarted so much in my life than I did in those two weeks, LOL (You are welcome Instacart, you took my Vegas winnings you betch! HAHAHA)

I had to work remotely during that time as we had to quarantine. My day consisted of bringing him food and vitamins, washing and sanitizing everything he touched, constantly changing sheets and towels, getting him up and moving, cooking cleaning, extra laundry and all while trying to get work done (which consisted working at night into the wee hours to catch up). All while trying to sleep on couches that weren't meant to sleep on (Note to self: Don't buy leather recliner couches in the future, in case you have to sleep on them for 2 weeks, LOL)

Needless to say, my body and brain were physically and emotionally depleted. I wasn't getting enough rest, I was worried about him and doing everything I could think of to bounce him back.

The really shitty thing about this whole 2 years is the amount of fear that was instilled from the news. One of the reasons I don't want the news or much tv anymore personally. You look at a positive test as the beginning of the end. The thoughts that go through your mind built from that fear are soul crushing. He lost his sense of smell and taste and he was freaked out. We both were.

The next day, he was still so bummed about his lack of taste and smell that we tried to visualize it coming back and reiterating that it was just temporary. His voice was soft those few days because he was so weak. I would get him out of the bedroom and go downstairs so he could go for a short 2 min walk to get some sunlight and then had him sit in the living room so he could have a change of scenery. It also gave me a chance to mask up, sanitize the bedroom and clean everything. I have an office upstairs, so while he was downstairs, I was in the office trying to play catch up and keep busy.

I'm trying to keep my shit together from having a meltdown because even though I tested positive, I still never had a single symptom and I knew if I went down too, we were both screwed. So I immersed myself into work, and trying to be productive. All of a sudden I hear this "Holy Shit!" come out of him from a guy who has been meek for 2 days now. I dropped everything and I ran downstairs thinking something horrible had happened. I almost ate shit from olympic jumping down the stairs. I get to him and scream out, "What, what happened?!"

"I can smell and taste again!"

"Jesus man, you can't do that shit to me, I thought something horrible happened!"

He was so elated though and I was too because I had heard people spent weeks or months before it came back but we kept telling ourselves it was just temporary and visualized it coming back? Is that what made it come back sooner? Who knows but I am okay to choose to believe that his mindset overcame it!

Even though that was amazing news, by the next day, he felt worse. It just wasn't getting better. By now I haven't slept much in days and I was emotionally drained. I couldn't let on to him that I was scared and worried because that would freak him out too so I had to suck up everything I had in me to stay positive and motivating while around him and then when he was sleeping and I was alone with my thoughts, it was a waking nightmare.

I had visions of ventilators and hospitals and funeral arrangements because that was what was instilled for 1 year and a half now. I was terrified, which is probably why I was so strict with his regimen and I had him walking a few steps when he didn't want to, or the vitamins or anything else we were taking at the time. I had to be focused on the bigger picture, not the immediate issue. I was a stickler and at times he was probably irritated at me but there was a moment during the peak of this where he gave me a concerned look that will be forever etched in my brain. He was genuinely scared. Seeing that look that I never saw before hit me in my deepest being. I never wanted to see that again! Not on my watch!

But I kept having flashbacks that night of the look on his face and I finally had a complete meltdown by myself. I am not a cryer and I was ugly crying. My mind was playing reels of potential outcomes and my heart just couldn't handle those images. I cried so much that I woke up the next morning, after a couple hours of sleep, stuffed up.

However because of the sleep deprivation, I didn't realize I was stuffy. I was cooking some soup in the morning to have it for later and I was cutting the garlic and onion and noticed I couldn't smell it...

I panicked...

OMG, it's happening to me now, I lost my sense of smell! I can't get sick like him because who will take care of us?! I had to test it.

I grabbed a lysol wipe and tried to smell it, nothing.

I grabbed the alcohol and took a big whiff, nothing.

I grabbed one of my body sprays and sprayed it on me, nothing

I grabbed a stronger perfume that I never wear and inhaled it, nothing

This is it! This is the end. We are both going to die now. This is going to be our demise!

I couldn't even tell him because I didn't want him to freak out. I was a shit show the rest of the day wondering the other symptoms might hit me.

And then I sneezed an I wigged out. OMG here we go!

I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. I noticed I was extremely stuffy. Wait, how long have I been stuffy? Do I have it officially now?? Wait, how am I noticing only now that I am stuffy. My depleted brain is trying to wrap my head around everything because I was so tired.

And then I occurred to me. I forgot I had a total meltdown a few hours back. I was stuffy because I was crying. I couldn't smell because I was so stuffy. It created this mini snowball of events and because I was tired, I couldn't put two and two together.

A couple hours later, I noticed my nose wasn't stuffy anymore and I could smell again! PHEW!

But unfortunately the damage had been done and for the next three days, my nostrils were burning from inhale breathing in strong products. I thought I had forever damaged my sinuses because I succumbed to the fear. Thank GOODNESS it finally went away after a couple of days.

Eventually, we took him to an urgent care and we got him a Zpack, inhaler and stronger cough medicine to help. By the time the evening came, he was feeling slightly better. Maybe it was psychological, maybe it was hopefulness, I dunno but he was finally turning a corner. Each day thereafter, he was feeling slightly better, starting to laugh a little again and each day he was moving a little more than the day before. In the beginning, I had him walking a couple feet a few times a day. Then it progressed to 20-30 feet and back and by the beginning of week 2, we were walking around the complex in the sun and he was getting stronger.

I had heard stuff on the news about it turning into pneumonia or having long term issues and I was tried of how that fear was making shit worse. We decided to do it differently and instead we wanted to focus on individual small goals. Visualizing senses again, visualizing being back at the gym, taking it easy and not over doing it or rushing the healing process. We just made small changes and slowly increased from there.

We are both lucky people in that we rarely ever get sick and when we did in the past, we were down for the count. In hindsight, looking back to this, we have both been just as sick before with the flu many years ago but what was different this time? The preconceived notion that there was a chance we wouldn't survive it. Because of what we had been fed daily, seen on tv, the numbers the numbers the numbers, we saw that positive test as a death sentence and allowed that fear to overcome us.

Do not misconstrue, this wasn't fun in the least bit but had the media not portrayed it the way they did, the outcome would have been much different. Every new symptom that emerged during this created more anxiety and fear which then exasperated everything worse.

After my meltdown, I said that was it. We are going to overcome this together and we are going to bounce back stronger than healthier than ever.

I also truly believe that everything happens for a reason too. Him not working for 2 weeks was going to put a financial burden on us to afford stuff to get him healthier.

Had I not won some money in Vegas, we would have struggled.

Had we not taking control of our health and bodies years prior and built a regimen of healthier food choices and exercise, the outcome may have been totally different if we were both still obese.

Having started M.O.B.A. and building the M.O.B.A. Mindset, we would have succumbed to the negative thoughts at lot longer.

After the 2 weeks, he was close to 100% and since then he is better now than he was before getting sick. We have also continued more with healthier eating and working out more often to make sure we are always as close to the best version of ourselves as possible

Was it the mindset that got him better? We will never know for sure

Was it the pack that got him better? We will never know for sure

Was it the vitamins and electrolytes? Who knows?

Maybe it was a combo of all of the above, but I like to think it was the first option? Or at the very least, option one was the biggest driver overall.

September was a crazy month but it made us closer as a couple, woke us up to make even more better choices moving forward and presented a situation that seemed dire but overcome able and showed what we can be capable of when we put our mind to the positive end of the spectrum.

This has been one of the longest posts in quite a while but I had wanted to share this story for a while now and if you made it to this post, you are a rock star!

Thank you so much for all your support and looking forward to sharing good news updates in the next post!

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