3 years of pandemic: Anxiety weighed on me like a rock during my 10-day ordeal

The first week of April 2021. India was in the grip of the second wave of COVID-19. On the evening of April 8, I developed a chill, accompanied by fever. I took a pill to bring down the temperature before going to bed. The fever subsided at night, but rose again in the morning. I had developed a sore throat along with a persistent cough.

I thought it better to go to the nearest doctor. The doctor gave me medication. I got some relief but it was not enough. Three days later, the doctor wrote some tests. The report that came in the evening said I had typhoid. The doctor started a course for typhoid. But when that did not give me relief, he decided it was time to go for the COVID-19 test.

Those days, the fear of the second wave was all-pervasive. Reports of someone or the other dying came in almost every day. Given the state of affairs, I purchased an oximeter and repeatedly checked my oxygen levels with it.

Two days later, the COVID-19 report came negative, but due to chest pain and a low oxygen level, I thought it better to get a CT scan of my chest done. By then, my wife had also developed symptoms.

I took the chest reports of both of us to another doctor. The doctor told me that my wife and I had been infected with the novel coronavirus and it had started affecting our lungs. When I told him that the COVID-19 test had come negative and the one for typhoid was positive, the doctor replied that this was happening a lot but that we had COVID-19 and not typhoid.

In the second wave, the contagion had reached the lower respiratory tract, leading to falling oxygen levels among patients. By evening, my oxygen level was not going above 92-93 and sometimes, it was going below 90. It had been 10 days since I got sick and I couldn’t sleep the entire night of April 18. Time and again, I was checking myself and my wife’s oxygen levels.

The heartening thing was that my wife’s oxygen level was not decreasing below 98, but my oxygen level was rotating around 90. The restlessness was growing. By then, there was chaos all over the country and hospitals were full.

I had already messaged my colleagues that I might have to get myself admitted to the hospital. My friends had been trying on their own. But nothing was being arranged.

I couldn’t sleep until morning. All night, I kept thinking about who to call in the morning to either arrange a bed in a hospital or arrange an oxygen cylinder. But it didn’t seem possible.

I messaged an old senior colleague in the morning. He said he would try to arrange something. Due to his efforts, I got an appointment with a doctor in a big  Faridabad hospital. Interestingly, the day I got my chest CT scan done, I also got an RT-PCR test done again, but its report did not come.

When I somehow reached the hospital with my wife, I was shocked to see the crowds gathered there. The doctor examined us and advised my wife to go home with a five-day course of medicine, while asking me to get admitted.

My wife somehow reached home in an autorickshaw. Due to the lockdown, traffic was not normal then. So a big problem was to commute from one place to another.

I was admitted to the emergency ward after necessary formalities. Maybe the beds weren’t empty until then. I was in the emergency ward for about six hours. I was administered oxygen.

The condition of the patients lying nearby was worse than me. But all my attention was on my oximeter. At night, I was shifted to a bed. The oxygen tube was put in my nose. I started taking medicines.

The oxygen level was oscillating between 90 and 95. Everything was fine. But my anxiety was so strong that I kept doubting and worrying as to whether there had been any shortcoming in my treatment.

I had my mobile with me. So whenever I opened Facebook, the news of someone’s death would make me restless, scared. There were reports of hospitals running out of oxygen. There was also news of deaths of some of my acquaintances due to lack of oxygen.

So the first thing I did was to stop watching Facebook and news. Instead, I started watching jokes or comedy videos. I also started listening to old songs. But my fear didn't go.

I couldn’t sleep even at night. Doctors and nurses used to check my oxygen with oximeters three times a day. I had ordered an oximeter from the hospital’s pharmacy. Which was almost double the price.

Once it happened that the batteries of the oximeter ran out. I called my friends. Due to the lockdown, shops were closed and roads were sealed. Yet two friends somehow managed to get the cells to me.

The report of the second test I got done from Faridabad’s largest and only Badshah Khan district hospital did not come even after five days.

That is, till then, I was not officially a COVID-19 patient, but I was being treated like one. In fact, almost all of those admitted to the hospital were being treated like COVID-19 patients.

Five days later, at my behest, a fellow reporter somehow arranged the report, in which I was declared COVID-19 positive. My wife’s five-day medication at home had expired. Her condition was improving.

But my fear was being an impediment in the improvement of my condition. My psychological condition was deteriorating due to lack of sleep at night and an obsessive thought that I was not being treated properly. I used to scold myself and repeatedly check my oximeter.

I had neither fever, cough nor any kind of chest problem, but still felt sick due to restlessness and anxiety. I returned home about 10 days later, but still felt afraid due to the fear and anxiety weighing on my mind.

On the last day, I also consulted a mental health professional. He gave me sleeping pills and said I needed lots of sleep.

My blood sugar had increased during treatment, which later returned to normal. In order to avoid low oxygen levels during sleep, one of my family members would keep vigil at night, wake me up and check the oxygen level by installing an oximeter.

Today, when I remember that time, I laugh at myself and feel a sense of gratitude towards my friends, colleagues and family.

A month later, I went back to the doctor. The oxygen level was around 95. The doctor said it would be fine. It would take time for everything to go back to normal.

Two years have passed since then. Not everything has gone well. I keep going to the doctor. My blood sugar is under control, but I have been put on blood pressure medication.

The fear of COVID-19 has subsided. But now that many deaths due to cardiac arrests are being reported everyday, I feel fear and anxiety again. 

The author is a special correspondent at Down to Earth, Hindi and this is a personal recollection of his ordeal 

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