Member-only story
I’ve called Long Covid ‘Elsie’
She won’t go away
I’ve a newish friend who is an energy sapping soul sucker. Her name is Elsie (sorry Grandma Elsie Mae) or Long Covid.
She likes to be in control. Not all of the time, mind you. That would be too easy.
She came like a whirlwind in March 2020. One night I thought she would kill me. She didn’t. She lingered around in smelly pyjamas like a sloppy unwashed, unwanted teenage house guest.
She left for a while. I think it was for a fortnight or two, when she sponged off some other unfortunate victim. I could breathe again. She can draw the air from a room with her halitosis and B.O.
When she came back, she devoured me like a glutton. No matter how much I gave in to her, it wasn’t enough. Why did I let her back in? I had no choice.
She wasn’t all bad. She taught me how to prioritise better. She doesn’t like chemicals. My house is greener because of her. She saves me a fortune in skincare products and makeup because she can’t tolerate them on her skin. She likes to eat healthy food. She loathes alcohol.
I gave up my job and moved a few hundred miles to try to get rid of her. The cling-on followed me.
When I thought she’d found someone else to harass, I started to go on long nature hikes. I swam…
