After a fantastic week diving in Sudan aboard Blue Force 3, on March 11, two days after disembarking, we received the first "surprising" news of how the virus was progressing in Spain.
We departed on the 5th with about 80 cases of infection and I think a couple of deaths, I do not remember well, and when some of the group could contact via text messages with their families, on Wednesday 11, the numbers had skyrocketed: more than 2,000 infected and nearly 100 dead. None of the members of the diving group imagined, not by a long shot, what was going to happen in Spain and in general in the whole world and much less, what was going to happen to me, in the next few days...
It is fair to say that the COVID-19 nightmare began to grow in our minds that Wednesday at about the same rate as the blissful virus was doing.
LANDING IN PORT SUDAN AND ARRIVAL TO SPAIN
Curiously, it was not very hot in Port Sudan that day, March 13. It was sprinkling and the sky was completely overcast. Three days earlier the heat was a bit oppressive, even though it was March, and Teresa and I decided to sleep that night with the air conditioner on - wrong! The next day I had sinus symptoms, something that happens to me about once a year if I get a little careless with hot/cold situations. A little sinus pain and maybe a few tenths, didn't stop me from doing the last dives of the trip.
We landed around 11:30, arrived at the airport and... the ordeal of the first part of the return began. Infinite slowness to check in, multiple controls in the immigration area and the worst, the six or seven hours we were waiting for the flight to leave, it seems that because of a storm, in a room that was no more than 200m2. All the passengers of the plane, I do not know the exact number but we could be about 250 people, confined in a room with only one bathroom. As a "curious" fact, there were about 50 or 60 Italians traveling back to Rome, many of them already wearing masks.
We finally left and flew directly to Dubai. If there had been no delay we would have made a technical stopover in Khartoum, but with the new situation, it was not necessary. We arrived in Dubai around 1:30 am, six more hours of stopover, in a great airport, and at 7:25 am we left on what according to the Emirates flight attendants, the company we were flying with, was the last flight to Spain because of what was happening with the COVID-19.
Since we left Port Sudan the sinusitis seemed to be increasing: mild headache and not very high fever that appeared every 6/7 hours. I was anxious to get to Madrid to be able to treat it with antibiotics so that it would go away quickly. In the meantime, during the trip, paracetamol and to hold on.
12:30 on the 14th. Arrival in Madrid, no temperature check on arrival, passport control as in any other trip, suitcases and to Mercadona to do the shopping. Our fridge was in "eco" mode and had to be replenished. At that time there were no security measures in the supermarket, there were quite a lot of people and everyone acted normally, i.e. no gloves, no masks and no safety distance when paying.
That same Saturday I started taking antibiotics. Three shots, one every 24 hours, hoping that in three or four days the sinusitis would say goodbye so that I could be at home, although confined, but living a "normal life", so to speak. There was some fever at night but nothing relevant.
On Monday 16th Teresa returned to work at TV (TVE). It was really her first and last "face-to-face" day. Being treated with medication for her asthma, she was considered a person at risk and was authorized to do remote work. Something that in the following weeks, I was infinitely grateful for.
I had almost no more headaches, I am talking about that same Monday, I had no fever and although I was a little tired, it seemed that the improvement was coming. Nothing could be further from the truth. In a few days the "real party" in my body was going to start...
NEW SYMPTOMS AND FALLING DOWN
On the 17th new symptoms appeared. My throat started to ache a little, the tiredness and muscle aches were showing up, and the headache seemed to be coming back again. Some of the symptoms were different from what I had had other times with sinusitis, but reading a little about it, it seemed that they were normal for the disease itself.
The next day, the fatigue was even greater, I could hardly get out of bed and the headache grew exponentially. But when everything went off, it was from the 19th or the 20th, I do not remember well. Fever that exceeded 39 degrees, extreme tiredness, unbearable headache and from time to time tremors and convulsions in bed. One day at night I even lost consciousness when I tried to get up, I imagine to go to the bathroom. I say I imagine because I only remember the action of getting up. After a while, already in bed, without really knowing how, I woke up and noticed that my face and nose hurt. I wiped my hand and realized that I had several bumps and scratches. I called Teresa, it must have been 4 am, and she came to see what was wrong. I asked her if I had something on my face and she said yes, I had several bumps. She was quite surprised because I didn't really know what to tell her. I didn't remember when I had done it and what I had hit. Even to this day, I still can't believe what happened at that moment....
My feeling of discomfort continued to increase and I could hardly move. In addition, little by little I was losing the desire to eat. Fortunately, as I said before, Teresa was at home and took care of me like the best nurse in the world. If it had not been for her, for her attention, love and care, it would have been impossible to endure what I was going through.
Because the truth is, I don't remember having been in such a hard situation in my life, I'm sure I've never been so bad. There were days I cried from the headache I had and others I thought my body could not stand the discomfort I was going through. Almost every minute I was sick, I had no respite.
On Saturday 21st Teresa called again to the COVID number in Madrid and as I did not have shortness of breath, they recommended us to stay at home. It could be a positive case but for the moment there was no reason to go to the hospital, besides, the news we were given of how the hospitals were were not very hopeful: everything saturated, people in the corridors ... a scenario worthy of a science fiction movie.
My great friend Mateo, an emergency doctor, who was following me every day by phone from Almería, and my family doctor at Sanitas, agreed that I had to take antibiotics again, a different and more effective one, to fight against sinusitis and eliminate my symptoms.
On Monday 23rd nothing had changed, I was still the same or worse, especially with the tremendous headache and extreme tiredness. That day we talked to the Sanitas doctor and he recommended us to do a sinus x-ray to see if I really had the sinusitis. We went to the clinic in Boadilla in the afternoon, around 4 pm, but before going, I decided to take a shower to clean myself up a bit. It was hard for me to stand up and enter the bathroom, but it was even harder to move my arms to wash my head, for example. Something as usual as that, taking a shower, was an ordeal for me. But the worst came later... I was so tired that when I finished drying myself, when I hung up the towel, I got hooked to it, half hanging, so as not to fall to the floor. My body could hardly take it anymore. I kept panting and asking myself what's wrong with me? At that moment I was wondering how I was going to be able to go to the clinic to get my breast x-ray. I had no strength! I don't know where I got some energy and with the help of Teresa, who carried me around the house and then down the street as if I were an old man, I was able to get there, do the x-ray and get back home, almost in time for all my ailments to come back again and get into bed immediately.
The next day I had an appointment at the otorhinic doctor's office to see the results. It was also in the afternoon, but in my pitiful state it was very complicated to go to the consultation. Teresa called and was told that she could go herself. I do not remember well if I had to be at the doctor at 18h, but what I will never forget was the brutal headache I had about an hour before. I went into total despair. I think I was almost delirious. Teresa was standing next to me, looking at me with her eyes wide open and her hand covering her mouth. I kept tossing and turning on the bed begging to the most sacred thing to take away the pain. It was unbearable. I kept asking him to tell the doctor to send me whatever he could to relieve me because I was completely at my limit.
After half an hour, the pain went down a little and with an infinite concern, you only had to see her face, Teresa went to the clinic. She came back an hour later but without any result, the doctor could not leave the hospital where she was and she could not go to the clinic in Boadilla. The medicines I had taken had made me a little effect and my head hurt a little less, but not having the indications of a specialist to improve my sinusitis or whatever it was, I sank into misery, if possible, a little more than I was.
Looking for an alternative, on Wednesday 25th we contacted my family doctor at Sanitas and he was the one who told us that the sinusitis was evident as well as very strong. He told me to continue with the antibiotic and to take painkillers every 6 hours. But he also told me that I might have COVID. It was already many days bad and with obvious symptoms. But I was still breathing well when I was at rest, a fact that was still definitive for not going to the hospital, according to the protocol.
I do not know if what was happening to me was worthy or not to go to the emergency room, but I was having a hard time as in my life, I tell you that yes. There were times that Teresa saw me so bad with the tremors, she hugged me over the comforter. Other times she would lie in bed with me to try to keep me company while I raged with pain. The discomfort seemed like it would never end and my body would explode.
END OF THE FEVER AND THE START OF A NEW STAGE
That same Wednesday Teresa ordered a pulse oximeter from the pharmacy. Seeing my condition we thought it was important to know what my oxygen saturation was. The device arrived the next day, just when the fever disappeared and the headache began to subside a little. To our surprise, when he first put the "pulsi" on my finger, I think it was in the morning, the saturation was 89%. When a person is healthy, saturation is between 95 and 99% so the picture for me was starting to look different now with such low saturation....
I had been in bed for many days and I could not appreciate very well the level of fatigue that I could have when I moved. It is true that when I got out of the shower that famous day my fatigue was brutal, but as I usually went back to bed and breathed well, we did not give it more importance.
But with such a low saturation the situation could get very complicated. A few hours later we checked my saturation again and... 93% with peaks of 94. Without being able to know and checking again that same night that it was still between 93 and 94, we decided to see how everything evolved the next day.
Without fever, with a very slight headache, with a saturation equal to the night before and above all, feeling a little better, Friday morning I decided to go downstairs to have breakfast in the living room. I sat for a few hours, watched some TV and after eating I went back to bed. To my surprise, after climbing the 17 steps back to my room, I was very tired and was breathing very hard. I lay down on the bed, recovered my breathing in no time, we checked the saturation and... 93/94%. Breathing returned to normal and that was the end of that Friday.
Between Saturday and the following Tuesday, the days were much the same. I was not feeling bad although the saturation was still at 93% with some peak of 94. But there were two very simple actions that made me think that something was not working. Understanding that I was a little better, I encouraged myself on one occasion to cut ham, something that made me extremely tired. I cut three or four pieces and could not continue, I had to sit down. And another one was, following my thought of improvement, I don't remember the day, to try to make a salad. After 10 minutes standing in the kitchen, I had to stop.
Thanks to the fact that my mother and my sister started to move my sick leave, the social security health center in Boadilla, the area of Madrid where we live, contacted me to see how I was doing. The first contact was on Tuesday 31st to see what was wrong with me and to give me the sick leave, and the second contact was already made by my family doctor, a lovely doctor, just the next day, April 1st, around 3 pm, to see how I was feeling. I gave her again all kinds of explanations of what had happened to me, insisting on my saturation and my great fatigue when doing things like the ones I have told before. Her recommendation, with some insistence, was that I go to the emergency room of the Puerta de Hierro hospital to have a chest x-ray and rule out possible pulmonary conditions.
All said and done. My driver, Teresa, took me to the hospital. At 17:30 I was going into the emergency room to have that chest x-ray. Even with that 93/94 saturation I was feeling more or less fine and thought that the hospital visit was a mere formality.
ENTRY IN THE EMERGENCY ROOM AND A RESULT OF THE PLATE CHEST
Everything I had seen on television about crowded hospitals had nothing to do with this hospital. It was not crowded, which is normal for an emergency room, and everything was in order. The only major difference was that all the medical staff wore masks, gloves, screens and other protective clothing, something I had only seen on TV up to that point.
Teresa stayed in the car, it was the most prudent thing to do, because I haven't mentioned it before, but she was fine, she didn't show any symptoms of anything. Thank goodness!
After a while I was called to what they call "triage", where they assess you beforehand to determine the urgency of the problem. My blood pressure was a little high and my saturation was 96%. I think this happens a lot, you get to the doctor and nothing hurts anymore... "Alright I thought, I'll get the x-ray and go home". I told the nurse what I had gone to and she told me that I had to see a doctor first so that he could decide what action to take.
During the wait, already in another room, I was texting Teresa to tell her what was going on. The poor thing was still in the car waiting to take me home. It had been an hour and a half since I had entered the emergency room and the wait was getting a little long.
I was finally greeted by a doctor. I explained everything again and emphasized that my visit to the hospital was for the chest x-ray ordered by my family doctor. Seeing my saturation and my apparent good condition, she told me that she did not really know what I was doing there. When I insisted a bit that I had gone by order of my doctor for the famous chest x-ray, he agreed and gave the order for it to be done.
After waiting for another long time, where at times I was alone in the waiting room, I was finally called. I was even able to applaud inside the hospital at 8 pm, something exciting to be with the health personnel there.
Well, one minute and the plate was done! All that was left was for them to give it to me or to tell me that I could go home. Since everything was digital, the result was in my file and my doctor could see it the next day without any problems.
But no, I kept waiting for another long time. It had been almost four hours since my entrance. Teresa was still in the car, a little cold, bored out of her mind. I kept texting her to plan what we were going to have for dinner that night.
And finally, in room "number 15", at about 10 pm, they called me to come in. And the doctor's first sentence, already with a different face, was: "I'm sorry, but I don't have good news". I fixed my eyes on hers and asked her what was wrong. She told me straight out that I had Extensive Bilateral Pneumonia. According to the hospital assessment grade 3, the highest. He showed me the x-ray and when I saw it, it looked like my lungs had been machine-gunned, they were full of little white dots all over the place. One lung was 100% affected and the other 66%. He told me that it was a consequence of the COVID and that I had to be admitted at that moment because my situation was serious.
My legs started to shake. I told him that I felt fine and that I preferred not to go in. He measured my saturation and vital signs again and the parameters were getting worse by the minute: 15/10 blood pressure, 120 pulses and saturation 93%. He told me that I had to have an EKG and a complete CBC. Depending mainly on the results of the tests, there might be a slight chance of not being admitted, but in his opinion, it was best to do it.
His work was ending at that time. He sent me the tests and told me that the results would be evaluated by another doctor. He said goodbye to me in a very affectionate way and wished me to get better as soon as possible. I left the consultation crestfallen and quite down. I spoke to Teresa to update her, she was shocked by the news, but I told her not to worry, that there was still hope that the tests would come back good and I could go home.
Soon after I was called for the EKG, blood gas and CBC. They did everything and told me to wait in a different room to be seen by the new doctor.
After almost another hour, maybe a little less, waiting for the results of the tests, a doctor came out of a consulting room and called my name: "Carlos Simón, please come in and sit down". She did not beat around the bush, she told me that the tests had not come back favorable and with the severe pneumonia I had, I had to be admitted. There was no choice.
A very strange feeling invaded my body and I was speechless for a few seconds. When I reacted, I asked her if there was an option to do any treatment at home and not to be admitted. And at that moment, tactfully but forcefully, she explained to me very clearly what was the real reason for my admission and how the situation with the virus was at that moment.
"Carlos, your situation is serious. You have COVID insurance and as a result your lungs are very bad. If you go home, after signing a document, with a lot of luck you could get better, but if you don't, you could have such a respiratory failure that the ambulance will not arrive in time. We want to admit you to try to save your life. We are realizing that the virus does not only affect older people or people with previous pathologies, the virus also attacks other people. And currently, the sector most affected and most at risk is that of "healthy" men between 40 and 55 years old".
I was in shock and didn't really know what to say to her. But her next words were even more "forceful" and made me react: "The first 24h of the treatment are crucial to see how you evolve. If your body reacts well, you will go up and you will almost certainly get out of this (making an upward gesture with her outstretched hand), but if your body does not react well to the medication, things could definitely get complicated (the gesture with her hand at that moment was downward)". I don't know if my legs were shaking more or less than before, after this "graphic explanation". At that moment I lowered my head, remained silent and seconds later I thought: "I'm really screwed. I'm one of the statistics, for the moment of those infected. But soon... will I also be part of the cured or the deceased statistics?" I swallowed my breath, assimilated what was happening, looked up and said to the doctor: "I totally understand the situation and I put myself in your hands. It is time to fight the virus together." She smiled slightly and told me it was the right decision. Seconds later she signed my admission order and began to prepare my treatment.
HOSPITALIZATION
I left the office and the first thing I did was to call Teresa: "Honey, I'm being hospitalized, the tests didn't come back good". Her voice cracked but she held her breath well. I told her that I would tell her more over the next few hours, although the next thing was practically the admission. I then spoke to my sister and told her to gently tell my mother. Soon after, my friend Mateo, the doctor from Almeria, called me and I also told him the news. After talking to everyone, an inner silence invaded me, although after a few minutes hundreds of questions came to my mind.
“How can I die? People is dying for this! Will I be the next? What I will never scuba dive? Do you already I'm not going to see more people that I want?” To, for, I said to myself. Karlitos, now's the time to calm down and think positive. Outside, fears within and thoughts with energy, everything is going to be alright, there are still options.”
And more questions came to my mind: “Where I've got the fever? What airports? What Mercadona? What did Teresa of the tv and got me? She is well! Where have you been?” These questions were impossible to answer, because it could have been anywhere between days 13 and 16.
The safety distance between people is super important, and wash their hands too, but... what if the virus is in an area? The virus does not see and can be in any place. But while you are still alive, which can be up to 96 hours in tickets, plastics, stainless steel and "face masks", according to some studies, may be able to infect anyone who comes in contact with him.
A few minutes after leaving the office, the emergency nurses put me on oxygen and gave me the first "cocktail of drugs". I don't know how many pills they were or what they were for, but I honestly didn't care. I just hoped they would start working as soon as possible.
During the next three hours that I spent in the waiting room of the emergency room, before making the actual admission to the ward, I saw many people walk past me. They were being tested, they were waiting, they were going into the consulting rooms and all, without exception, while I was there, were leaving with their discharge. I applauded quietly and was infinitely happy. But I could not help thinking that my situation was different and that I... was hospitalized.
Around 1:30 am, I spoke to Teresa for the last time that night. I told her I was fine and we said goodbye with the most sincere and heartfelt "I love you" of our entire relationship. An hour later, an orderly picked me up in a wheelchair, so he could carry the oxygen tank properly, and took me to my room. We passed several hallways until we came to an elevator with big red stickers on it that read, "RESTRICTED ZONE - COVID." This is serious, I thought, I'm entering the real contagious zone. "Holy shit", now if I'm one of those I've seen on TV....
We got out of the elevator on the third floor, I was "welcomed" by the nurses and at the end of an endless corridor full of silence, there was my room: E301.1, which I shared with another boy about my age. They gave me very clear indications that I could not leave the room under any circumstances and then I got into bed with the oxygen on, the little tubes they call "whiskers" and at 3 am I was officially hospitalized.
The next day, or rather, a few hours later, around 7:30, a nurse came in to take my blood for a new blood test. At 8:30, they gave us breakfast and the next cocktail of medicines, and at about 9:30 another nurse came in to take my vital signs. Blood pressure, pulse and saturation and to her surprise, when she looked at the % of oxygen she saw that I had 99%. She said to me: "Carlos, this is great, you are at maximum! Wait a minute, I'm going to take you off oxygen and see what happens". He waited about 5 minutes and the saturation dropped only to 97%. "No oxygen at 97%? What are you made of?" the nice nurse said to me. Seeing that, she decided to take me off oxygen for good. Before leaving, she told me that in a while the doctor would come by to tell me how the tests had gone and how my evolution was going. Already more relaxed about seeing 97 on the screen, I waited anxiously for the doctor's visit.
At about 11:00 a.m., the doctor came in. She stood at the head of my bed on the right side, pulled down her mask and with a big smile said to me: "The drugs are working, but we don't know yet how they have worked so fast in your body. We are a little freaked out. Your lungs must be very strong because if not, it doesn't make sense this big improvement. I told the doctor that I had never smoked, that I had been diving for 33 years and that within my possibilities I was also freediving. And she told me: "Well, that is what could have saved your life. Carlos, this afternoon we will discharge you. You are one of the patients who has been admitted to our hospital with a case of COVID with Extensive Bilateral Grade 3 Pneumonia. Congratulations!”
If the doctor's smile was big, mine turned my head. On April 2nd I had been given perhaps the best news of my life. My partner was very happy and he was at 92% saturation with direct oxygen in a mask. But just as it happened to me when I saw people leaving the emergency room with their discharge, it happened to him. There is no better news than seeing people leaving the hospital. I called Teresa first, then my family and then Mateo. They were all very happy, this was already looking good.
Before leaving, they gave me the treatment I had to follow at home: antiviral, three and a half days more. And from then on, to observe me in case there was any relapse and if not, a relaxed normal life. Two weeks of isolation at home and from then on, new tests to see how my evolution was going. According to the protocol, they were not going to do any more COVID tests, it was assumed that with the antiviral, my evolution and the two weeks, it would disappear completely.
At 5:30 p.m. on that unforgettable day, April 2, I was walking out the front door of Puerta de Hierro Hospital. A piece of hospital where I was given the worst and the best news of my life in a very short period of time.
HOME RECOVERY AND THE REASON FOR THIS STORY
Returning home with that good news is something difficult to explain. I was with contained joy, but very happy. Now I had to follow the treatment and be very attentive. The window that the doctor left open when she said that if I noticed any worsening I should return to the hospital, it was a little upsetting, but I felt quite well and above all full of strength to fight against the virus and against whatever might come. It's true that psychologically you come out of it quite touched after what has happened to you, but you can't let yourself be carried away by the ghosts for a long time, you have to look forward energetically and look for positivity every minute.
And besides arming yourself psychologically, you have to strengthen those lungs physically. The advice of some doctor friends of mine and other friends who had gone through the same thing as me, like my friend Quim, are gradually making my improvement go better and my saturation goes up, some days, to 98%. Respiratory physiotherapy is one of the keys for the lungs to recover and come out of the pneumonia in the best possible way. I still do not know the consequences that COVID can have in these cases, but I will fight every day to get my lungs back to 100%, that is for sure.
And not only medications, my head and exercises are good to keep going and have a good recovery. There is something very important too and they are... "yours". Teresa, my mother, my sister, my brothers-in-law, my nephews, my uncles, my cousins, the rest of my family, Mateo, my friends and all the people who follow me in the RRSS, pushed me so much, which was undoubtedly another of the keys to start thinking that YES I COULD. For this, I give infinite thanks to all of you.
With this story, I wanted to tell you in a very forceful way what the virus can do to a person like me: healthy, athletic and moderately young (52 years old). It is true that it affects older people and people of other ages with previous pathologies, but it also affects young people, especially, from what you are seeing, men between 40 and 55 years old. It is a "very nasty" virus that has a surprise in store for us every day. And this is what many people are still not understanding, they think that the virus does not go with them, and as you can see, it can shake you at any time. As they say... " the proof of the pudding is in the eating".
This virus is no joke. In Spain there are almost 17,000 dead and in the world there are already more than 100,000. It is true that in our country it seems that things are improving, but we must not let our guard down and even less so when we start to go out on the street. If one is careless, breaks the rules and skips the current confinement, you can end up infected or spreading it. There are people who have it but do not know it, they are the famous asymptomatic. That is why it is so important to stay at home, protect yourself and others. If we all follow these rules until the day we can go out, we will be able to fight against the virus and put an end to it.
Go for COVID-19!
