There’s no such thing as ‘mild’ Covid – I felt like an extra from ‘Night of the Living Dead’

I’d pass for extra work on a Night of the Living Dead remake. I say “Night of the Living Dead” and not, say, “World War Z” or “28 Days Later” because the zombies there are slow-moving beasts, not the Olympian athletes that the undead monsters have become in later films. Welcome to “soft” Omicron.

I wrote for a week and a half due to mental fatigue and also lost about £100 because I was too ill to attend live music concerts I booked years ago. I got some of that money back because I didn’t have to buy food. Sometimes I woke up feeling good – at the top of the stairs – only to fall down by lunchtime. Compared to OG (Original Gangsta) Covid, I believe this is indeed considered “mild” as the NHS and government like to characterize “most” Covid infections.

In the pre-vaccination world, the OG version of Covid felt like breathing with a ton of pellets on your chest. But here’s the thing, it was also considered “easy” because I didn’t get to the hospital. I just passed out for two weeks, suffering the consequences for two months. The wife was in the worst condition. It was touch and go at one point. Most likely, she would have ended up on oxygen if the hospitals at that time were not overcrowded. She was almost in the “moderate” category, at least by medical standards.

In terms of everyday life, that day was the worst I’ve ever experienced, since I was under the wheels of a cement truck, most of my bones were broken, a lung collapsed – and much more. How easily we forget what the virus was then. Softly, it wasn’t. It was anything but this. Omicron, or some other sub-variant I contracted, was relatively mild in comparison. But that doesn’t mean it was soft. This word is really quite offensive. It was terrible.

It was a headache to begin with, but for those who haven’t experienced this special pleasure yet, remember A monkey? A monkey was a popular Japanese show in my youth in which the anti-hero villain of the title was punished for misbehaving by Tripitaka, a priest who released him from Buddha’s prison to help him on his quest (by tightening a bandage around his head).

Add to that lack of appetite, exhaustion and a nasty sore throat and cough. Life through the Omicron was (and still is) terribly frustrating and exhausting. Even after a (finally) negative test result, the excruciating fatigue remains. A few steps can feel like an Olympic marathon. This is not a normal “mild” disease. Nasty flu-like colds can knock you down, but they rarely last longer than a few days at worst. Norovirus – winter vomiting is a living hell, especially for people like me with autoimmune type 1 diabetes.

The latter greatly complicates the task. But you’re seriously out of luck if it’s delayed more than 72 hours. This? It hangs, and so on. This is even with the vaccine. Who knows what the unvaccinated version will look like. Which helps explain why that damn word “soft” is giving me problems. It makes the virus seem like something it’s not – normal, common, everyday – when in fact it’s capable of royally ruining you in a way that few everyday illnesses can rival.

Just wait until the fall and winter to butt the flu. Before you ask, no, I’m not advocating another lockdown. I really don’t. However, I would gently suggest that a few sensible precautions be considered to limit the potential nationwide side effects of this stuff, such as cold and dampness.

Right now it seems like we’re doing our best to ignore the fact that he’s with us, even though the latest UK government figures show nearly 14,000 people are in hospital with him, 175 of them on ventilators. If this wild human cost doesn’t lessen the ruffian’s gallery in Whitehall, perhaps ministers should turn their attention to the economy – especially as Britain’s current economic woes threaten to plunge a dagger into their electoral prospects?

We are already facing a nasty recession while experiencing sky-high inflation. Interest rates are moving north at a rapid pace. “Mild” Covid, if conceived, could add fuel to the fire—nearly shut down some services because people get sick. Transport systems, supply chains, delivery, schools, NHS. Especially the NHS.

If you want to get the best out of it, you want people to get well, not come in infectious and spread it around. They need to be encouraged No to do this. This means better sick pay, according to the TUC; and a word in the ears of employers. If my description of the suffering of “mild” Covid doesn’t help, perhaps the economy will.

Take it from someone who is still suffering from a hangover caused by a microscopic villain, even after a negative test result. It’s still very much with us. It’s still very disgusting. Still needs attention. And this No minor. When I hear this word on TV or YouTube, I want to throw a brick at the screen. In fact, I would like to, but the “mild” Covid has robbed me of energy. We really shouldn’t underestimate this. We have to call it what it is: bloody awful.