Surviving Covid-19

It’s been days since I was discharged from the hospital and I now am sharing with you my story and some personal photos which my sister took for my family while I was in isolation.

It was on July 18 when my husband, Mon was infected with Covid-19. On July 25, I also started showing signs and symptoms. We tried to rest and recover from home. But by Sunday, August 2, my sister Joy, a pediatrician, went to our house to check on us. She said, “Your oxygen saturation is too low.  I’m taking both of you to the hospital.”

We were apprehensive because we knew that hospitals were in full capacity for Covid-19 patients but we were surprised that when we got to the emergency room, we got accommodated right away. After we were wheeled in, the guard put up a sign that said “Full Capacity”. A favor from the Lord. Thank God we got in.

Mon and I were placed in separate isolation rooms. He, in the emergency room, and I in Urgent Care, also part of the emergency room because there were no other rooms available in the Covid floors. We got tested for Covid-19 and x-rays revealed we both had pneumonia.

We were placed under the care of Dr. Jodor Lim, an infectious diseases specialist, and his wife, Dr. Susan, a pulmonologist. Dr. Jod and Dr. Susan are Joy’s in-laws. They’d come, check up on me, and pray. When I was feeling really low, I’d remember Dr. Susan’s prayer. “Thank you Lord that nothing will separate her from your love.” That prayer was lifted from Romans 8:38-39, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

In Urgent Care with Dr. Susan Lim

with Dr. Jod Lim

By August 4, Mon was transferred to a regular room. I was happy and relieved that he was responding to the treatment. “Thank God. At least my sons would still have their dad.”

I was using the high flow oxygen nasal cannula. I’d imagine I was in an airplane because of the sound the machines made. There were times I’d feel as if there was an air pocket. It was like the airplane was going down and then I’d experience chest pain. “Oh Lord, please don’t let me get a heart attack.”

Because my condition was not improving, family, friends, and church mates continued to pray for me. My sons sent messages. My inbox was full of well wishes from friends. Later on I learned that my parents went down on their knees and asked God to spare my life. My sister Joy, oh she slept in her car in the hospital’s basement parking lot. Can you just imagine the quality of air there? But she wouldn’t go home because my condition was critical. And how I looked forward to her short visits. She lifted my spirit. She’d say something random like, “Oh you have tears. That’s good. It means you’re not dehydrated.” She prayed for me. One time she called my parents and siblings and said, “Tell her what you want to say but don’t expect her to respond.” One by one they talked to me and said how much they loved me. Of course I’ll never forget the call from Mon. He cried.

Joy was only allowed to see me for a few minutes so she told me to text “x” if I needed anything. I never texted her just “x”. I would always tell her what I needed until August 7. That day, I felt very weak and tired. And so I gathered all my strength and texted her “x”. When she came, I showed her a piece of tissue paper. I coughed out blood. “How long? When will this end? I’m too tired.” And then I told her I see shadows in my room. We prayed and rebuked the spirits of infirmity in Jesus’ name. And then the shadows were gone.

I thought, “How will they announce my death? How will they tell my sons that their mom was gone?” I started composing my own obituary and said, “Is that it? Did my life really count?”

I realized that I’ve never really thanked the Lord for this illness. He allowed this to happen and He must have a purpose. I raised my weak and skinny hand to thank Him.

It is well with my soul

Dr. Susan said they will help me lie in a prone position to relieve the stress on my lungs. That maneuver has helped many patients. And so two nurses came and helped me. It was quite difficult with all the tubes attached to me.

I fell asleep and had a vision.

I was lying prone position and on a glassy sea. I was worshiping and saying, “Holy, Holy, Holy. Lord God Almighty!” Then I thought, “Why is everything so far away? Lord, are you here?” Then the vision zoomed in and I was brought at the feet of Jesus. For a moment I saw the edge of His robe. I did not dare move or lift my head. I said, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!” Then the vision zoomed out.

“Wait. Why am I seeing this? Did I die?” I slowly opened my eyes and I was still there in Urgent Care. “Blessed assurance Jesus is mine, Oh what a foretaste of glory divine!” I was at peace and slept.

August 8, just after midnight, I sent a message to our family group chat: “Nakaalpas na yata ako.” ( I think I’m out of the woods.) Because when I woke up, I just knew, I felt different, I felt better. I was hungry! That time, food was being coursed through my veins. I thought about eating a roast beef sandwich, a banh mi, or a burrito.

Later in the afternoon I was finally transferred to a telemetry room. Mon was discharged and was allowed to stay with me provided that he wear the proper PPE and that he couldn’t leave the room. Joy finally went home because she was not allowed to go up the Covid floors. On hindsight, even though we earnestly prayed for a telemetry room, it was good that I stayed in urgent care for a week because Joy was allowed to visit me,  Everything was in place. The Lord orchestrated every single detail.

A room with a view

Together again ❤

sisters-in-law Susan and Joy Lim

That night, my sister Gigi sent me a burrito. And then a salad wrap from Jehan, my other sister. Everything was delicious. It was good to be alive!

Since Mon was already discharged, he didn’t get food from the hospital. It was Gigi who delivered food and other supplies to the hospital. When Mon’s friends found out that they could actually send food to our room, they started sending. One friend sent food for one day. And then another friend the next day. God provided and we were truly amazed. One friend, upon learning he could send food, took it upon himself to send food every single day until after we were discharged. He even sent food to our house. One of our neighbors remembered my sons who were left alone in our house and sent pizza for them. They didn’t have to do it but they did. Such generosity and kindness I will never forget for as long as I live.

On August 14, I had a nightmare. Demons were ripping my face apart and blood was all over. I could not move. I whispered, “Jesus.” And they were gone. Such power in the the name of Jesus.

My progress in the telemetry was slow but every improvement in blood tests and x-rays, we celebrated. They slowly weaned me out of my oxygen load until I was only breathing room air.

with Dr. Jod

Milestone: Dr. Susan removed the high flow oxygen cannula

August 15 was a special day. I was transferred from the telemetry to a regular room. High flow oxygen was removed and replaced with a nasal cannula. And then at 10:30 am, Mon and I watched the virtual college graduation of our son.  What a blessing! We lived to see the day.

On August 17, we finally heard the three words we were waiting for. Dr. Jod said, “For discharge tomorrow.” The Lord healed me.

My name is Sandra Picache. A recipient of God’s grace and mercy, a Covid-19 survivor, a miracle.

I’m going home today.

Guest Post: Joy Lim

My name is Joy Lim and I’m a pediatrician and a Sunday School teacher. That means that I’m with children every single working day of my life and on the days I don’t work, I volunteer to be with children in Sunday school.

Needless to say, I just like them. I like them whether their cheeks are chubby or thin, whether they’re quiet or talkative, mellow or active.

So even when I was young, I naturally looked forward to getting married and having children of our own. All the more when I fell in love with a man whom I saw to be fond of children also. I saw him talk and play and joke around with them and so I thought to myself, “Oh my when we get married, and we have children, we’re going to be great parents!”

So when we got married, I wasn’t really affected when I didn’t get pregnant right away. I was still in my hospital residency and rationalized that it was because I was stressed and always tired.  But at the back of my mind, I also knew that that couldn’t be the only reason. As a doctor, I knew that after one year with my husband and I was still not pregnant, something must be wrong.

We started going to doctors. I had access to medical expertise, of course. After just a few tests, results were out.  Jcip was ok. I was not. I had a problem with my ovulation. Easy enough. Just take some pills and it will be ok. So I did. It did not work. So we did some more tests and some more procedures and some more tablets and some medicines. Every month we would hope that all of those would work.  We’ll wait for a missed period. Then when a menstrual period happens, that means no pregnancy and we would start another cycle of medicines and procedures. For months we did that, praying and hoping to have a child of our own. Adoption was of course a wonderful and amazing option but it was not for us.

We were a couple but we also had our own individual journeys with this. For me, every monthly period would start me crying. I dreaded Mother’s Day celebrations in church because year after year they would ask moms to stand and I still wasn’t one of them.  And because my friends and I were about the same age, they were also young wives and they would get pregnant. Every pregnancy announcement would make me sad, not because I wasn’t happy for my friends, I was sad because I was sad for myself. Jcip the ever supportive husband would try his best to help me but there’s just a void that only God can deal with.

I knew God and had a relationship with Him but I wasn’t always soft and yielding. There were times when I would go to my room, get a lots of paper and then I would write and write dumping all my emotions. “Lord, You said children are a reward, what do want me to do to get that reward? Some of my friends are already complaining about having too many children, why can’t I have even one?”

My prayers were honest and bold because I knew that if there was someone I could be honest and bold with, it was God.

And after I let all my emotions out, the God who could take all my rants and all my expressions of desperation, ever so-lovingly blessed me with that unexplainable peace that only He can give. I would read Romans 11:33, “Oh the depth of the riches and knowledge and wisdom of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and inscrutable His ways!”

He is worthy to be trusted. So with teary eyes, a broken heart and an empty womb, God would help me worship Him and it was good.  He taught me that He was the one who knows the big picture of this life of infertility.

And so I praise Him.

Jcip and I have been happily married for more than 25 years now and over the years, God has helped us become wiser about this.And even if that dream of having our own children will not be fulfilled anymore, we are grateful.

We have a sovereign God and He is worthy of our trust.

I missed you

I miss running.

I have a lot of excuses for not running for sure, the primary one is that my heart’s acceleration index, which is the peak acceleration of blood flow in the aorta was abnormally low. They also discovered that both of my kidneys were inflamed, causing my erratic blood pressure. I am still undergoing treatment but my cardiologist has already given me the go signal.  He said I can run again starting March and today is…drum roll please, the first day of March!  Yahooo!

Just this Saturday, February 27, I wore my running shoes, shorts, and shirt, and went out for a five-kilometer walk (no running yet). It took me an hour to finish! I was afraid I’d feel dizzy or run out of breath but surprisingly, that one hour spent walking and breaking a sweat felt really good.

I must confess I miss my running friends. I miss joining races. I miss waking up at dawn for a long run. I miss wearing my running shoes. I miss training. I miss the DOMS. I miss the black toenails (not!) I miss everything about running!

So yes, I’m excited to be back.  I will take it slow but I will bear in mind what Shifu said,

If you only do what you can do, you’ll never be better than what you are. (Kung Fu Panda 3)

I’m on the right track.

See you on the road!

Bibs

You know you’re a runner when you hear the word “bib” you think of race numbers not babies and Gerber food.

Yesterday when I was organizing my bookshelf, something fell from one of my books: a race bib, which I used as a bookmark. It was the bib from my first marathon, the 2013 Bull Runner Dream Marathon. A flood of memories rushed through my mind…the excitement when I attended the first Bull Circle, the early morning runs in BGC and Nuvali, the Nuvali hills, and then of course the race day. I stared at my bib for a long time thinking, “Did I actually run this?” Unbelievable. It seemed so long ago.

And then there was my 2015 Condura Skyway Marathon bib from my last marathon. Ah, I always get the chills every time I’d pass by Magallanes.  I’d look at THAT bridge, that intimidating Magallanes bridge that we ran four times one fine morning in February. Funny thing is, I want to run it again.

Still in the teal green Metrowide Courier plastic pouch was my Milo 21k bib. The race will be this Sunday, July 26 at 4:30 in the morning. Sadly, I will not run it. Ok, I’m all for pushing it, for going out on a run even when I’m tired or had only a few hours of sleep. But for several weeks now my blood pressure had been erratic.   You know, sometimes I think I’m superwoman but I learned the hard way that I couldn’t do it all.  I’ve already missed several weeks of training and it would be unwise for me to run this race.

I had a training program that I started to follow for Milo but there were personal circumstances – my unstable blood pressure, building a new home in Pasig for my son, and helping him move in – things that played havoc in my training schedule. For sure, life isn’t always smooth sailing that is why I have accepted that it’s ok not to race Milo. I must remember that it is important to keep things in perspective and balance.

I know I’ll be back in proper training soon but for now I have to get enough rest without feeling guilty.  I won’t make training another stress to add to my life.  Running shouldn’t be an added pressure.  Running should make me feel better and healthier.

Finisher’s Towel

My husband and I do not share bathrooms.  He likes to use my sons’ bathroom because he says it’s bigger.  It worked well for us, I like that my body washes and shampoos don’t have to crowd with his soaps, and that we don’t share towels.

Last week, my jaw literally dropped when I saw him using my towel – my 2014 TBR Dream Marathon Finisher’s towel. “How dare you.  You don’t have the right to use that,” I thought.  “You first have to run 42 kilometers.”

Then it hit me. Yes, I ran 42.195 kilometers with my own two feet but let’s face it, my husband’s support throughout my training was important essential in getting me to race day. Every time he would come home from a trip, he’d bring me back running books and magazines. He’d buy me running apparels and sports watches. He’d give me fresh coconuts so I could replenish lost electrolytes.  He was the one who paid for my marathon race fee and all the other shorter races leading to the marathon. He didn’t complain that sometimes I would spend the night over at Jehan’s house so that she and I could go to Nuvali very early the next day. His sleep was often disturbed when I had to get up at dawn for a long run.

My husband is not a runner but he definitely changed his schedule to accommodate mine and I appreciate him for that.

So yes, my dear husband, you too deserve it.  Go ahead and use that towel.  In fact, you can have it.

Even a snail…

NatGeo 2015 Half Marathon Race Report

DNF the NatGeo half marathon at 10km – that was my plan.

You see, earlier that week my blood pressure shot up to 160/100.  Was it because of something I ate or was I too tired from spinning on Monday?  Or maybe it was because of the scorching heat of summer? I honestly do not know.

By Saturday it was down to 140/90 and at 1 am on Sunday it was a normal 120/80.  I decided to go with a plan to take it easy and to stop at 10km or anytime I would feel something is not right. You might think it was a bad idea but three of my siblings were running too and I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.

At around 3:10 our wave was released.  Joy, Jehan, and I ran together.  After a few minutes, somebody tapped my arm – it was my dermatologist. So we chatted while running and after a few meters, I realized that I have lost my sisters.  “Ok then, I will have to do this on my own,” I thought.  I had no GPS devise with me which didn’t really matter.

“One, two, three, exhale, one, two, three, exhale,” I counted for five kilometers then I didn’t have to count anymore.  I knew how to breathe like clockwork.

I slowly cruised along the course, relying only on the mileage markers. At 4 a.m. it was hot and humid.  Some runners, wearing black singlets with yellow rectangles on their chests, huffed and puffed. Good thing the hydration stations overflowed with iced water, sponges, bananas, and Pocari Sweat.

I felt fine except for the big toe on my right foot hurt like crazy and I knew I have lost my toenail.  I was sad for a while but the grieving for my black toenail was cut short when I saw a mileage marker: 11 Km. “Eleven! I was supposed to DNF at ten! Might as well finish this race,” I thought.  I kept remembering what Paul Tergat said, “Ask yourself: ‘Can I give more?’. The answer is usually: ‘Yes’.”

At 19km, a lot of runners were already walking and I was pleased that I was still strong.  Slow but strong. Does that make sense?

Again, I made a mistake of not checking the race course and I thought that coming from Macapagal we would go straight to the finish line. But to my dismay, we had to run around MOA. Those turns really tested my will to finish.

I don’t know with you but something magical happens to me when I see the finish line.  There’s always a surge of energy as if I wasn’t tired or have not run at all. I finished at 3:18:23.  My slowest, my Personal Worst record.  Haha.

When we got back to the car, Joy again took my blood pressure. “Hay naku, 120/70, mas mababa pa. You’re healed,” she declared. Thank God. 🙂

It’s supposed to be hard. The hard is what makes it great. ~ Jimmy Dugan

National Geographic half-marathon, check!

We all finished. Yay!

Post-run celebration

 

 

I Ran with Dick Beardsley

I heard about him, read about him…

watched his 1982 Boston Marathon race on YouTube, and then one fine morning in February 2015 I actually ran with him. Yes, me! I ran with Dick Beardsley, a 2:08:53 marathoner. How often do you get to do that?

He even signed my shirt! Woohoo!

Dick Beardsley, a farm boy from Minnesota, was neck-and-neck against the world record holder Alberto Salazar,  during the 1982 Boston Marathon, a race now known in running history as the “Duel in the Sun”.  Both broke the American and Boston Marathon records that day, with Dick clocking in his personal record of 2:08:53, just TWO SECONDS behind Alberto.

Watch this 9-minute video of the race:

That was exciting, wasn’t it? Ok, now, would you like to hear the story behind it from the man himself? Please don’t fail to watch the video below recorded by my good friend Louie Cruz. This was taken after the run session with Dick in Alabang. It’s powerful and inspiring.

What a great and humble man.

Thank you Dick for sharing your wealth of experience as a distance runner to us. I am inspired.