I have Covid-19 – even with ‘moderate’ symptoms, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy

A mild experience of coronavirus is nothing like the flu or a cold. In my experience, they’d only come close if you souped them up with nuclear waste and the venom of a black mamba

I’m now on Covid-19 day 13 and I’m still breathless, still coughing. My muscles feel as if I’ve just done an intense workout; my head is being attacked by a phalanx of pickaxe-wielding pixies.

These are the lingering effects of a “moderate” case of Covid-19. Yes “moderate”. It was still “moderate” when I felt so ill that I wondered how long I could hold off using the bathroom, because the idea of moving was unthinkable and my head was spinning so quickly that I could barely cope with watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off on the iPad for the 60th time.

I haven’t been this sick since being run over by a cement truck. Being diagnosed with type 1diabetes at aged two would also be worse. But Covid-19 takes the bronze.

My wife is on day 20 and I imagine she’d have been in hospital at some point if the UK had enough beds to cope. But she works in education rather than in government, so although it’s been touch and go, she has remained home throughout​. This means that she too just about falls into the “moderate” bracket.

Given the way this spiteful little bag of proteins and RNA has landed on my household, you can understand why I found myself wondering if the throngs of people out sunbathing at the weekend had dropped acid.

Maybe that’s the real 5G conspiracy: it doesn’t so much spread the virus (as some numbskulls have been claiming) as it does a mass outbreak of selfish stupidity.

Actually 5G might have played a role in disseminating the virus​, along with 4G and the interweb and other media. No, I’m not giving succour to the diseased imaginations of people who think the world is run by lizard creatures from a pod in the centre of a hollow earth. I’m thinking rather of the messaging that’s been consumed via handsets, computers and other devices.

Terms like “moderate” and “mild” and “most people” have been much used. I’d argue that they’ve been overused because they’ve clearly given some people the impression that they really don’t need to worry. They’ll be ok. They’ll likely get nothing worse than a cough and a sniffle if they come into contact with it.

“It is what it is, innit,” said one spectacularly complacent rube interviewed outside by Sky News, with a child in his arms.

No it isn’t. Take it from me, you don’t want this. You don’t want a “moderate” case of this.

Moderate sounds light and easy. Moderate winds are what make walks bracing. A moderate case of the flu is nasty but bearable.

A moderate Covid-19 experience is nothing like the latter. It’d come close only if you souped it up with nuclear waste and mamba venom.

I’ve seen the figure of 6 per cent used for the amount of people who end up ill enough to require something more than the observation and tests the PM was given during his hospital stay, people who may end up hooked up to a ventilator in one of those austere looking beds they’ve put up in Nightingale, the new Covid hospital in London’s ExCel centre. Assuming they can find enough people to staff it.

I’ve not seen any stats for the number of people who get something more like what I’ve had.

But my GP – whom I’ve been lucky enough to speak to – has told me it’s not at all uncommon and that it may take some time before I’m feeling normal again.

So to Mr “It Is What It Is, Innit” and all the other idiots thinking they’ll roll the dice and not worry about their fellow Britons who could end up gasping or worse if they spread the stuff, consider this:

I have an understanding employer, one that’s afforded me time to recover somewhat and take this first week back easier than I usually would. You may not be so lucky. Plenty of bosses have read that stuff about most cases being mild, seven days with a bit of a cough and maybe a temperature. And some of them have been less than sympathetic towards those who’ve been dealing with the mamba venom infused version of Covid-19. Going out means people may be putting their jobs as well as their health and that of others at risk.

No, we don’t want a panic. But the way we talk about this thing needs to change. In many cases it’s very nasty indeed.

And the worst thing? Even though I’ve felt like microwaved death for two bloody weeks, I’d still consider myself to be among the fortunate.