Clinical picture. Chizhova Lyubov about her medical history

When the Covid-19 epidemic was just beginning, I told my friends and colleagues that it would be better for me not to get sick-our medicine near Moscow (and I live in Nahabin, this will not cope with this 15 kilometers from the city line). We do not have exemplary clinics like communal services, doctors in the regional clinics do not understand what they are dealing with, for computed tomography, which determines lung lesions with almost 100 percent accuracy. In Nahabin, for example, there is not a single CT apparatus, and only one clinic for almost 50 thousand of the population. In general, I did not plan to get sick, I worked from home, occasionally went to the store in a mask and gloves.

Unfortunately, my husband was forced to go to work, his institution for the period of the pandemic did not close, and, probably, I picked up the infection from him. Fortunately, neither he nor his daughter fell ill-they did not have any symptoms of Covid-19 . I felt bad on April 20, the temperature rose and a nasty dry cough began. I called a doctor from the clinic, a very young girl came to me without a mask and gloves and said that all experienced doctors went to sick leave.

She listened to the lungs, said that everything was in order, made a diagnosis of SARS and prescribed azithromycin (this is a cheaper analogue of Sumamed, now, as I understand it, they write to everyone). I was used to listening to doctors, even such young people, began to drink medicines, but I got worse. The temperature rose and increased, the cough intensified, I was sick, the whole body broke. The smell was gone. His eyes turned red and hurt, nightmares dreamed at night (it turns out, anxiety, depression and poor sleep, too, part of this disease).

All this time, I, having read the stories of people who have already been ill with the infection of the coronavirus, tried to find CT next to Nakhabin. Everywhere where I called, the record was three weeks in advance, prices were expected to take off. But, as usual, I was lucky-they called back from one paid clinic in Istra and reported that they had free time-someone canceled the record. On April 27, I designed a QR code, called a taxi and went to do computed tomography of the lungs. Everything took no more than an hour, the young doctor carefully handed me the results and said that I urgently needed to the hospital: CT shows bilateral interstitial viral pneumonia with a high probability of Covid-19 . Then 10 and 15 percent of the lungs were affected (later, when I already got to the hospital and I had made another CT, 25 percent of each lung was damaged).

On the advice of the doctor, I called my clinic. They were scared there and said that they could not help me, they need to urgently call an ambulance. The temperature is 38.5, CT with almost confirmed Covid-19 and pneumonia in her arms, but the ambulance never came to me. I understand perfectly well that I probably had not the most severe case of the course of the disease, but in this case I should have said directly about it: "The ambulance was not put you!" But no - they promised that they would come, called back, asked to collect things, even said which hospital they would take (to the Kashira Central Design Bureau, this is 115 kilometers from Moscow). Okay, in the kashira so in Kashira. I agreed to go even to the ends of the world, because the treatment of pneumonia and coronavirus at home seems to me that the event doomed to failure.

But no one came to me. At first they said that there are too many challenges, and they would come to me within a day. 20 hours after calling an ambulance, I received an SMS about his cancellation. I called the ambulance (no one picked up the phone there), to different hot lines, in an emergency service - I tried to understand why they canceled the call and what to do next. I did not receive a single clear and clear answer. And one guy - the hotline operator along the coronavirus in the suburbs honestly said: "I do not know what to do, and no one knows."

All this time I was in touch with friends on social networks, I was advised by excellent doctors, acquaintances and acquaintances of friends, everyone advised to knock down the temperature below 38 degrees, but it had already risen to almost 40 and did not get down. Oh yes, on April 28, another young young lady from the clinic came to me, but in a protective suit, wrote an amoxiclav and designed a sick leave. Antibiotics did not help, it didn’t become better for me. I admit, I was a little scared and very angry. Someone advised to calm down and be treated at home. But for some reason I really did not want to replenish the statistics of people over 40, who did not have any chronic diseases, and they took and died of coronavirus.

You ask: what is the moral of this story? And there is no morality. Everyone survives as they can. For a long time

In general, I still got to the hospital, only because I can achieve their goals. I will not describe in detail how I succeeded. I can only say that without good friends, old and new ones, nothing would have happened. On April 28 in the evening, I was finally brought to the infectious department of the Odintsovo Regional Hospital. My attending physician became Alexander Anatolyevich Litvinov, a real professional, confident and competent, only sad and tired. He promised that he would certainly cure me.

I spent almost 10 days in the hospital. All this time, droppers with antibiotics were given me, treated with malaria and antifungal drugs, and anticoagulants were given. The high temperature lasted another five days, the head and stomach were very sick, the cough became stronger, the nightmares continued to dream. On April 30, I took a test for Koronavirus, which turned out to be negative. Another test was taken on May 6, its results are still unknown. The doctor immediately said: the tests are not very interested in him, my clinical picture and CT results confirm Covid-19 . The hospital was not scary at all: they regularly cleaned up and fed normally. Absolutely exhausted nurses found time to cheer and comfort.

It was easier for the sixth day. They took control tests from me and promised that they would be discharged soon. And on May 8, I went home. My diagnosis is Covid-19 , the virus is never identified. Complication from the disease is a mercenary bilateral pneumonia of moderate severity. The doctor said that I was still sick, but I can’t infect anyone. Now it is objectively easier for me, the cough has almost passed and worries only at night. The temperature for the first time is 20 days below 37 degrees. My husband and daughter are registered in the clinic as contacting with the sick. They also took tests, but there are no results yet. We have to sit at home for another two weeks. I was prescribed treatment for a month: there are antibiotics, antifungal drugs, and anticoagulants, and drugs for the stomach and liver - too many pills had to be drunk for weeks of illness. After treatment, you will need to make another computed tomography and find a pulmonologist who will help restore the lungs after pneumonia.

You ask: what is the moral of this story? And there is no morality. Everyone survives as they can. For a long time. The most amazing thing is that optimized Russian medicine has not yet been bent, despite all the efforts of officials. There are still competent doctors in the country, despite low salaries and inhuman load. The nurses are joking and smiling with the last strength.

For a long time they are enough, I don't know.

Lyubov Chizhova - Journalist Radio Liberty

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