I have been a NSW police officer for 33 years – frontline operational for 16 years and then a prosecutor. I was physically healthy and fit with no underlying health issues.

I know people who talk about Covid being non-existent or nothing too serious. I know people who are anti-vaccination and people who are pro-vaccination. I have kept an open mind and respect people’s rights to their views. For myself, I had made the decision to get the vaccine and I was due to get the “jab” when I came home from work one day very tired after a long week.

In the following days, I developed a headache, a sore throat and a runny nose, which progressed to a fever, shivering, aching joints and muscles. It was like nothing I had experienced before.

A Covid test came back positive. My symptoms got worse. A continuous headache, shaking, fever, muscle and joint pain, a bad cough and a severe sore throat. There was no relief and no sleep.

Worried about infecting others in my household, I went to a Covid hotel where my oxygen levels and heart rate were monitored throughout the day. I was not allowed to leave the room and any contact with nurses was at a distance.

I was incredibly fatigued, bed-ridden and my terrible headache continued. When my oxygen levels declined, I became delirious, believing I had to enact a perfect COPS (TV show) event each night or I would suffer more in the morning. There was no relief, no sleep, nothing to help me get some strength back.

My oxygen levels dropped so much I ended up being taken to St Vincent’s Hospital by ambulance. When I arrived there, it was like the parting of the Red Sea. Corridors were shut down and people moved away. I was put into a Covid isolation ward, known as the “bubble room”, with positive air pressure and an air lock.

I didn’t fully comprehend what was going on, but I was afraid. I contacted my solicitor to get my affairs in order and to provide contact lists as a precaution.

There were three of us in the bubble room, all from different walks of life, ages and cultures.

The room was silent but for the sounds of the machines and the checks being done by nurses and doctors. Because of the protective clothing and face shields they wore, it was not possible to discern one medical staffer from another except by their shoes.

One man in the room went into cardiac arrest and was rushed to intensive care. I didn’t see him again. Another man arrived. He had been in ICU for 26 days after going to a butcher shop and returning home with Covid.

Another patient regularly had reduced oxygen levels that triggered alarms.

I was on oxygen and a drip and was monitored throughout the day and given various medications. Nursing staff had to enter through the positive airlock and were only able to stay with us for a limited time to minimise exposure.

I was worried about my oxygen levels dropping further. I saw others having to wear full oxygen face masks and being rolled over onto their stomachs to assist with air flow, which was not a good sign. I feared that would happen to me, but five days later my oxygen had improved to the point where I could return to the Covid hotel.

I was excitedly anticipating my imminent release.

Unfortunately, a painful issue arose with the circulation in my left leg and I was taken by ambulance to the Prince of Wales Hospital and treated as a Covid-positive patient.

Again, I was isolated. Scans of my leg revealed a 30-centimetre blood clot, which, I was told, was directly linked to Covid-19 and there was a risk of it affecting my lungs

There were discussions among my medical team about the worst-case treatment scenarios, which included my leg being amputated. Again, I made contact with my solicitor, family, friends and the Police Association of NSW (PANSW).

In the coming days, I had several surgeries involving both the vascular and respiratory teams. Doctors tried to clear the clot through blood thinners, balloons and wires.

A cage was inserted into my main artery to catch any pieces of the clot that might break free and to prevent them travelling to my lungs or heart, which could potentially be fatal. A stent was inserted in my stomach.

It was not possible to have visitors, but I was grateful to a friend who dropped off things I needed and to communications from my colleagues. It meant a lot.

I was avoiding too much communication with my family because I didn’t want to upset them with my appearance – the monitors, lines and bruising. The blood thinners I was on meant I bruised easily and each time the drip was removed, I bled profusely.

I eventually reached a point where I could be released, but I had to learn to walk again. The amount of time I had spent in hospital and the surgeries I had undergone had damaged my leg and the simple act of trying to walk became deeply emotional and physically challenging for me.

Twenty-six days after testing positive, I was wheeled out of hospital and picked up by staff from the Campbelltown City Police Area Command. I am deeply grateful to them for that.

I returned home to begin my slow recovery, accompanied by many more medical appointments, blood tests and scans and, two weeks later, a return trip to the Prince of Wales Hospital to have the cage removed from my artery and for a clot that had developed around the stent to be removed.

A week after that I went to my GP, which required having a Covid test, but I was not immediately notified of the results. Two days later, after more problems with circulation and numbness in my left foot, I went to the hospital where I was promptly admitted as a fresh Covid-positive patient because the result of my test was in and it appeared I had contracted Covid for a second time.

The Department of Health advised me, however, that I should not have had the Covid test because people who have had Covid will test positive for up to six months afterwards, although not be infectious.

Before all this happened to me, I didn’t know anyone who had Covid. I remain open minded, but I can tell you that Covid is real. On a few occasions, I felt I wouldn’t make it through the night, and I am suffering long-term effects.

I need ongoing physio. I have a dry cough and still get out of breath easily. I have lost mobility and put on weight. I suffer intermittent pain in my muscles and joints and will remain on blood thinners long term.

Some days are good and some are bad, but I am fortunate. I received many supportive texts while I was in hospital, which really helped me and reminded me of the camaraderie we experience as police and members of PANSW.

My organiser and my industrial officer helped me with questions I had about my insurance cover, hospital stays, entitlements and were just happy to have a chat. That was really important to me.

In hindsight, I wish that first-hand accounts of people who have suffered from Covid were part of the information and education process. You need to speak with someone or see it first-hand to get an appreciation of what it is capable of.

The issue of getting vaccinated has been divisive for some. I understand that and acknowledge the rights and freedoms of people. Frontline policing is a contact sport. Every day, police face dangers. You go to a job, you don’t know if there is a weapon. In the pandemic, you go to a job and you don’t know if there is Covid. You can’t see it, hear it or smell it, and you worry about contracting it or bringing it home.

If someone told me that Covid was not a real thing, I would shake my head and walk off. If someone told me they were not getting vaccinated, I would say they can make their own decision, but if they are exposed to Covid they are playing Russian roulette with their health.

Covid-19 is real and I am “lucky” enough to say that I am living proof.

Lenny’s story is reproduced courtesy of the Police Association of New South Wales.