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The Covid Diaries
Welp, after three years it finally got me. The dreaded C word.
I was out for a fun night with friends at a charity event. There were several of us at one table for the majority of the evening. After the event, a few of us decided to go to the indoor bocci ball court and play a round.
The only ones who caught Covid were the four of us that played a round of bocci. Balls.
And yes, it’s spelled both ways but I prefer Bocci because it looks more Italian. Anyways it started a flu feeling 2 days later and a text that “T” tested positive for Covid, before you knew it all four of us were down with the sickness.
Here was my day to day progress:
Day 1-3: Sunday started to feel sick, Monday tested negative but couldn’t get out of bed. Tuesday, tested negative but knew I had it when it was four in the afternoon and I found myself in bed but couldn’t remember how I got there because the last thing I remembered I was watching a video about a hated YouTuber whose name I can’t remember while on the couch in the living room. Fever started.
Days 4: Finally tested positive. Made a joke on Facebook: “I’m hot-blooded, I’m feeling sick – got a fever of 100.6 ♪ “. I think I’m funny which is a sure sign that my mental capacity had been impaired in some way.
Day 5-6: I start having weird thoughts about the song Hot-Blooded because of my stupid joke. I’m fixated on the lyric “but before we do, you need to get away from you-know-who.” I spend hours in a fever dream wondering who you-know-who is. Are they this girl’s boyfriend? Are they a good friend who was warning the lass to stay away from this hot-blooded fellow? I’ve never thought about the song before and now one lyric has taken over my life.
Day 7-8: So far I’ve felt sick and exhausted (like the flu) but now a fun new symptom has popped up. I wake up without the ability to taste or smell. In an effort to test this I have sprayed so many various perfumes on me that mall ladies would be envious. Day 8 – still no taste in the morning. Later that day it comes back all at once. Covid is weird.
Day 9-14: Everything becomes a blur. My friends got coughs early on but mine just developed during this time so I now sound like a 75-year old chain-smoking divorcee with bronchitis. Every day I seem to be sticking things up my nose – sometimes it’s even for Covid testing.
Day 15: Test came back negative! I’m still hacking but it’s now down to sexy, raspy voice. I’m sad I’ll lose that. 🙁
So it’s been a few days after testing negative (checked a few times after that) but I’m still feeling rotten and I’m fine as long as I don’t talk to much which leads to coughing jags which irritates others (both the coughing and the talking). Still exhausted but on the road to recovery at least. By the way I am totally vaxxed, boosted etc. so if that had not been the case, this story would have ended very badly.
But I think the main takeaway from this is, don’t trust small Italian balls.
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The Not-So-Cool Apocalypse
I’ve been on Twitter way too much lately. I’ve been reading every post on Facebook and even (god help me) the comments underneath. I’ve been watching the news before work and after work and also reading online articles.
The good thing is I know what’s going on in the world. The bad thing is I KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON IN THE WORLD. And everything I see leads me to only one conclusion.
The thing is, I thought the end of the world was going to come in some sort of brazen, glorious way. Of course, there’d be a couple ragtag groups of survivors – one of them good, the other evil and there’d be a constant war between them where good would emerge victorious. I mean, this is what television, books, and movies have led me to believe and why would they lie to me?
But noooo. Instead of a proper badass ending, we get people taking supplies from the medical professionals who need it, hoarding meat products, eggs, and toilet paper and generally being obnoxious a-holes.
This was not the cool apocalypse I envisioned.
I thought at least there might be some sort of burning fire that rained down from the heavens and engulfed the planet until all that is left is a mere whiff of ozone and some discarded gordita wrappers. Or at least, a dystopian desert wasteland where we’re all driving kick-ass trucks with spikes on sides and baby doll heads on the front. Oh, and we’d all be Australian in that scenario. Naturally.
But the thing is, none of us are Mad Max/Fury Road warriors. We are not hardcore killers. We are not brave. Not only do we not kick ass, we spend a good time sitting on ours. We are the type of people who pull groin muscles after reaching for the remote while eating a Hostess Twinkie and watching The Walking Dead in our underwear. In other words, we are normal people trying to make the best of an abnormal situation.
So this is a quick post to say, be nice to each other. Be kind. Be good to all the service workers who can’t take time off. But most of all, stay inside and safe because what could possibly happen to you inside?
Okay I’m not helping. Shut up Cheryl.
All’s I’m saying is if you’re going to be one of the ragtag survivors, join the “good” group okay? Take the time to check on the elderly, don’t be a jerk at the grocery store, wash your hands and for god’s sake stop touching your face.
Thank you.