“These are the times that try men’s souls.” ~ Thomas Paine
The sun is hot, water is wet, and my husband brought home Covid. For the past two years, I knew it was inevitable, and yet, at the moment he announced his test was positive—I was shocked, appalled, and I wanted to slap him into next year!
“Don’t feel bad,” our friend, who also happens to be a doctor of infectious diseases told me that night, “Everyone who gets Omicron feels like the last kid left on the dodge ball court.” He was employing his best bedside manner.
“That’s exactly how I feel! “
“Listen, it’s insidious and it’s everywhere,” he said, “lingering like cigarette smoke in an empty room. (insert uncomfortable pause here) “And eventually, we’re all gonna get it.”
DUH DUN DAHHHHHHH (cue ominous music).
“I know, you’re right, but what do I do now?”
“Watch his symptoms (he’s asymptomatic) and mind yourself.”
“Mind myself?” I tried my best not to screech in his ear.
“Don’t get scared. Stay positive, don’t Covid-shame him (too late), isolate, wear your mask at Trader Joe’s, don’t let him lick people’s faces while he’s testing positive—and test yourself in five days, even if you’re without symptoms.”
In other words, pivot, stay fluid, adapt, adapt, adapt
Now, I can feel many of you rolling your eyes, but we live in Los Angeles, in the state of California, a state where restrictions have been stricter than most, and as much as “I am so over this”, I witnessed, first-hand, the effects of hospital overwhelm when I wasn’t permitted to visit this same husband in the hospital three weeks ago.
After emergency surgery.
Where he was given a bed—but no room.
Seriously.
A huge medical facility, in the largest city in the state, and THEY HAD RUN OUT OF ROOMS.
Of course, I’d heard about this, but I guess I figured it was happening somewhere else—to someone else. Sheesh.
So now, like millions of you, I have Covid in the house. The monster is out from under the bed and his cigarette smoke is lingering all over my happy place.
You’ll also be surprised, shocked, delighted to know that five days in, I’m staying positive and testing negative.
PS: I also love sleeping in my (according to my BFF) “Dark chocolate Hershey’s kiss” of a guest room. Maybe too much.
PPS: Still minding myself.
Carry on,
xox Janet
