I'm always a bit late to appreciate trends and current events. I only started listening to punk rock/new wave in the late 80s. I didn't dig Seattle Grunge until a solid 10 years after Kurt Cobain died. And so it is with Covid.
D2 woke up sick Tuesday, with bad cold-like symptoms, and Jonathan was sick a day later. Oh well -- both must have caught bad colds -- they're out and about quite a lot, including a surprise engagement party on Miami Beach Saturday attended by more than a hundred guests. They stayed home and worked, and we thought little about it.
Thursday afternoon I had a doctor's visit, to remove a chin wart, and on the way home I felt a bit pro-dromic -- the word my doc friends explained to me that means you feel like you may be coming down with something. I was a bit concerned, as I had a busy weekend and following week planned -- Bob Dylan art show Saturday with Jeff and Jim, officiating at a wedding in Davie Sunday, and Wifey and my first plane trip since 12/19 -- to D.C. -- to see cherry blossoms and our nephew of another mister, Scott, and his lady Sam.
Still -- I felt ok, and we all watched Gonzaga lose, much to D2's chagrin, as she had them winning the championship in her bracket. And then...I stood up, and it was if I were put onto an ice floe.
I started shaking uncontrollably -- shivering. As the serVER of my family and never serVED, I said nothing to anyone, and just struggled upstairs. I took Tylenol and got to bed. Wifey came to bed and asked why it was shaking -- it was my shivering. Man -- it came on hard.
D1 texted to say that the party D2 and Jonathan attended Saturday night was a superspreader event -- several guests tested positive for Covid. D2 took a rapid test -- one of the boxes Joe Biden sent us -- and it was positive. Friday am I took a test, too -- the red line appeared in record time. I had Covid, too.
I really thought we were past this. Miami Dade has a "low" spread rating. The cases keep dropping. Hospitalizations are record low levels. All I know is, I felt as bad as I ever did from a flu.
I summoned the energy to call my friends Iris and Jacqui. The Jewish minister was out for Sunday's wedding. I felt awful -- the wedding had already been delayed from January due to the Omicron surge. Jacqui had a nasty bout of Covid -- she was sick for 2 weeks. No worries, they said -- Iris would do the ceremony. I still felt terrible about it -- particularly since Wifey and I were abandoned by our officient -- though that was due to a free trip for Mark Kram -- not illness.
I also called AA -- actually did a chat. When I told the chat bot I had Covid -- they cancelled our reservations pronto. Next was AMEX, to cancel our hotel. They called back, which was good, since holding the phone while waiting was too draining. The very nice Sub Continent person likewise cancelled without issue.
The rest of Friday sort of slogged by in a fog. I had Tylenol PM, and kept popping it, even though you're only supposed to take it once at night. It let me blissfully sleep for a few hours at a time.
Today, mercifully, I'm better. D2 gave me some regular Tylenol. I still have ZERO appetite, which for me never happens. All I could eat was a banana and an Aloha bar -- and I feel as if I had my usual huge breakfast.
More mercifully, D2 and Jonathan are MUCH better. Wifey, who had Covid in January, never got anything -- she must have super immunity with her 3 jabs and recovery from the actual disease.
As I type, she is holding court with the young-uns about whether or not to pursue their complicated house purchase in the Grove. I'm still too fatigued to take part.
So I guess this is the "new normal." We get vaccines, like for the flu, but still may have to deal with this nasty virus. As long as it's awful for 2-3 days, it's ultimately tolerable -- like the 2 day long Florida Bar exam I endured in July of '86.
Of course, after that event, we got to celebrate at Bern's Steakhouse. I don't have the appetite for that -- as of now.
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