So since March 12th, Wifey and I have tried to be as Covid preventative as reasonably possible. We do this mostly at the direction of D1 and her proper concern for her baby boy, although he's now over 9 months and looking rather, well, plumb and thankfully healthy. Still, we're also at the lower end of the age group that seems to do poorly when they catch the virus. Early on, I heard the millennials were calling the disease "Boomer Remover," and sure enough that's how it's mostly played out.
It hasn't been easy. I LOVE having people over here. But since March, the only ones allowed in have been Miriam, our cleaning lady, now every two weeks. And we leave before she arrives, lest there be no active sharing of the dreaded "respiratory droplets" that seem to be causing the most havoc. We have the Ds, and their men, and our grandson, too, and a few times increased the bubble to include the Ds' BFF Alyssa and her wonderful husband, Freddy. But even those visits have been curtailed.
Also, one time Mirta came by, on her motorcycle, and she stayed 20 minutes, and we all wore masks, and sat far apart in our living room.
Well, Sunday there was a serious breach of our protocol. Wifey hired decorators last year, and they still had some work to do, and finally Wifey decided to have them over. They also asked if they could "take a few pictures" of their job. I was opposed, but Wifey was adamant, and so I agreed to go to a separate room and watch the Dolphins lose. The visit would last an hour or less.
After 2 hours, they were still there. And -- they had played Wifey. They brought a professional photographer and turned our house into a studio -- lamps and all. Ain't NO ONE letting folks in for formal commercial shoots, and they must have flipped out when they got Wifey to seemingly agree to this.
Well, when I realized what was going on, I masked up and came to the living room. Sure enough, the three young women AND Wifey were all maskless -- though Wifey was standing a bit apart. My less than charming side came out, and I ordered them to leave. Now. But they only needed "15 minutes more." No. Now, as in NOW.
They packed up, and Wifey realized she had screwed up. Big. We immediately set about disinfecting all the surfaces of the house -- exactly as if we had entered a hotel, something I have avoided and WILL avoid for the duration of the Plague. I went online and scheduled COVID tests three days hence -- which is today.
We were tested back in late June, and thankfully the results were negative. I'm hopeful the three young women with the run of our house were not spreaders, though one really concerns me: the professional photographer. I know for a fact that young Latins in Miami are still having "super spreader" events like Quinces and weddings and parties, and I have zero doubt if I talked to the photo lady, she'd tell me she has been to many of these events.
I hope to find the results by tomorrow -- apparently the turn around time has decreased quite a bit. Wifey didn't get her results last time for TEN days after her sample was taken -- mine came back in 6.
It would be the height of absurdity if our Plague downfall came as the result of something so stupid as allowing a photo shoot in our house for free. If I had to get sick, at least there should have been an upside to the risky event -- like going to a tailgate party, if they were allowed...
I totally get why all the best models tell us we're all in for a worse second wave coming in a few months. People, including my Wifey, clearly have quarantine fatigue, and are engaging in activities they know deep down have risks that outweigh the benefits.
Honestly, for me, as long as I can see the Ds, their men, and our grandson, the social distancing has been quite tolerable. My twice daily, long walks let my mind wander. Sometimes I'm mentally on beautiful hiking paths in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Sometimes it's the Oregon Coast. The other day I walked back through my childhood -- the hike from my house to the fields of Levittown Little League, where I knocked in a game winning run.
So we'll find out if we've avoided infection with that devilish tiny piece of RNA. I hope we do. D1 and Joey invited us for a pre Yom Kippur fast Sunday evening, and they're bringing in food from the diner at the Vagabond Motel, which has a Top 5 hamburger. D2 and Jonathan are set to go, too -- we'll enjoy each other's company, and toast to more peaceful times.
Assuming the test results go the right way...
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