This Is Covid

Yes, but I’m the one who wears a mask to walk the dogs, herding them across the street to avoid oncoming pedestrians (who are never masked); the one who won’t powerwalk with mom friends (who are never masked); who will meet at a park, masked, as long as you are masked too and 10 feet away from my body; who wipes down door handles and grocery bags and grocery items; who will never be a hand model because of all the sanitizer gel and soapings 100 times a day; who turns the car around if husband or son has forgotten their mask and we’re on our way to hike fairly deserted trails, or the beach at 7am when only pelicans and gulls frequent the shore. I’M THAT ONE.

And I have Covid. As does my teenager. And my spouse.

So close to getting vaccinated, an entire year of staying safe, an impressive collection of masks, an arsenal of sanitizers in house and cars, and we have it.

So far, it is like having a heavy flu. Every. Single. Day. Today, Day 5, feels worse than Day 4. Which felt better than days 2 and 3. I don’t remember Day 1.

TBH, we need for Days 7 and 10 to hurry up and get here. I’m told if we make it without respiratory issues through those days, which can be prone to the Covid breathing issues and possible hospitalization, then we’re going to be fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

Mainly, don’t let anyone ever tell you cats don’t help when you’re Covid-ridden. Or the giant TV you invested in before Covid began killing Americans. Or the pictures on your walls. Or the speedy book delivery from your favorite independent bookstores. Or that lemongrass/peppermint body scrub your sister gave you for your birthday. Or the old Reilly Ace Of Spies PBS series starring Sam Neill. Or hot water with fresh lemon squeezed in it. Or thermometers that don’t have to go under your tongue, armpits, or swipe across your forehead, but inform you via a trained soft light and gentle beep. Or Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Or having Alexa play windchimes.

Yours in healing ASAP,
PB
UPDATE: 3/31 If you, too, have Covid, then you’re not alone in feeling like you are living in a perpetual state of trying to complete a cartwheel. Slooooooowly.
Last night was scary for husband (thus all of us), who is in perhaps 9th-11th day of sickness. Family dr. prescribed a cough RX and husband was able to sleep. Cough sounded like very old contraption dredging Suez Canal. Yes. Nightmare material.
Have canceled son’s school for rest of week. Why didn’t I do that at once? He doesn’t need school stress. He needs to sleep. Rest. Play video games with friends ALL DAY LONG IF NECESSARY. We are grateful our son has no fever, but a huge appetite.
My 7th day of Covid–I am basically better than everyone else. I am feeding family/pets. I loaded dishwasher. I submitted my writing to a thing I was supposed to. I showered. And now I’m going to schedule dinner delivery.
GET THIS: The oximeter from CVS. 49,99. Cheaper versions on Amazon. Get. It.
Stay healthy. Stay safe. I thought we were doing just that. I effing wipe down everything in this house. We don’t go to restaurants. Malls. We stayhome/staysafe. I don’t know how we got it.
PB

About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, fortunate. Fiction, memoir, poetry, kidlit (MG), member SCBWI. pbwrites.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to This Is Covid

  1. Oh dear. Oh crap, oh hell. I’m sorry. I keep wondering if I’m next. We’ve been hermits like you. I mostly bird watch alone and only go to the store when we need to or when it’s been carefully planned. I am “too healthy” to be on the list yet in PA. And yet I have been here at work most days when other libraries in the are have been closed far longer than they were required to be. We have masks and dividers and wipes and air cleaners . . . but . . . yeah. My best thoughts and wishes to you and your family. Hang in there.

    • PB Rippey says:

      Thanks so much, David. We almost made it to vaccination. Right before we got sick, our pharmacy told us to call every day at 4pm and if they had any leftover vaccine they would stick us with it. Maybe your pharmacy would do same? Here’s to good health. 🙂

Words do not escape you

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s