The youngling and I recently attended the annual ConnectiCon and has a blast as usual. We masked at con wherever possible because that’s what we do now. We both have health issues and try to avoid picking up every little bug. It’s just our lives now. Going into the store or school? Put on a mask. We went to a post funeral dinner in a restaurant last fall and it felt strange to be out in public, sitting next to people, without a mask. For people like us it’s not paranoia, just common sense.
Driving to and from con every day wipes me out, as well as all the walking and the people, so I stocked the fridge and pantry beforehand so I wouldn’t have to go to a store afterwards and planned on working at home for the week. Even the laundry was caught up, a practical miracle when one doesn’t have a dryer and it’s hot and humid in the summer.
The Monday after con I was fine. A bit tired and sore but that was to be expected. Tidied up the chaos of a busy four days and sent the youngling off to her father’s for the usual weekly custody change. Woke up Tuesday feeling like crap but figured it was con crud or maybe the ever changing weather, or how about both? Looked up Covid symptoms on my phone because that’s where my anxiety ridden brain goes since December 2019 but the listed symptoms didn’t quite align with what I was experiencing so I shoved down the anxiety hamsters and told them to take a nap because damn was I tired.
Spent three days, including my birthday day, on the couch. Sorta ate when I could manage to get myself up. Went through an entire box of tissues in 24 hours. Part of my pre-con stock up was finally buying Dune part 2 and The Mandalorian seasons 1 & 2 for post-con recovery binge watching. At least the brain was entertained while the body rested.
The youngling returned on Thursday. She didn’t feel great either but we both figured it was a melody of maladies just ganging up on her.
As the weekend came up I saw that the upcoming week was going to be rain on and off and some really intense heat. The garlic we planted last fall really needed to be harvested before it rotted in the ground. It probably should have been done weeks ago but we were both busy with con crunch and work. The cukes and peppers were buried in weeds. Had it really been since June since I’ve weeded? Bad urban homesteader, bad.
So I spent three hours on Saturday in the heat at the community garden. Got the garlic up, planted the zucchini babies I’d started a couple of months ago in the now empty space, excavated the other half of the bed from the weeds. The poor peppers and cukes were so damn sad. Went through 64 oz of water while at the garden and polished off a fair amount of cream soda when I returned to the house. I’d washed and hung all my bed linens before going over so those had to be pulled from the line and the bed made. Then there was a well needed shower and dinner to make.
Sure I felt like shit and sat down every 5-15 minutes but it all got done. My peasant ancestors on both sides should be proud.
Sunday was another 3 loads of laundry and when the youngling said something about body aches and pains something clicked and I pulled out the Covid tests.
Both of us managed to avoid testing positive over 4 years of plague. There’s been a couple of exposures but we’d always managed to doge the virus. Once she tested positive I took my own test and it was popping up with that second line before 5 minutes had even passed let alone the recommended 15.
We knew that this was a possibility before going to con. It’s a hellava lot of people. Beforehand we both checked with our doctors that we had the right boosters and we masked as much as possible. Due to the timing I’m thinking I’m the one who caught it and then gave it to her.
Talk about maternal guilt.
There’s been a lot of talk about how this new variant is extremely contagious and how another wave is sweeping through. Under every article I see on social media there’s the laugh reactions and the comments about how it must be an election year and how the pharmaceutical execs must need a new yacht. It’s all just a joke now, right?
There’s less often an article or even a comment about people like us who never stopped masking in crowds and stores, who worry about the possible long terms effects when we eventually become infected. People who have disappeared from public life to one extent or another because they have varying levels of acceptable risk. The youngling and I are not even all that bad off compared to some and it’s still a strange no man’s land that we now exist in.
While spending a couple of days on the couch, in between binge watching whatever, we spent a lot of time talking. The death of Dad3 came up and I mentioned that if he had to go before he and us were ready at least he died before the plague. He wouldn’t have dealt with lockdown well and while he was sick we were able to gather and support each other for that long, harrowing month at the hospital. We were able to be there when he died. We were able to mourn together, everything from packing into the funeral directors office to write the obituary as a family to holding a wake where we needed police to control the traffic. My hand was held or I was hugged by literally hundreds of people who came to pay their respects. Yeah we all ended up with a cold afterwards but the odds were against us and we weren’t worried about getting anything worse than the flu.
Can’t even imagine taking that kind of risk now.
So we took our chances with con and plague is now upon us. We sit here on the couch trying to keep the anxiety hamsters under control as we wait to see what our fates will be.
I’m cautiously optimistic because I’m 7+ days out but I’m still waiting to see if this wakes up my underlying pneumonia. The youngling has her own anxiety hamsters to squash down but she’s an adult now and handling them well.
All we can do is wait and hope it passes without causing permanent harm
I let Greg up on the couch last night so the youngling could have the comfort of the orange boi. She needed him more than I needed not to want to claw my eyes out from allergies.
That’s what love is.
Do those laughing emoji people with their snarky comments know what that is?
