Fletcher: The Lost Days

We are on Day 885 to slow the spread.

In the beginning of our pandemic lockdown, I started counting the days here. Somewhere in the 200s, I gave up. It just wasn’t funny anymore.

We’re not done with COVID yet. In fact, I’m convinced we never will be. The CDC recently released revised guidelines that we should have had from the beginning. That’s another post. That’s another argument.

Just like I did.

Up until a week and a half ago, I had managed to avoid becoming infected. That, in spite of my son and wife both testing positive right after Christmas. That after being in a cast and working in an amusement park where the virus spread like wildfire.

But, a month ago, I returned to in person work in the office. And, two weeks ago, I went back to the gym.

Where did I catch it? No idea.

Here I am double vaxxed and once boosted, and I take a bucket of immune supporting supplements every day.

Uncle.

It started as a sore throat. I thought perhaps it was irritated because I’d been doing some deep cleaning in the older offspring’s room. I stirred up a lot of dust.

By that night, I had to sit up to sleep because of the coughing. By the next night, I had the congestion and fever.

So, on a Saturday morning when I couldn’t find a drive-thru test, I went to Patient First for what turned out to be a three-hour tour.

A. Three. Hour. Tour.

Those three hours were the most miserable of the entire experience. I had to sit in the waiting room, in a mask, not able to breathe.

But I got the test. Got the confirmation. And the doctor called in a prescription for Paxlovid.

Saturday and Sunday were the worst of the days. But by the evening on Sunday, most of the respiratory stuff had subsided.

How long does it take to get over COVID?

In my experience, roughly one season of Project Runway Junior, three seasons of Dr. Who, and eight Harry Potter movies.

I was firmly planted in the comfy chair. I managed to grab my notebooks, my book to read, my pens, and a few other things to work on during recovery.

NARRATOR: He worked on none of those things.

More than the respiratory distress, there was the fatigue. No, there IS the fatigue. I’m not over it yet. And that’s on top of Last Summer’s Great Unpleasantness™.

I found myself thinking for several days “I need to be working on…(fill in the blank).”

But then I found myself thinking “No, I don’t,” and wondering if said task was even that important to begin with.

Uh oh.

I mean, I have a list of things I do on a routine basis. These are designed for self-improvement, for creativity, and for moving me closer to that retirement date.

I did look at the list and thought…”Meh…”

That’s not a bad thing. It made me ask whether I was getting any benefit from all of these activities. If you’re a long-term reader, you know that I’ve already been trying to pare things down to what is most important.

COVID made me ask the question of what is really important.

I’m working my way back out of recovery, but I’ve yet to fully answer that question.

The respiratory stuff is over. I’m out of quarantine. But I’m still tired.

Saturday I posted this as my status on Facebook:

Post COVID yard work plan.
Work: 30 minutes
Rest: 30 days
#manageable

In some ways I’m frustrated with the time I lost.

We’re in a very busy August that includes my wife returning to school (today), my older son now in Atlanta, coming back for the rest of his … stuff, and the younger son moving on campus for his sophomore year at Randolph-Macon.

Losing a week and a half was very much not fun.

Yet here we are.

I didn’t expect to get COVID. It derailed my plans. It changed my schedule. It changed my focus.

I feel like I lost a week and a half. In reality, we’ve all lost two and a half years.

Did we need to? Again, another post, another argument.

I can’t get any of that time back. Time is not a renewable resource.

It’s futile to try to speed things up to make up for that time. We just move forward as we can.

I’m trying to think of a pithy ending, but too much of the post-COVID fog remains.

Someone cue the music, I need to get off this stage.

Cross-posted from The Write Side of My Brain

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