Thursday, December 31, 2020

The Covid Year





It was February 2020.

The husband walked in the door each night at 3 AM.
He was working an oddball swing shift schedule.
Somewhere between half awake and somewhat asleep I'd yell out,

"Are you sick yet?"
"Do you feel ok?"

He didn't have to ask how I felt.
The coughing told the story, which was normal for this time of year.
It was the usual tickle cough that annoys the husband, keeps him awake and seems to last for weeks.
Every year or three, this is the routine, for me.
I headed to the guest bedroom so he could sleep.
I really didn't want the husband to catch whatever
it was I 
had.

I spent a week-ish on the sofa. 
My energy was, for certain, sapped.
Perhaps, I briefly had fever. Maybe.
Perhaps, I felt a bit short of breath. Probably.
The urgent care doctor and the x-rays said it was most likely bronchitis.
I took the meds. Maybe they helped. Some.



It was February 2020.
This is what we thought.  


The weeks progressed and I eventually returned to being completely, probably, healthy.  But by then, our daily life had been upended.  Our work schedules had been drastically changed.  The toilet paper and the flour and the yeast and the blue Top Ramen were missing from the grocery store. Both kids moved back home. The college boy brought with him a 3 pack of Lysol wipes that he had yet to use.  We hoarded them like they were gold. 

And masks. 

We have them now. Sigh.



We joked about this being made into a movie.
We thought it would be short lived.
It was just a hiccup.
The precautions,
and the lockdowns.
Temporary, of course.
We hoped.

It was not.



It is now 10 months later.  
This will definitely be made into movie.
My February "bronchitis" might have been the Covid.
One kid is still at home; the other kid is back home 
for an extended winter break from college.
The husband and I are both essential workers.   
He solves big problems. I help feed the school children.

We wear masks the whole day.


And yet, we still go on. Luckier than many.
We still look for the good in every day.
Usually we find it.

I suppose this shall be temporary.
Someday we will look back.
Shaking our heads, saying, 
"Can you believe that really happened?"

We hope.


Fingers crossed. 


Knock on wood.