I’m day four into my first go ’round with Covid-19. It’s astonishing, really, given that I have worked continuously, in person, with tiny children, that I haven’t gotten sick sooner. Man, Covid is no joke. I’ve been SICK.
I had planned on doing this week’s TKUG post on the brief glory that is my wisteria arbor in full-bloom. The thing is, I can’t smell it. Sometime around the evening of Day 2, I lost my sense of smell and taste.
It could all be so much worse, though.
I’m sick, but I’m not dangerously sick. I’m not worried about having to go to the hospital or anything like that.
But if I did need to go to the hospital, I have health insurance to pay for it.
And I am not worried about losing my job because I am out sick.
My husband (masked up and from a comical distance) is taking excellent care of me, while trying his darndest to not get sick himself.
My pharmacy tech son has kept me supplied in over-the-counter medications. My horticulture-obsessed son has been taking care of my plants and worms (he gave me a worm bin for Mother’s Day, because he gets me). My daughter has been sending me grandson videos. My Sisterfriends have checked in on me every day. My parents have sent unsolicited medical advice to make me laugh. My in-laws have sent their concern.
I am feeling lousy, but I am also feeling loved.
It could be so much worse.
Sick Pilgrim 