What a weekend we just had. Great NFL games to determine which teams made it into the playoffs. Klay Thompson recovered from his serious injuries, scored 17 points to aid the Golden State Warriors in a win over Cleveland. Rutgers dominated Nebraska and looked like an NCAA team. F&M was demolished by #18 Swarthmore, but that was expected. And the National Championship game between Alabama and Georgia loomed on the horizon.
Things were getting exciting in the sports world. I went to sleep happy on Sunday night.
Then Monday arrived and my world went in a far different direction. I had a sore throat like I had never had before. My voice was an indistinguishable rasp. A wave of fatigue overcame me.
I soldiered on, not thinking too much about the illness which was taking over. I stuck to my routine as best I could. But I did feel dizzy at times and had a little headache.
Monday is my weights day. Since we have stopped going to gym, due to the Omicron wave, I did my workout in the cellar of the house.
Normally a somewhat rigorous routine, this session was downright hard. I fought through it.
By Monday evening, I was feeling horrible. Everything ached. My throat was worse and I had a very hard, hacking cough. I felt like crap.
Getting through two hours of Below Deck on Bravo was excruciating. I still had the bulk of the Alabama-Georgia rematch to watch.
While it was a bruising hard-hitting affair which resulted in an exchange of field goals in the first half, I was a lot like sleepy UGA, number IX in the long, proud line of English bulldogs before him. This UGA yawned and went to sleep in front of the ESPN cameras, causing an Internet roar of its own.
As we had collectively made a decision to be tested for COVID, which would require standing outdoors in a line at 7:30 a.m., I opted to go to sleep after Alabama crept ahead 18-13. I was isolated in the cellar and I needed some rest.
I did not sleep well into Tuesday morning. Naturally, I first found out that Georgia had stormed back to overwhelm the Crimson Tide. Euphoria in The Peach State. All was not peachy for this Georgia native.
I was second in line to be tested. My fifth time getting that Q-tip up each nostril.
But I knew this was different. I still felt lousy. I had some oatmeal soon after returning to my cave. Normally a voracious eater, it took time for me to finish my breakfast.
Then I sacked out for over two hours. I went with chicken noodle soup for lunch. To help my throat. And back to sleep.
We made a group decision to get rapid COVID tests. I was the only different one. You can guess the outcome. COVID had gotten me.
Was I shocked? Somewhat. Because I wondered how I was the only one who tested positive. I tried to be so meticulous in wearing my mask. I would clean my hands and the shopping cart at the supermarket.
I had stopped going to the gym. I avoided every restaurant that I could. Yet I was infected, despite two Moderna shots and a booster administered in November. I was that magic “breakthrough” case.
I reached out to my primary care physician. She increased my Vitamin C & D dosage, told me to shower twice a day and to drink fluids including tea with lemon—which I do not like.
Despite my tired, achy body and the heavy cough, I thought I would have a good night of sports TV. Wrong.
Just like my illness, PTI and the Rutgers-Penn State game were uninspiring. RU showed once more why they are not very good, losing by 16 on the road to a not very good Nittany Lions team.
Watching the Warriors lose on the road to the red-hot Memphis Grizzlies didn’t help my disposition. Memphis looked more athletic. Ja Morant is incredible. And the Warriors beat themselves with too many turnovers, even with Steph Curry recording a triple double, scoring 27 points while accumulating 10 assists and 10 rebounds. Klay Thompson is a work in progress—he scored 14 points in 19 minutes and his defense is not quite there yet.
So I took my cough and sore throat to bed. I awoke a tiny bit better. Except that my phlegm had streaks of blood in it. Somewhat unexpected. That was the only change.
More napping, soup and hydrating led up to the inevitable—my PCR test came back positive. It was certain that I had COVID.
My PCP has prescribed a cough suppressant stronger than Mucinex or Robitussin DM to quell the cough. Writing this blog has been tougher than usual.
My plight isn’t different from many. Nobody has the exact same symptoms or time limits. I really don’t qualify for any extra medications because I don’t have any underlying conditions. Thus it is a good thing that I have maintained my health all of these years.
Nonetheless, I have no idea how the illness will play out. I’m 71 and it may impact me harsher and long-term. I am thankfully not experiencing shortness of breath—that’s the one warning sign which is most significant.
Now I have a different vantage point as I am in the throes of this illness. And little tolerance for those who believe in half-truths and who clog up hospitals citing their constitutional right to exercise their personal choice to not get a vaccine. I feel sorry for those who on their dying beds wish they had made the right choice. Maybe surviving family members will learn from this.
I have greater sympathy for the overworked health care personnel who must endure this ongoing tragedy. Or others who are forced back to work in unsafe locales.
The politicians irk me. Every one of them has a different agenda. Mostly self-serving.
Media types and fringe elements who inflame with rhetoric are no better. In effect, we are damn lucky that we developed vaccines like we did—the carnage would have been unthinkable.
Even Dr. Anthony Fauci, the most respected expert in the field of these kinds of illnesses, along with CDC Director Dr. Rochelle Walensky, have given us so much proper direction, even with some missteps. It gave me no solace when Dr, Fauci said it is inevitable that we are all going to get the Omicron variant.
There is a fallacy in the idea of herd immunity. These variants mutate. Many times over. Vaccines can only do so much. This isn’t over by a long shot. There is a great degree of uncertainty going forward, somewhat akin to my situation now.
I have no sympathy for Novak Djokovic and the machinations going on in Australia. He and his minions lied. Like Aaron Rodgers made cute false statements.
I would kick Djokovic back to Serbia and give Tom Brady the NFL M.V.P. award based on morality. Not that I am a great Brady fan. His numbers are incredible and he is first in pass attempts, completions, yardage gained, TD’s thrown and second in quarterback rating. At age 44.
I understand the number of games postponed. I am amazed how athletes recover from COViD. Perhaps they are correct that Omicron will die down soon. It sure as heck has wreaked a ton of damage.
Back to the present. I know you wish me well. As I do you. I will survive my isolation.
Stay safe.
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