The prequel
Have a look at this picture to the left here. What do you think it could be? Nope, it is NOT a pregnancy test! This old factory is protected by cobwebs and curses, so definitely no pregnancy here. So, what then?
Let me set the scene… I went to bed on a recent Friday evening, buffered from life’s challenges and woes by the love, snores, and farts of my much-loved pack of house wolves. I wish I could claim that I was equally buffered by the wolves, from the ever-present evildoers seemingly lurking under every bush and in every pothole nowadays. But alas, any criminal repelling in this household must be provided by the 50+-year-old, rather decrepit I daresay, human.
This damn six-pack of furry free-loaders ran to ME the other day, fur so acutely on end, that they resembled a punk-rock band, complete with requisite demonic howls. All this commotion was the result of nothing more dramatic than the outside gate blowing open in a particularly strong gust of wind! This was their chance to run free like their lupine ancestors, wreak vengeance upon the neighbor dogs who are forever teasing them through said gate, maybe suss out potential better homes but noooooo……….these damn pansies ran to mommy for protection against the poltergate….
The Vanity
Anyway, back to the not-pregnancy test. As I said, I went to bed, snuggled in with the wolves and drifted off. I was blissfully unaware of the snot storm lurking in my future. Had I but suspected, I might have burned some sage, danced naked in the moonlight, and fortified my inner crone with multiple fruity G&Ts to ward off the rapidly approaching trouble.
But, like any too-old-for-your-shit wiseass, I was vain and arrogant and thought myself untouchable… After all, I had followed all the guidelines to the letter, been there, and got the T-shirts. I was an untouchable warrior, damn it!
The Descent
Woke up in the early hours of Saturday morning with my first thought (after the inevitable “ooooh ooooh, gotta pee!!!”) being that either I must have mummified myself in the duvet overnight or, that one of the bigger wolves was sleeping on my chest because I could hardly breathe! As someone with a slight tendency towards claustrophobia, the feeling of being trapped by duvet or dog, lit all my panic buttons at once! I kung-fu-panda’d my way out of the bed at lightning speed, in the process almost sending one of my poor pugs flying eyeballs first into the wall.
Upon realizing that I was in fact not being murdered by my duvet, my dogs, or myself, I did the usual “get out of the way, dog!” shuffle to the loo in the load shedding-induced pitch black. Didn’t think of anything else until I got there…if you know, you know.
I was brailling my way around against the wall next to the loo for the paper when I realized again that I was struggling to catch a breath! Crap-on-a-cracker, my chest was on fire too! Oh joy, I thought, a summer cold…in the heat…during load shedding! Stomped back to bed to sulk about my fate and try to get back to sleep. Ha! I tricked you! There is no such thing as getting back to sleep any time after 2 am when you’re over 50, especially when your bitch bladder has just woken up, choosing violence as usual.
So there I lay, feeling more tired and more miserable by the minute. Naturally, by the time the day broke, I felt pretty uninspired to live, love, laugh. My woes grew and multiplied over the weekend so that by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, I was googling bronchitis symptoms. Now, I am sure you all know by this point in my tale, what evil had befallen me but I remained unaware and blinded by my degree from the University of Google which had diagnosed bronchitis.
The Doctor
Monday morning early, I was on the Medicross website, booking an appointment with the first available GP. Fell asleep in the waiting room but was awoken by a cough that tried to escape directly through my rib cage, just in time to hear my name being called.
The doctor took one look at me and asked me when “all this started” and “Does your lower back hurt”? How did he know, I asked. My lower back was indeed in agony. The doctor announced that we needed to do a “rapid Covid test”! Say what now?? What about the bronchitis test? At this point, I was proudly proclaiming my fully vaccinated and boosted status, confident that Covid could not possibly have touched me a second time!
My doctor nodded indulgingly but was undeterred from his mission. He gently grabbed me by the back of my neck as if he were planning something vastly different from sticking that infernal swabstickthingy all the way into my left eyeball via a snotty nostril. I cursed him in unknown tongues but could not see if my barbs hit their target because of all the tears and snot….
Say what?
So, at last, back to the not-pregnancy-test. By now, you have no doubt realized that it is a rapid Covid test stick! Like a pregnancy test but with snot. And you are only positive for seven days not for all eternity and beyond like with pregnancy, so, silver linings…
I admit that I was bloody annoyed that this verkakte Covid virus had the gall to attack me a second time! Right past all the vaccines, boosters, essential oils, and whatnot. I must say, however, that this time was definitely not as utterly horrific as the first time so I suppose the stupid vaccines did do something. Now, that “something” could have been a multitude of things but obviously none of them related to actual prevention.
I spent a week in isolation, working from home after two days’ recovery in bed. I had the Six-Pack to work on my nerves and keep me company. I had huge bright red vitamins to ward off further damage. The recovery was quick and relatively painless, thankfully.
I truly hope and pray that this second round of the damn virus will not result in even more hair loss for me. The first time, it hit me hard enough in the hair department and frankly, I have not fully recovered from that assault and I don’t have hair to spare.
I have no idea how or where the virus snuck into my life yet again. All I can say is don’t stop sanitizing and if anyone so much as sneezes in your vicinity use your sanitizer to beat them and any demons they may be unleashing, into submission.
I wish you all good health and no Covid, ever again.
Chat soon,
I use images from the following providers in all my posts and social media: Freepik; Canva
