Yesterday marked an anniversary: It was on April 4, 2020 that the City of Chicago officially released me from my voluntary COVID quarantine at a city-operated hotel. I was self-isolating after a weeklong stay at Northwestern. Doctors didn’t want me to go home until I was fever free for three days—the worry was that I might infect Beth, who, having been a type 1 diabetic for 55 years, was at greater risk for severe symptoms if she got COVID.
I got sprung a year ago.
I really wanted to just come home, but after I thought about it, the hotel was the right decision. And heck, I had a nice room (and I couldn’t leave) and three times a day I’d get a knock on my door and find a bag full of hotel bar food. (The Buffalo chicken sandwich is highly recommended.)
It was a more or less happy anniversary, though it had me flashing back to some scary times. I hope that this last week was, for me, personally, my final farewell to the whole damn episode. Last Wednesday Beth and I got our second vaccines.
And again, Beth was unfazed. And I got pretty sick for a day-and-a-half.
I felt a little funny and developed a headache during the cab ride home from the United Center vaccination site. Back in our apartment I got lightheaded and felt nauseated. “I feel funny,” I said to Beth. Recalling my passing out, falling and banging my head hard enough to have a little brain bleed a year ago, Beth simply said, “Go lie down!”
I did, and like last year when I fell ill, I got nasty chills. I fell into a deep sleep for several hours and woke up feeling washed out but otherwise fine.
I thought that was that until I woke up on Thursday morning with body aches and was dead tired. Back to bed and by Friday I was mostly fine except for the headache that persisted until Saturday.
It was if that spiky little bastard virus was taunting me: “Just a little more misery for old times sake?”
So, besides being Easter, yesterday was kind of a big deal. I outlasted the damn thing. Beth and I outlasted the damn thing.
And in those terrifying early days we leaned heavily on our friends and neighbors and family. Thank you. We are forever grateful.
Mike, there isn’t much to say except that I’m glad you are valiantly fighting this battle. Thank goodness Beth has shown a remarkable resistance to this dreadful virus. My thoughts are with both of you.
Well, I don’t know about valiant. More lucky than good.
It’s great that you are both doubled dosed. I’m single dose plus 8 weeks and waiting. So quite jealous.
That Jim. Someday, we’ll be together at argeles sur mer.
Yesterday I found myself trying to convince some guys at a place where I was leaving some household donations. As Steven said, it’s nearly impossible to change anyone’s mind. Hard to convince anyone of anything if they can deny that more than 1/2 million people dead is the same as the flu. As Dr. Birx said, WAY too late, many of those deaths could have been prevented. But I’m sure glad you (and Steven) weren’t among them.
Yeah, just read a piece in that liberal rag The Wall Street Journal that made it clear that the death toll is likely much higher.
April 14 we are officially fully vaccinated!
[…] COVID anniversaries these past few weeks have driven home how much we’ve all gone through together. Indeed, we’re not out. But Beth and I will celebrate immunity day this Wednesday, marking two weeks after our second Pfizer vaccination. We’re daring to believe the light at the end of the tunnel is not the headlight of a train. […]
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