That Bitch CoCo V v. yrmama

I’m not that sick. And no one can get a test in the state of Iowa unless they are over 60, a health care worker, resident of a nursing home or hospitalized. Our statistics count only those cases. But what would happen to the numbers if anyone who might be sick with COVID 19 were tested? What would happen if there was information gathered on the course of this illness in people who are definitely sick with it but can ride the fucker out at home? Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Helpful.

I had to check the calendar, but I think if today is April 15 (it is, I checked), I’ve been sick enough to stay mostly in my infirmary cell for almost three weeks. I’ve been well enough to say , “Hey! I feel okay! I think I’m 95% better,” and then be all queasy and shivery and headachey again. It seems kind of cyclical, like when I had malaria. With malaria it would disappear for a day, then the fever would lay me out with delirium again. The intervals got shorter. With this presumptive COVID, the cycles are less mechanical and they seem to be losing steam each time around rather than gaining. Yesterday and today the brick in my chest is back and minor exertion makes me huff and puff unflatteringly. My daughter who knows rocket scientists and Ivy League robot engineers (meaning she’s a medical expert) says that the puffing is not because I’ve grown weak and wussy, but because that bitch CoCo V is still compromising my lungs.

JM, who also had it but not so bad, and I hobble around our lair. His arthritic puffy knee hurts so I say helpfully, “maybe you should put that elastic brace on.” He counters with, “hey, that feels good! And while we’re at it you should remember you can use that inhaler.” We are that fun couple everyone wants to party with.

And despite all that, this is perversely exciting, isn’t it? I would never have guessed something might come by that shuts the whole world down like this. It’s a forced quit, a reset. I’m used to being at home a lot and being alone a lot and having everything closed further simplifies my life. I know that’s easy for me to say, as a relatively wealthy person with plenty of space who really likes all her roommates, but like everyone, I’ve got to work with what I have. If I were well enough to roam freely it wouldn’t change much.

I love knowing that everyone is doing this one way or another and resetting. We’re isolated, but a lot of folks are crawling out of the woodwork, talking and writing to all kinds of old friends. Everything is different now and I think it is going to stay different, probably in some very unpredictable ways

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