Thoughts on a Positive COVID Test Day 2
Wednesday, September 8, 2021
I don’t know why I number and date these posts, like anybody gives a shit whether today is the day I showered or not. I guess I hope someday when all this is said and done and history judges all you fuckos who aren’t getting the vaccine for making a global pandemic EVEN WORSE than it had to be, like I’m judging you right now, only the historians’ judgments will be official and in history books and therefore more important, maybe diaries like these will help make some sense of all the craziness.
Wait, do you even have to shower when you’re in isolation?
Still mild symptoms of cough, congestion, and headache. No fever. Still no taste or smell, but hey, I’m not on a ventilator, so things are good.
I’m going to go insane locked in my bedroom for 10 days. The only one happy about this is Jack Tripper, my brown tabby who lives in my bedroom because he can’t be in the rest of the house without peeing in places he shouldn’t pee. He’s thrilled. Mama now eats, sleeps, works, and chills in his room. Life is good. He doesn’t care if I shower.
Ralphie, Work From Home Cat, sits outside my door and waits for me to come out. It’s heartwarming, but she’s really a bitch cat and is the reason Jack Tripper has to live with me in my bedroom in the first place.
Beth and Will were tested this morning but no results back. Waiting, waiting…good God, could it take longer?
Beth quarantines herself in her room most of the time anyway, so I suspect she’ll test negative. Will is already coughing and says he feels puny, so to the selfish asshole who infected me and now probably my kid: Fuck you.
I don’t often participate in a nationwide training class in my bed from my pajamas, but when I do, I make sure not to use the root spray on my hair because who uses root spray on their hair when they aren’t leaving their bedroom for 10 days? So instead of looking like that lazy woman attending training from her bed I look like that lazy woman attending training from her bed with a bad dye job.
Will seems better today. He’s come up to say hi a few times but hasn’t had to park himself in the hallway and look at me through a cracked door. I’ll take it.
I ate a banana for a snack and I may have tasted some sweetness. Maybe.
Where are these fucking test results? They had appointments at 8:50 a.m., and based on how quickly I’ve gotten my test results back, that means they should’ve been back by 3:00 p.m.
5:00 no test results
6:00 no test results
7:00 no test results
No flavor from steak, rice, and peas at dinner.
8:00 no test results
I mask up and head downstairs to get a glass of water. Try some watermelon. I THINK I TASTE IT! I eat another piece. I swear I can taste it. Woo hoo!
I open a beer. Blech. Tastes like plain gross seltzer water. Maybe the sweet comes back before salty, bitter, and savory? Maybe it’s just the last to go.
9:00 no test results
It occurs me to maybe I don’t have test results back because I made up the kids’ social security numbers when I was registering them because I was too lazy (and maybe too infectious) to go look for their social security numbers because I don’t have them memorized like a good mom should. I didn’t understand how important it was to have correct social security numbers until I was looking up possible delays in receiving test results and there it was: WHY IT’S SO IMPORTANT TO PROVIDE CORRECT SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBERS. Grrrr.
I am lucky I get to work from home in my pajamas since I feel mostly OK and don’t have to use sick days to isolate for 10 days. I had someone to check on me, make me dinner, and look after my babies. None of us are deathly sick and in the hospital. I am grateful.
Right before he went to bed Will asked if his results were back yet and I had to tell him no. He said, “Well, either way it’s good. If I’m negative, I’m not sick. If I’m positive, we get to cuddle again.”
That’s what all you unvaccinated dickheads are putting at risk: sweet children like this who don’t hate you like I do.
11:05 p.m. Test results back. Will is positive. Beth is negative.
Rage and anger and all the fuck yous you fucking assholes.