So much for my immuno-superiority

After so many years of dodging the covid bullet, I started to chalk it up to a my superior immune system. This was, of course, a ridiculous assumption, espectially given the evidence that my immune system is not all that superior. I have a couple of minor - and harmless, harmless-to-me anyway -  auto-immune conditions: sarcoidosis (which has been in remission for decades) and vitiligo (white patches on my arms and legs that aren't really all that noticeable, given how white I am to begin with). If anything, my immune system is a tad wacky. Maybe even wacky enough to ward off covid.

I also thought it might be some weird genetic thing. Even though almost everyone I know has had covid, until this year (when my sister Trish had a minor case) my 4 sibs and I have been covid-free. Even after Trish's outbreak broke our run, I thought it could still be some genetic thing. After all, Trish has the gene that makes cilantro taste like soap, while I don't.

But that theory of the case perished last Monday, when I tested positive.

I had been feeling punk on Sunday - tired, soar-throaty, swollen-glandy, head-coldy, coughy-coldy - so mostly I laid low for the day. Not a bad cold. I've had a lot worse. But annoying. 

By Monday morning, still feeling tired and crappy, I decided to call in sick to my volunteer job, letting them know I would probably be in on Tuesday. All I needed, I told myself, was some rest and OJ. And, salt. Yeah, salt. That's the ticket: potato cihps.

I didn't think whatever it was was much of anything, but decided I should probably take a covid test to make sure I was okey-dokey and well enough to go into St. Francis House.

Turns out, when I got out my supply of covid tests, all the kits were  expired - a few months past the FDA extension -  so I went out to my local and got a fresh one. 

BINGO!

Even before I started the 15 minute timer the test line had turned dark pink. As in almost black pink. An indication that I was carrying a good-sized viral load.

Truly, I was surprised. After all this time, I really had started to think that I was immune. 

Ah, no.

I emailed my doctor to get her advice on whether to Paxlovid or not to Paxlovid, and one of her PA's got back to me, suggesting a virutal visit with another PA. 

We talked through the pros and cons and although, by virtue of age, I was eligible for the drug, given my good health and minor symptoms, it was entirely up to me. So I took a pass. Why gunk up my system when the risk of covid turning into a hospital stay, let alone a death sentence, was nano-low.

All that was left to do was text my near and dear to let them know the news, and settle in.

I was concerned that I may have passed germs on to my brother Rich and niece Caroline, as I'd seen them on the prior Saturday. But so far so good. 

Alas, I had to back out of Friday's Noah Kahan concert at Fenway. 

And, of course, I had to beg off my volunteer work at St. Francis House until I test negative.

But mostly, since my covid bout has been so mild, there's been nothing to do but kickback. So I've been lolling around, mostly reading - can't bear to watch the news - and watching some baseball (including the All Star Game, where Jarren Duran of the Red Sox was named MVP). 

And ordering a bunch of small things from Amazon:

• More covid kits
• Lysol anti-bacterial wipes
• A few books (not like I don't have plenty of books sitting around, but I wanted to finally finish the Don Winslow Rhode Island trilogy, and a friend had just texted me a recommendation - Jeannette Haien's The All of It - and while I normally try to get all my books from my indie, desperate times...)
• Marcona almonds (amazingly difficult to find in person)
• Vicks VapoInhalers

Fortunately, my larder is always stocked and, as I'd done a good-sized shop last Saturday, I had plenty of fresh fruits and veggies. Bonus when I remembered that i still had a couple of loaves of Irish soda bread in the freezer. So, nummers. 

Too hot to do much walking outside, but I've been managing to get 5 miles a day in by just pacing around here. (I do have a treadmill, but it needs to be oiled, and I'm not up to that at the moment. Cough, cough.)

Once I test negative: back to my normal life. Back to St. Francis House which is, in all likelihood, where I picked up covid to begin with. Not pointing fingers, but this is the most crowded place I frequent and there are a lot of germ vectors floating around those halls. Regrettably, I haven't been wearing my mask since winter, nor have I been hand sanitizing my hands as regularly as I once did. This when there was a small outbreak at SFH a few weeks ago. Back to masking, once I return - which is too bad, because it makes it a lot more difficult to communicate with our guests...

Anyway, while I've awaited negativity, I've mostly been lazing around, feeling like some combo of the Seven Dwarves: Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy. Maybe a teensy-weensy bit Happy, given that my case has been so mild. Luckily, I haven't needed Doc. (All that's missing is Bashful. Aw...)

On Friday - Day Five - I tested, and the positive popped instantly and "loudly" (if an immediate dark line can makes a noise). 

On Friday evening, I was able to attend the Noah Kahan concert via livestream. Not as much fun as being live at Fenway, but it was a great concert and a lot of fun. (When Noah's family all came on the stage for the finale - Stick Season - and sang and danced with him. Then, as Noah was leaving, they played the Red Sox anthem, Sweet Caroline, and all 38,000 fans sang along in good old Fenway fashion. As I did, sitting in my den.)

Yesterday, I took another covid test, and I'm still strongly and instantly positive. So, still no St. Francis House. Maybe later this week...

Mostly, when it comes to covid, I'm thankful. Thankful that the regular vaccinations I've gotten have kept this manageable, as has also been the case for millions upon millions of others. While some people are claiming they were better off four years ago, they must have forgotten the NY scenes of the ambulances careening through the streets, the makeshift morgues.

And I'm still a bit bummed o find that my immune system ain't all that superior.

Sigh...