COVID Update: I started feeling bad on Monday. Was tested Tuesday and got a positive result on Thursday. Today is Saturday. I am somewhat better and thus far this has not even been as bad as a cold. Very odd. If I were prone to conspiracy theories, I might buy into it, but I’ve read too many stories of people really suffering. I am thankful to not be one of those people. And I appreciate your thoughts, spells, candles, prayers, juju and magic. It’s working!
My boyfriend made arrangements for two pulse oximeters to be delivered to the house. For those of you without my experience, a pulse/ox is a device that measures pulse rate and blood oxygen saturation levels. It’s that thing they put on your finger at the doctor’s office.
It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received: one for me and one for my mother.
We did have a bit of excitement today. It seems that one of the pulse oxes (oxen?) doesn’t work so well. Mom’s reading came in at a 90% oxygen level and I got kind of excited. I called her doc’s office and once again he didn’t call back. I’m learning to loathe him. Finally, I called 911 and they sent EMS out to take her vitals. She’s fine — other than being sick with what is probably COVID_19.
Other than that I’ve had two naps and 12 meals. Stress makes me eat. This too shall pass.
(Connie hits “buy now” on the 40-pack of ToastChee peanut butter crackers at the Amazon.)
So, I am positive for COVID-19. My mother, whom I am sure is the person who infected me, came back negative. We tested together. Same technician. Same time. We have the same symptoms although she came down with hers two days earlier. One of us got a false result.
We’ve been told to assume we’re both positive.
So. Fun with bodies.
Both of us have symptoms of an annoying cold: not particularly bad, but just enough to be inconvenient. We don’t have fevers, trouble breathing or chest pain. Nor have we lost our sense of smell or taste.
I have spent all day trying to get results and then trying to contact Primary Care Physicians — hers and mine. It’s a good thing I don’t feel bad. It’s been pretty annoying. When one is told they have the plague, one expects to get the attention of medical personnel.
I’m sitting here thinking of all the things I should do to prepare for the possibility that I might get really sick. You know, like pack a hospital bag. Make sure I’m stocked up on pet food. Etc. I’m a tad overwhelmed by it all.
I have a strong feeling that this is going to be a mild case and I will convalesce at home. Of course, yesterday I had a strong feeling that this was a tempest in a teapot.
Of greater concern is my mom — she is right smack in the middle of the high risk category for a bad case. I’ll be watching her closely.
I really didn’t need this right now. Nope.
We’re on Day 208. I had gone back to the office because working at home was just tooooooooooooooo strange. I had my work hours and my personal hours mixed up, days and nights, workdays and weekends. It was a mess. So now, for the past few days, I’ve been working at home again.
My birthday has come and gone and there’s not much to report.
Oh, wait.
I’m waiting to hear on my COVID-19 testing results.
I woke up not feeling well on Monday. By Tuesday I was worse and my mom had the same symptoms. I called the doc. The doc said to get tested and off we went.
It wasn’t that bad. I mean, I wouldn’t do it for entertainment, but I had been led to believe it was one step short of torture. But, then again, I understand they’re not going as deep into the nasal cavity as they had been.
I still feel like crap. And tomorrow is the earliest I can get results. More likely it will be Friday.
I’ve been fairly careful. Yes, I’ve been going to the office, but in most instances there are only 4 of is in 8000 sq. ft. of space. I’m at home or I’m at work and I’m masked a lot of the time. (Oh how I loathe the mask.)
I’m pretty sure I don’t have COVID. My symptoms are vague and I don’t have the biggies — difficulty breathing, fever and loss of taste/smell.
However, I recall that way back when, they, the infamous they, said it wasn’t a matter of if you got it, it was when you got it. Hmmmm.
So there.
In other news. I quit smoking. According to the app on my phone, it’s been 1 month 24 days and change since I had a cigarette. Yay me! (Wellbutrin is a hell of a drug!)
W. Va. Fur and Root 