When the at-home test registered a positive result yesterday, I was shocked. We've self-tested so many times over the past two and a half years, and never had the second line show up. Rob and I doubted that the test would ever work, but sure enough, it does. I must have caught the virus at the Marcus Mumford concert I attended with friends last week. Few people in the (indoor) crowd wore one, but I've been lulled into a false sense of security over the years and didn't think twice about the risk. I seem to be the only one in our ten-person party to have fallen ill, which is (another) positive.
I told my sister that the concert was worth it - though I can't state that with any certainty until I'm through the illness without life-changing side effects. I've had as many shots and boosters as the doctors allow, and I'm healthy aside from the illness, but you never know with COVID. My sister has a friend who has celiac (like me) and COVID attacked her stomach and digestive tract, essentially freezing it. I'm trying to nibble on food to keep mine moving, so it doesn't forget how to work.
My daughter said this could be a well-needed break, which indicates to me that I'm either complaining too much about my packed schedule, doing too many things, or both. It's true that being forced to quarantine will give me time to catch up on the blog, on other computer tasks that need doing, but it's a solid bummer to have to stay in my room and miss work and all social things for five (or more) days. I have two trips coming up next weekend and I'm not sure if I can attend either.
But many millions of people have been down this same road - or a much more serious version of it - and I can't complain. Our house is a not-so-bad place to quarantine and I'm only awake for limited sections of each day, so it's not so hard to fill the time. My heart goes out to those sick and quarantining in much worse circumstances, and I hope everyone gets on the fast track to recovery.
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