Story by Jon Stalnaker AKA The Studebaker Dude
I try to take care of myself for many good reasons. First and foremost, I don’t want to be a burden to my wife. She’s a marvelous caretaker, but she has her hands full with her mother right now. She would never complain about having to take care of her “big baby of a husband when he is sick”, but I would rather be strong and someone who is available to help her for whatever she needs. That’s why I work out 6 days a week. We’ve had healthcare workers that have been in and out of the house helping to care for Mamma. They are constantly around other patients that are not always well and a while back, one of them informed us that he was just getting over having COVID. I’ve never had COVID-19 but was not too concerned as I felt confident in my personal health and well-being. Not long after that, I started feeling sick. Sick enough to not work out. Sick enough to go to the doctor.
Well, the doctor looked me over and poked this long swab thingee up my nose and into my brain. I had to pee in a cup. He sent me down the hall to get poked again until they managed to remove some of my blood. Then I went further down the hall to the X-ray room where they took some pictures. I was pretty sick, and I went home to rest. Working out was not an option. Then a day or so later was the phone call. “You have tested positive for COVID. Better quarantine yourself for 10 days”. Now mamma being sick and all, the last thing I wanted was to infect her already weakened body with this nasty illness. So, quarantine it was, and poor Carlene was on her own to care for her mother. And her “big baby of a husband when he is sick”, that would be me. She cared for me from a distance as the worst thing we could do would have been to pass this covid on to her. Nevertheless, she managed to provide me with the appropriate medications at the appropriate times without touching me. I was pretty out of it, but I sure needed a hug. Unfortunately, hugs were out of the question. I managed to quarantine myself for the 10 days, plus. It was not fun. It was not easy. And it ain’t over yet. I can’t let her mom see me, as she would stretch out her arms for a hug, but I don’t want to touch her until I am sure that I won’t give her my cooties. I don’t think she would understand that right now. While I feel a little better, I’m not qualified to determine if I am “cootie free” yet. So, there’s another bad thing about this stupid covid, I’d sure like to give her some love, she needs it.
Avoiding being seen by Mamma means that I can’t go upstairs where my exercise equipment is. That means no working out even though I think I could do it, but I just can’t take the chance yet. I’ve been doing some walking in the back yard but that is limited. I desperately want to mow the grass, but it is too wet from the rain. Therefore, I can’t even test it to see how much energy I have floating inside this tired, bored, still a little sick body of mine. My follow-up appointment is next Tuesday. I sure don’t want to have to wait that long to get clearance, but I don’t know any other way. If I felt completely okay, I would be more willing to test the waters, but I still have a cough. I’ll just have to be patient and ride this crazy train out.
Sickness is in the house and it’s not just me. The important thing is to prioritize who gets the attention. I’m feeling a bit better, but I was never the priority. That goes to the most vulnerable, so Mamma gets the attention. As it should be. It’s easy to put my wants aside to make sure she gets all the attention she needs. There will be time to get back to normal soon. I’m looking forward to that, but I’m still sicka being sick…
