Every January I make a list of 20 to 30 resolutions, or goals, to meet in the coming year. For reference, in 2021, my list included 22 items and I managed to accomplish all but three. Not too shabby for a year that at times felt as long as five years and at others as short as five months.
In 2022, one of my goals is to write for 20 minutes a day or 140 minutes a week. Only nine days into the new year, I realized this morning I had only written for 60 minutes and had quite a bit of catching up to do. And now that our family is finally, personally, grappling with the virus we’ve been attempting to avoid for the better part of two years, I decided today to make up for my lost minutes and write about our four-day experience with COVID.
Here’s what I know: I may have COVID or just a small viral load or it may be too early to tell. I also might not have it at all. My test says no, Rod’s test says yes. Van is left to fend for himself.
My symptoms started on Thursday, the same day as Rod’s. Both of us felt achy and foggy and very, very tired. I also had a terrible headache. Rod spiked a bad fever and sweat through our sheets. Van faked a sore throat. We kept him home from school on Friday. I was tested off-site that day and Rod took an at-home test. His test came back positive almost immediately. My test results that came in on Saturday said I was negative. Van has yet to be tested, and my mother-in-law took him for the weekend. He’s fine.
So what’s up with me? If I don’t have COVID, am I experiencing sympathy pains for Rod? Post-Christmas exhaustion? Do I need an excuse to sleep? Am I just bored? Do I always feel this achy? Do I live with a perpetually bad headache? Is that why I take so much ibuprofen? Did I not notice until my husband said he was sick? Is this real?
Why, when I texted a friend to tell her my test was negative but Rod’s test was positive and she responded, “Interesting,” did I wonder whether she thought I was faking? Am I? Why do I think my friends think the worst of me? She doesn’t. I know she doesn’t. Or does she? She doesn’t.
Furthermore, why, after that text exchange, did I immediately try to convince myself I was feeling OK? And why did the guilt I do recognize living with on a perpetual basis that had subsided for approximately 24 hours when I thought I had COVID reappear almost immediately when I saw my negative test results? Do I only allow myself to live-guilt free when I’m sick? Did my body actually just convince my mind it’s sick so it can rid itself of the guilt that makes me ill every day? Duuuude.
I think I still feel a little achy. Or maybe it’s just my body willing me to move. It could also be guilt. It’s probably guilt. Maybe paranoia. BUT COULD IT BE CANCER???
I’ve resigned to quarantining with Rod until Tuesday. Van will stay with his grandmother tonight and go to school tomorrow. He’s 10. He’s fully vaccinated. He’s fine. I’ll work from home tomorrow and probably play catch-up tonight. You know, because guilt. My body will have to deal with it. I think I’ve had enough rest. Or have I? Maybe I’ll start to feel worse. Maybe my guilt will go away again. Maybe?
Is this COVID brain or is this just a woman’s brain? Is everyone asking the same questions? Has this pandemic driven us all insane?
I’m not nuts, right? I’m tense. I’m tired. I’m high-strung and an over-thinker, yes, but I don’t always feel this physically shitty, right? RIGHT? I’m less than two weeks from my fortieth birthday. If this is what it’s going to be like every day from here on out, I’m going to need a lot more ibuprofen.
Another one of my resolutions for 2022 is to begin seeing a therapist. Considering everything I’ve just written, it’s clear I need one. Or do I? I do. We all do.
Title Track: “Where Is My Mind?” The Pixies. Listen here.
