I Don't Have COVID

Neither does Giblet, but that's another story... or maybe the end of this one.  In any event, I digress.... if one can digress before one begins.  

I've had a hard time sleeping these last few nights, which is unusual for me.  I've been over-heated, twisted in the covers, and kept awake once my eyes opened by the annoying dry cough caused by my blood pressure medicine.  I attributed my weariness to that.  

But this morning, on my way to take JannyLou to a doctor's appointment (can you call it a doctor's appointment when you see a PA?), my head hurt.  I took some Advil and a Bayer, and nothing got worse... for a while.  By the time I got home, though, my throat was scratchy and my body felt crappy and I needed to lie down..... immediately.

I was very glad that I was wearing a mask while we were in the office; I just knew I had COVID.  After all, I hosted a party for 35 strangers on Sunday night - who knows what viruses were floating around?  I began to feel awful about hugging My Yogi goodbye after lunch yesterday;  she wondered if we should get that close while I was blissfully moving in for her touch.  At least we didn't kiss, we agreed, and smiled.  

Would she be smiling when I called and told her that I had COVID?  JannyLou is in the midst of moving; being exposed is the last thing she needs on her plate.  Did all the party participants require notification?  As I began to spiral further and further down that rabbit hole, my attempts to nap were thwarted.  

Should I take a COVID test?  Of course I should take one of the two home tests I have in the cabinet.  But I was scared.  I didn't want to know.  But I had to know, because treatment must be started early.  But I didn't want to isolate myself, not with most of The Brownie List undone.  

But I wasn't getting anywhere in the sleep department, so I took the test in its cardboard box to the vanity table in my bathroom, and began to read.  This is not a test for home use introduced the instructions.  There was verbiage referring to Pictures 3-6, which corresponded to Pictures 1-4 when I put the words and the line drawings together, and the directions required a few readings before I had the full picture of what went where and how it got there and for how long it stayed there and what the result would look like.

I swabbed and inserted and squeezed and dripped and within seconds the red line went to the C - I don't have COVID.

I immediately began to feel better.

I still have symptoms, but they are unlikely to become life threatening.  What remains from this morning is a vague sense of unease.  It's true that every headache I have is a brain tumor unless diagnosed otherwise - my family has laughed at me about that for years.  But now my paranoia is more focused. It  feels less like psychosis and more like appropriate concern.

Remember Giblet?  He came home from day care with a fever, and went straight to the doctor to check for COVID.  He got the paperwork that will allow him to return to school - a much more official note from the doctor than G'ma ever provided for me when I ran a temperature.

I don't have COVID.  Neither does my grandson.  I can't believe I wrote an entire post about having a cold.