McKeegan COVID Chronicles Day 8

I promised to end my written memos sharing our experiences with the rude guest covid19, the Omicron variety, at sunset on a day when it seemed my family was past the worst of the interloper’s offerings. When I started the Chronicles, I was scared. I thought if I wrote through the worst of whatever was to come, your presence, witness, and support would help me keep my sanity. Nothing went sideways for any of us, thankfully, but I did lose my balance for a mama minute. Thank you for being here through it all.

If you are late to join, here’s where the Chronicles begin and end.

Tonight’s sunset was that day.

However, I can’t entirely keep my promise because …

I ventured out of the house today to get the PCR swabby up the schnozzy.

You do want to know the results, right? They say five days.

In case you are wondering, I was driven by the need for research data and validation of our experience. I want a definitive lab result that says the rude guest invaded my immune system. Cuz it damn sure still feels like it and Sick Kid 1’s rapid Ag test was positive.

Something else developed in me over the past 36 hours: a sense of responsibility to add to our local statistics.

Plus, I got curious. What if I had to convince Sick Kid 2 to go get a PCR test? You might recall Day 4 when I had an embarrassing mama moment resulting in SK2’s predetermined refusal to ever have a swab up his nose again. I’d need to know what it was like so I could reassure and successfully bribe him. The last time I had the PCR test, it was pretty uncomfortable. Today was so much easier than the frontal lobe probe I had in the past. I won’t have to lie!

Here’s today’s Memo outline:

  • Symptom Reports
  • Surprises
  • TTFN
  • Sunset

Symptom Reports

Sick Kid #1 (Day 8)

  • He suggested I refrain from referring to his diarhea as his big D. Sorry. That thought hadn’t crossed my mama brain. He’s little d free today. diarhea, people. He’s 17, in case you are confused.
  • first day of NO fever since this started
  • mild congestion
  • Rapid Ag test negative today – he can return to school Monday. Yay for me! OH!! AMAZON DELIVERED FIVE BOXES TODAY! We have a big stack now! Well, one box less than an hour ago, but I can knock it over and call it a pile. See Featured Photo at top of post.

Sick Kid #2 (Day 5)

  • First day of NO fever
  • mild congestion
  • We’ll have to work on the bribery scheme to get him to retest on Sunday. He needs it to return to school on Monday.

Sick Mama (Day 4)

I feel about the same as yesterday: still sick but nothing dramatic. If you feel compelled to dive into my symptom list, you can read it on Day 7, yesterday. Good times.

I rapid Ag tested today. No Red line. No surprise. Good data. I totally get it now. We expect too much from these things. I don’t trust that a negative test means you aren’t contagious. And that’s the whole point of them. It simply means the test can’t detect your body’s response to the rude guest. No one can say at exactly what viral load you become contagious. And don’t try to tell me the tests are set to detect at the exact Ag level at which you are contagious. I would call hog-wash.

Haven’t they said over and over that Omicron is the most contagious of the variants the world has endured so far? Maybe too many people are running around spreading the love all high on negative home tests. It’s really no different than the delusion that you are no longer contagious 24 hours after your fever passes with the regular flu. That’s when we send kids back to school with the flu. That’s why all the kids get sick. Duh.

That’s my theory.

Husband: Not sick.

Potential theories on why Husband is not sick:

  1. Maybe Husband wasn’t exposed to Sick Kid 1 when Sick Kid 1 was contagious. Husband had been out of town, then kept some distance from him.
  2. Husband could be asymptomatic.
  3. The interloper is incubating in Husband. He’s not past the incubation period.
  4. The pandemic is a hoax. The interloper is a regular ‘ole cold that people are just being dramatic about.
  5. Husband is built different (ask Sick Kids).

Surprise #1

That’s Big Kitty’s pee in the litterbox! I know for sure it wasn’t Roxy the Rocket trying to fool me. I put my nose down there to confirm.

He also peed all over the floor when his aim was off during some other pee event last night, but who can blame him. He’s a guy and those of us who clean toilets know about that. So glad he poops outside.

Surprise #2

I thought sharing more about Big Kitty would be fun. THIS is what we deal with day in and day out. 24/7. He saw I was recording and turned it down a notch. Watch to the end. Another minute of wasted time won’t kill you. Slow down for goodness sake.

The end of our time together is near. The party is winding down. The dishes are piled up, there are party napkins strewn about, the cheese tray has two lonely slices looking dried up on the edges. The rude guest seems to be gone but might be lurking around the front door hoping to infect the one person it couldn’t corner the past eight days.

I am sad. I won’t have an excuse to write to you every day. I don’t want you to feel abandoned, so let’s talk about this.

All good things must come to an end. Nothing lasts forever. It isn’t you, it’s me.

I know, what yer’ thinkin’: Dudette, using cliches is amateur, horrible writing. I don’t claim to be a good writer.

I will miss my nightly editing rounds. Maybe I should find something else to write about.

I will miss hearing and reading your stories you’ve so generously shared with me since our Chronicles began. Thank you for those connections.

If we have party news about Husband, I’ll get back to you, pronto. Have no fear, I’ll post my PCR results, too, because I know this last piece of data about our party with the interloper is that important to you.

I had hoped for a beautiful sunset at the end of the McKeegan COVID Chronicles, and more importantly to be able to see the beauty.

I feared drowning in the darkness of something horrid brought by covid19 (still lowercase!).

As it turned out, today’s sunset was rather mundane, much like our experience the past eight days.

Until next time, enjoy the sunsets.

In case you did or did not notice, I returned the title of my blog to its original name: Healing thru Writing & Creativity. That was the original intent and that is what feels right again. I am still me. Still a social worker in Flight and that manuscript awaits my focus. It might be a long wait because I have a lot of other things to say. Just ask my mom. Thanks for not freaking out over it.

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