Vol. 40: I got COVID

Well, the thing that I have been terrified of for the past two years finally happened. I got Covid.

A couple weeks ago I saw an article on Twitter, maybe it was a Bloomberg or a Newsweek piece that discussed how some scientists wanted to study those who haven’t gotten Covid in the past two years of the pandemic. What causes it, they wondered, is there some super immune system? I rolled my eyes because I know the primary reason I hadn’t yet gotten it: Privilege. Both my wife and I work full time from home. We live in a county that is highly vaccinated and has maintained indoor mask mandates for a very long time, up until only recently. She has a car. We don’t have children. We’re able to social distance in ways others without the same socioeconomic privileges as us aren’t. That said, I still thought to myself: “maybe I have this super immune system they’re speaking of.”

I spent the first year of the pandemic feeling incredibly judgmental on social media of any and everything others were doing. Maybe some of it was justified. I still believe that there is and was individual choice in the way we respond to the pandemic and how that displays our values, our commitment to those who are immunocompromised, disabled and/or chronically ill (a community of which, to be clear, I'm not personally a part of). To those who have no financial choice but to work in person, customer facing jobs throughout the pandemic. There has been so much ableism throughout the pandemic, and there have also been too many white communities that, once it became clear that the pandemic was disproportionately affecting Black and Indigenous communities, loosened restrictions or put their guard down. These are not my values; for me, masking and limiting gatherings in 2020 and early 2021 was deeply rooted in my race and class analysis, and commitment to a better world.

I also know that sitting at home judging others for their activities was not good for me mentally, especially as we dragged on into the second year and got vaccinated.

The long and short of it is I was very locked down for the first year of the pandemic, and then after being vaccinated, I still somewhat limited my indoor dining or gathering depending on the peaks and valleys of the pandemic. But recently, I let my guard down. I went to concerts. I dined inside on date nights that rejuvenated a relationship that has been affected by spending all day, every day together for the past two years. I even went into the office for the first time since March 2020. And I woke up on Sunday morning, the day after an incredible Maxwell concert, with a sore throat.

I haven’t been happy with the government's response, with the lifting of mask mandates and the prioritization of capitalism over vulnerable lives, but I was so burnt out by judging others that I didn’t mind getting into an elevator with an unmasked person, that I didn’t feel some type of way about other concert attendees not wearing masks - even when I wore mine (maskless white men on the metro, I did judge you. Everyone else is wearing one. Please.). On Sunday I thought, well I was signing my ass off to Ascension while wearing a K-N95, so I must just be losing my voice.

I laugh at the fact that I got Covid even though the virus itself is very serious. It’s comical - I tried SO hard for two years to avoid it and then I stopped trying as hard and I got it. It’s also funny because no one in my nuclear family had the virus for years and then in the same week, my brother and I both had it states apart.

By Monday night, I had a fever. My at home test was negative but I knew something wasn’t right and asked my wife to sleep separately to be safe. I don't play with my wife's health. I was so worn out, I went to bed at 4 PM. On Tuesday morning, I was supposed to go into DC for a work meeting, and was mentally debating how I would reschedule if I was negative given how poorly I felt, when my rapid test came back positive.

I felt like shit, with almost all symptoms - low grade fever, chills, aches, headache, congestion and the worst sore throat of my life. The timing was terrible for me work-wise, but I had no choice but to do nothing but rest and send maybe 3 emails a day through the brain fog.

On Wednesday, I started feeling a little better and told one of my close friends, who had the virus in January 2021 before she was vaccinated, that I didn’t have chills anymore, just a sore throat. She texted me, “The sore throat was my final symptom - that means you’re near the end!” Then I woke up on Thursday feeling worse than I felt on Tuesday. I cried so hard, with my wife begging me to take a deep breath over the phone from the next room. I was so sad to be apart from her, to feel so isolated, both of us lonely in our own home. This shit felt never ending.

In 2015, when we had been dating long distance for nine months, I had a freak period that put me in the hospital for a week. I needed seven blood transfusions; it was dramatic and scary. My mom flew in from Michigan but my wife (then girlfriend) was unable to come from West Virginia where she lived. In the years since, when we’ve talked about this week, she’s told me how hard it was that she was not by my side, how she never wants to be far from me when I’m suffering again. For the past week, she has been double masking and bringing me chicken noodle soup, tea with honey or lime popsicles. I mask up before she enters for drop off and we have a HEPA air filter blasting constantly in the bedroom. Otherwise we are apart. She has been walking the dog herself, working, caring for me, all while sleeping on the couch. I wanted her to hold me in 2015 and I want her to hold me now, but more than that I want her to stay safe and healthy even if that means staying isolated til I’m no longer contagious.

The more I feel comfortable with my own identity and place in the world and the ways in which I’m trying to make it better, the more I am comfortable with the idea that “hard is not relative, hard is hard.” Sometimes when I miss hugging my wife or touching her from my isolation, I call her and ask her to come out on the balcony where she does a silly dance I can see from my window. I think about how over 800,000 Americans and more worldwide have died needless deaths, many alone in the hospital, traumatizing healthcare workers, funeral home directors, and their family who couldn’t be by their side in their final moments. I am sick but I am nowhere near death. For that I am lucky. This virus has caused so much harm, and it’s okay that I was sad that I can’t hug my wife because I desperately want to keep her safe.

All typos and weird tense choices are the responsibilities of COVID brain fatigue. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to Bae or I after we shared on social media that I had COVID. Your love & support means so much!