I woke up this morning feeling strong and told Maria that today was the day that I returned to normal, and she said, directly as usual, “no, it isn’t. You’re better but still sick.”

I got a message from another amateur Freud online saying that she suspected after reading my blog yesterday that I was faking it after reading my daily blogs. I was so happy and busy, she said,  that I had to be exaggerating or faking my illness.

Besides, she said, too smart to be fooled: I had taken the car for a ride. I must be milking it!   I decided to take this as a compliment.

Maria and I did get a good laugh out of that one message. You can either laugh or cry. We prefer to laugh. We aren’t the only people in the world with foggy heads.

 

 

I am pretty happy – I went to a food shop a few miles into town yesterday and am busy. I’m proud to say I haven’t missed flower pictures even one day.

The reality is, as always, a bit more complicated. The main Covid assault on us is easing, leaving some lesser messes and issues to clean up. Two or three times a day, we look each other in the eye and ask: “can you believe this?”

The aches in my legs and joints are easing.

I still can’t taste anything and am congested and coughing occasionally. I can feel my body working to delete the virus and its aftermath. Fatigue is the big thing now.

Maria also feels better each day but needs to rest in the afternoon and evening. She is in her studio now, making some beautiful art. That’s what comes from a beautiful soul.

 

 

Another issue is my diabetes. Covid has fun with people with diabetes. I erupted in various hives and blotches last week, which happens to diabetics when they get viruses. Covid is everywhere in the body, and so is diabetes. My blood sugar numbers have been all over the place.

Diabetes is a circulation disease, and so is Covid. They are both fighting over me.

To make things worse, the doctors now talk of short and long covid cases that last a day and stretch out for weeks and months. You don’t know which one is yours until you get it and live it. My hunch is that mine is on the shorter end, but it’s still too soon to tell.

Whenever I think it’s over, it isn’t. Yet I am getting better every day. Yes, it isn’t apparent.

These hives are easing.

A more serious issue is my heart and lungs. I have severe sleep apnea – my heart stopped 80 times an hour when I slept.

Since using a sleep apnea mask, the number dropped to one or two in average hours, and my pulmonologist was thrilled.

The other issue is fatigue. I am exhausted three or four times a day and have to lie down. When I get up, I’m fine.

Since Covid, all that work and planning went to hell, and the breathing “events” shot up to 10 and 12 in just a day or two.

We are still working to stabilize that, switching masks and adjusting the air pressure in the shows.

I am going to the bank today and then to the Mansion to drop off $300 for food for the residents and the aides when they go to the Washington County Fair on Wednesday.

We are still scrambling on the transportation plans and vehicles, but we will get everyone there. Free tickets are waiting at the gate; everybody will have money for food and rides if they wish. This will be very special for the residents who can make it their first outing in a long time. Thanks so much for your help.

I am frantic to get back to work, which means some traveling.

I know I can’t go near the Mansion residents mid-week, but later on, I might be able to get to Bishop Gibbons to meet a student who wants to be a writer.

I also hope to attend Maria’s belly dancing performance on Thursday at the Bennington Museum. She’s not sure she can make it either; that would be disappointing.

The nurse says one day at a time.

By mid-week, there is no danger of my being contagious, but there might be some danger of getting Covid or a variant again. Many vaccinated people are experiencing often less severe repeats than the original but still profound repeats.

And there is a rebound after Paxlovid, the anti-viral drug.

I’d rather skip getting sick again.

Slouching towards normal is the right way to describe it, I think. Big Bad Covid is moving out of my body, leaving some of his cousins behind. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.