COVID! Isolated and Feeling Frustrated!

It finally happened. I got infected with COVID and this is my Covid story!

After running from it in the opposite direction, arms thrown in the air above my head, with double masks digging into my chubby cheeks, threatening to permanently dent the unusually soft-formed bone of my nose ... I finally got it. Two years into this pathetically sad pandemic ... I finally fell sick. Oh and just as I had expected, because someone else around me was careless. 

*Smacks her head*

Yes, it happened because someone else had no concern and didn't take Covid seriously enough. I know, it is a pandemic, and nobody can really truly be blamed. Trust me, several people are at fault in my case and this could easily have been avoided especially now that there are vaccines around and the worst variants are behind us (hopefully forever!). It irks me beyond imagination and angers me beyond control as I sit here isolated, all alone.

It all started with one phone call. A dinner invitation. From my brother's in laws. We had been avoiding socializing without masks ever since Covid began and I was still against the idea even though the world had eased up considerably about it. But I guess Desi parents can just not say no to in laws, right? I mean, that's such a HAWWWW thing to do right? I told mama not to go because it wasn't just the in laws who would be there, they'd called over a few random other guests. I say random because my mother didn't even know who all was invited. It was a PRE-EID dinner, they said and after much protesting I found nobody listening to my cries about how obviously Covid-catching this whole situation was. So my parents (both old, diabetic, and in Dad's case with concerning blood reports being evaluated by doctors) decided to go. Abbie and I stayed back that night. Bro, SIL, the kiddos, my parents, and their not-the-best immune systems went for this pre-Eid dinner. Mama came back telling us half the guests were sick. Their kids were coughing their lungs out, somebody was so bad they were shivering, and this while the ladies sat boasting about how they never stopped partying even before vaccines were available. Other topics discussed included why vaccines were useless and forced upon everyone. *Slow claps* If idiocy could be awarded, I'd be the one honoring these people on stage gladly.

I knew that night that it would be bad news. But the idiocy didn't stop there. My Dad got his first flu-ish symptoms immediately the very next morning but did he tell us? No. Let me pause again because ... *slow claps* The man hid his symptoms because to fall sick is to show human weakness right? He hid it for at least three days after which he called me over to his room to ask for an anti-allergy medicine. I insisted he tested and stayed in his room for a bit. He insisted they were just normal allergies that come and go and that he was a perfectly fine godly being descended straight from the heavens. The next few days he sneezed and coughed around the entire world while I went to get groceries wearing a tightly fitted mask thinking I was being such a good girl.

If your opinions match with those of any of the individuals mentioned above, this is your cue to leave and stop reading. If you're an educated individual like me who takes their health and the health of those around you seriously, please continue. I'm angry and frustrated, in case you can't already tell.

I woke up on Saturday's Eid morning, a week from THE dinner, feeling like I was coming up with seasonal allergies. Having zero clue that a man inside my very own house was hiding Covid symptoms, I took Allegra like I always do and continued about with my usual routine. Then began the diarrhea. Again, pooping is not much of an alarm when you have IBS. It was not uncommon for me to get stomach disturbances, especially hormonal related. I had fun that night, celebrating Eid with the kids and the rest of the fam. I slept okay through the night but the next day more diarrhea followed. I had to take medicine to stop it and kept on going feeling tired and drained from all the trips to the bathroom. 

That Sunday night was when I realized something was up that wasn't normal. I felt uneasy and weird throughout that night, feeling like I had to sit up in bed and open my mouth wide to breathe properly. It was an uncomfortable night and I woke up feeling queasy and nauseous. My neck hurt like crazy, my back hurt, my legs hurt. I decided to take the test because it was the right thing to do. I will not lie, I am not being dramatic even though I am usually a drama queen ... I have actual goosebumps typing this because I don't think I'll ever forget the stomach-sinking feeling of that moment. Much to my horror, it came out positive. I wasn't expecting it to, to be honest. It was a shocker. But it was a solid T line. Instant and so dark and solid, staring back at me.

The rest was all panic. I masked up and went straight to Dad to force him to swab because I was positive. Again, please get me the idiocy award ... he resisted. He kept insisting the test would be positive because I was doing it and my hands had Covid germs on it. (Like seriously, you've got to be kidding me, right?!) This, while he continued to cough and speak through a congested nose. And of course, he tested positive. He was banished to his room, something that should have happened on that first symptom showing up. Mama and Abbie both tested negative, thank God! That was a relief. But that also meant I was to isolate my positive-Covid-infested self. I locked myself up inside my room. Since then, I've been in here. Alone and feeling extremely frustrated. I'll save my Covid-blog for another time but it's not been fun. I tested again yesterday, on the sixth day of isolation, and much to my disappointment, I'm still positive! (CDC, I'm looking at your five-day isolation nonsense!)

This feels horrible, just pathetic. I don't know if I'll even test negative at the end of the tenth day or not and I don't care what the CDC says but I'm not leaving this room until I finish Covid without infecting the rest of the family. I just want to say that being sick and alone is not okay, it's just not okay. When I needed to be hugged by my sister the most, I couldn't, to save her from falling sick. Covid sucks. It just sucks. I've cried numerous times in this room just because I feel so stuck and lonely, I'm tearing up as I type too. And all this because some guests didn't take care and then didn't bother saving others from it. 

There's just one single thought that's keeping me going right now ... that somehow mama and Abbie tested negative, have no symptoms, and aren't sick! I'm so grateful for that! If there has to be one person in the family who suffers through this, I'm glad it is me and not them. I keep thinking of so many if-only things. If only the guests had taken care and masked up instead of boasting about being carefree and partying. If only they had informed others that they were sick instead of showing up to that dinner. If only they had cared that they'd infect somebody. If only my bro's in laws had taken care that half the guests were coughing and canceled it. If only my mother had listened to me and not gone to that darn dinner. If only my Dad had spoken up about getting symptoms and isolated in time. If only I had somehow not fallen sick and escaped it!!! IF ONLY I COULD END ISOLATION AND GIVE MY SISTER A TIGHT HUG RIGHT NOW!!!