It’s been just over a month since I came down with The COVID, and it’s been difficult to motivate myself to do much of anything after being sick for so long. I lost almost 25 pounds, which I’m pretty sure was mostly muscle, so it’s been a real treat forcing myself to be vertical again.
So much has happened in that time. In the first couple days of COVID, I tried and failed to become a ramen chef. We hired a new guy that started taking care of my work orders at the high school. My family packed and delivered an entire Thanksgiving dinner feast. The school board approved a really hefty Christmas bonus for everyone, so Allen actually retired, like for real. The McRib came back. Noah finally got his driver’s license, then basically had to move in with Summer when his stepmother got COVID. The kids set up the Christmas tree and baked gingerbread to make a gingerbread house. We had our department Christmas party on karaoke night, where Ben belted out a hot take of Hit Me with Your Best Shot, and Melinda introduced Summer to her friend, Jose Cuervo. The superintendent tried to leave for Conway, but didn’t get the job. Then he caught The COVID and took a 30 day leave of absence just as I tried to return to work with half days. Neither of the assistant superintendents got to fill in for him though. That privilege was given to another random assistant principal of a school.
Of course the girls got the virus too, but luckily their symptoms weren’t nearly as bad. Summer lost taste and smell, and still hasn’t fully regained either. The kids hardly felt a thing. I never lost taste aside from one questionable bowl of macaroni and cheese. I spent my blurry two and a half weeks basically bedridden, with nightly fever spikes over 104°F, and a high score of 105.6°F. I had chills and hot flashes that I legitimately thought would end me. The triage nurse nearly sent me in for a transfusion because I was so low on blood. Worst of all, I had a complete decimation of willpower that kept me from doing anything at all for over two weeks. Then I got bilateral pneumonia that carried my fever on well past the expected 10 day COVID timeline. I would probably still be laying in the floor of the shower with cold water raining down on me if Summer hadn’t eventually brought me home and taken the best care of me.
It’s been a wild ride that I don’t at all recommend, but there is some comfort in finally having “the dadgum antibodies for that crap, man.” Looking at the recovery times for pneumonia, I’m guessing I’ll have this cough for a few more months, but it’s a good time of year at work to be able to get some rest.
I’m getting better! I don’t want to go on the cart. I feel fine!