The Covid Diaries Revisited
Well....'tis the end of March, and thanks to sitting in a particular location at the table during a Mothers Day lunch, I'm back in the world of respiratory illness with my second bout of the lurgy. It's not as bad as my first adventure admittedly, but still pretty debilitating, and it's resulted in a few days stuck at home recovering, and avoiding other people.
Mothers day was a nice event at our house, with everyone sat around the dinner table having a laugh for a few hours. I'd just got over a nasty bout of some coughing virus which had left me physically exhausted at times, and had forced me to wear a mask when out on jobs in people's homes. 48 hours later on Tuesday evening I started feeling decidedly dodgy, and was told that my brother in law (who I'd sat next to) had tested positive for the old C19. The red line alongside the T on my last remaining lateral flow test confirmed my infection too. Damnation.
I woke the next morning feeling a bit tired, but not anywhere near as poorly as When I copped for the Kent variant back in 2020. I advised my clients that I'd be staying at home for the next few days, but was forced to go out to do a nearby job that involved a newly-refurbished, empty bungalow. I met the vendor there, and had the place to myself. Unfortunately, the house was heated to within a few degrees of the sun's surface, and it took me two hours to complete. By the end, I was starting to feel positively faint, and got back home by lunchtime - and straight to my bed. I managed to get some meds down my neck, woke up later to process the shots, and went back to sleep. The following morning, I felt sort of ok, until 10am, when it hit me again. I slept from then until teatime, being intermittently woken by some ridiculous panic about non-urgent jobs having to be rescheduled. I slept on the sofa that night to prevent non-infection, and woke on Friday feeling a lot better. It's Saturday now, and although still testing positive, I'm pretty much sorted, and should be good to go on Monday as usual.
It was only a two day break, and it's caused so much upheaval/follow-on pressure, that it makes me wonder how things would unfold if I had a serious illness. My annual one-week-off in the summer is always received like a cup of cold sick, and leaves me with so much guilt and frustration, that it makes me consider ditching all time-off in future years, when I'm supposed to be perhaps winding down a bit dare I say?
Anyhow, back to work.
