Don't Get Sick - With Anything.

Donis here.  I intended to do a post on writing about race in a historical novel, but the other current world-wide plague made me change my plans. My husband Don was sick for much of the past week. This is is not a good time to be ill, especially since we weren't sure what the problem was. On Saturday he had a bad headache all day. By Sunday it had developed into a blinding headache, nausea, dizziness. On Monday he wasn't able to get out of bed at all. But he had no fever, no coughing, no problem breathing. The symptoms of the Covid seem to present differently in different people, and the infection rate in Arizona keeps going up. We've been very careful about leaving the house, but we have donned our masks and gone to the store on occasion. Was it Covid-19 or something else?

This reminded me of the kidney failure incident of 2009. On that occasion he got worse and worse, couldn't get out of bed for several days. We thought it was the flu – until he began to hallucinate and I bundled him up and rushed him to the emergency room, and thus began an ordeal I don't care to think back on.

Many of you Dear Readers know of Don's history, since I haven't been secretive about it at all. He's been doing very well for quite a while now, but over the past decade, he has endured just about every health problem you can think of – eye bleeds, heart failure, kidney failure, Crohn's disease, colon cancer, broken arm, post-op infection (fifteen surgeries in twelve years). He's also of an age. He is in the number one category for a bad Covid outcome.

I tried to call the doctor's office but couldn't get through. What to do now? Shall we go to Urgent Care? Would he infect people? Would people infect him? I don't want to go to the hospital emergency room, not right now, not if we can help it. I don't know if it's an emergency. What if they admit him? I wouldn't be able to go in with him. I don't want to be separated from him when he's sick. I asked him what he wanted to do and he squinted up at me and said that if he didn't feel better in the morning we'd go to an Urgent Care. I still couldn't get through to the doctor. I couldn't decide whether I should keep calling and pushing, which left me annoyed and upset. To be cautious, I went to bed in another room and tossed and turned Monday night, checked on him every few hours. It amazed me how quickly I fell back into my emergency caretaker mode.

Tuesday morning he was better. The nausea abated and the headache just a dull throb. By the end of the day he was much better and was able to eat. Today (Wednesday), he's tired but much back to normal.

Once upon a time he was plagued with knockout headaches like this, but he hadn't had one for more than twenty years. What a bitch of time for his migraines to return. I can only hope that this was a one off.

So for God's sake, my friends, take care of yourselves, because this is no time for anybody to get sick, Covid or not.

By the way, the doctor's office has not yet called back.