It has been one week since I suspected I was sick with COVID, a relevant distinction given that “onset of symptoms” dictates my isolation period. That means I have three more days. I have questions, though. Questions I will ask of my caseworker at the Boulder Heath Department, a very nice lady.
How am I feeling? Tired. Yesterday I went to the big house and had lunch with Micah. He’s tired of being in his room, tired of playing video games, tired of not being able to hug anyone … although I still hug him. Poor kid.
I am afraid for him, afraid that he will be stigmatized and that his normal group of friends will be hesitant about being around him. MPT assured me that the families in our “pod” are cool and get it that it’s COVID and nobody’s fault. I sincerely hope so.
I’ve fielded a few ungenerous comments and to that I’d like to point out that no one – not one person, zero, zippo, zilch – has come down with COVID that has traced back to me or Micah, and there has been a ton of testing. Like, every single person who has been near us in the last two weeks has been tested. That doesn’t mean that it might not happen, but I’ve been cautious and upfront about my diagnosis in order to protect others. It has not been fun.
Also not fun is that since my phone is listening to me, it felt like this was the best ad to serve up to me on IG …
What the everlasting fuck?
Boulder just opened a walk-up clinic on The Hill, Lonny and Casey are going today to get re-tested. Casey is feeling sick so it makes sense to get both of them retested. False negatives are dangerous.
Speaking of, the BF got a negative result back. It makes no sense. There are three possibilities:
- It could be a false negative, which happens.
- He was infected prior to me and has had a chance for the viral load to clear. He was tested five days after I was so if he was carrying it before I was, he may have recovered, so an antibody test would be the next thing to do.
- He is a freak of nature who is immune to COVID.
All we can really do is keep doing what we are doing. But I simply cannot fathom how he could be actually negative. There has been way too much kissing, snuggling, sleeping next to each other, sharing food and drinks, etc., for him to somehow have not gotten it.
In other news, I smelled fish sauce today! And oranges! The fish sauce smelled horrible (because it actually smells horrible) and the oranges smelled great. My sense of taste is still poor; tea tastes like hot water, coffee takes like the sugar I put in it. Ice water is the best and I couldn’t even with the canned Paloma. Eating is mostly about association and texture.
Right now hummus and crackers seem almost normal because they both have distinct textures; it’s a relief to enjoy something. I kind of just eat until I’m full, which is way sooner than when I can taste something. Maybe my friend Cat is right and it’s the best diet ever.
What I can’t seem to stomach is boiled eggs and salad, my usual lunch staples. Oh well.
Ok, onto other things.
So the BF doesn’t get mail to his door, it goes to one of those big boxes at the front of the neighborhood. He hadn’t checked it in a while and it was full of anti-Biden ads.
I think this is hilarious because it makes me want to vote for Biden even more.
More social services? More leftist policies? Bernie is a pal of yours? Hell yeah!
He found this little hippo in a box he brought up from his mother’s basement.
This is meaningful to me because he was assigned the turtle as a child as his animal, so he’s got turtles everywhere. Casey’s first stuffy was Bubu the hippo, Micah’s was DeeDa the bear. As a result they love hippos and bears, respectively. So I was surprised to see a hippo amongst BF’s childhood artifacts.
The the kneeling chairs we both have, or the fact we both read that book by Zafón, it’s those little points of intersection that feel portentous in a relationship.
Of course it is the bigger things – like how we relate to conflict, how we keep our homes, how we show each other love and support – that matter. But it always feels nice to have the little things in common, too.
I’ve started seeing a therapist to help me deal with my anxiety and various other issues that have been plaguing me for years. I’m always surprised at how much anxiety I actually have. I’m good at powering through discomfort, I’ve done it for years, but here it is.
I dated two men before BF. The first one was super into power exchange dynamics and loved to keep me off center by 1) changing plans at last minute, 2) denying me any routine or structure, 3) disappearing, and 4) making me feel like I was constantly out of control. It sucked. I broke up with him after a couple months of his bullshit. Whatever he wanted from me he could have gotten by just being kind.
Thank God he didn’t!
The second one had a very unpredictable job which meant no structure, plans always changed, he never knew for sure when he was going to be home and when he would have to leave. He wasn’t intentionally cruel like the first one was, but I can see now how structurally they were both my worst nightmares.
Anxiety and past trauma is the work of the person experiencing them. It’s not for someone else to fix or tiptoe around. However, it sure does help to be with someone who is more constitutionally suited for me. It isn’t a struggle to get BF to make a plan and stick to it, he is reassuring by nature, he enjoys routine and his routines leave room for spontaneity, but he always talks to me about it. He gets my consent and seeks my opinion. He has been such a doll during all of this.
I’ll leave you with this photo from my niece. She found this magnificent rhinoceros beetle.
It reminds me of when my boys were little and obsessed with beetles. They researched getting a rhinoceros beetle larva and raising it themselves. Fun fact, they take nine months to pupate in the dirt. I sent the picture to the boys instead.