Covid, day 2

Yes, after exactly four years of isolation from friends, four years of washing tomatoes with dish detergent, four years of double-masking, a year of traveling around Asia, living in Bangkok, doing border runs in Laos and Cambodia, taking boats in Greece, and buses to Albania, this stand has fallen. 

One can understand my bewilderment when I saw that double line being formed, a few hours after a 40 minute run. Both me and my mother, the cause of this unfortunate event, tested positive and I was actually infected in my own house. 

After spending almost 24 hours of complete rage and wrath, multiple fuckyous to my mother for being a complete imbecile (being herself, actually) I was finally in the calm stage where I could enjoy the sequence of my symptoms and surrender my body to the sadistic nature of SARS. 

Two hundred years ago, I would ask the police to hang Spyros and put my mom in dungeons, but now, I understand that this is how it spreads. Naive people who treasure their life of pleasure, women who want to demonstrate their bee-stung lips, uneducated Albanians who lower their mask when they want to speak (my case) and the mentality of oh-brother that has been devouring our generation. People protesting against masks while others are dying from covid is the ultimate paradox of our times. The mask kept me safe for 4 years until my mother’s lack of ability to connect the dots, her trust in whoever comes in this house, and her inertia (because probably the mask was in her bag and she didn’t feel like getting up to put it on) lead to my being in bed and weakening my body. My own aunt asked my mom about our Covid measures whether we want to live when everyone else is dead, and yes you fucking Karen, we want. The world needs less people like you. 

Day zero was apparently Saturday, when after my invigorating run and my high hopes of running the marathon, I noticed that the tickle in my throat continued. My mother was feeling under the weather for a couple of days but I mistakenly attributed it to feeling cold on Thursday morning when she had the ultrasound. I am responsible for trusting people too. I wasn’t aware that Spyros had told her he felt sick, yet she was sitting next to him, on my bed, without her mask and he had lowers his mask to speak because what do you expect of a middle-aged, uneducated Albania butcher? Back to how things escalated, I continued with my schedule and had a couple of classes but I ordered online 2 Covid tests and some fisherman’s friends. I even laughed when I sat down to have the test, while I was calling my last student. My laugh soon turned into astonishment and grief as I saw the double line. My Vietnamese student was trying to read a line in a conversation while I was tracing back the route of the virus to Spyros’ visit 4 days ago. 15 minutes later my mother tested positive too. Day zero and day 1 passes in remorse, wrath, bitterness and lots of FUs to my mom and her irresponsible character. 

Day 2, today, started at 5:02am with 101.66 F, body aches, nausea, and piercing sore throat to the extent that I stopped swallowing my saliva. The pain slightly subsided at about 7:15am and I went back to bed. From 3 miles run I am now able to crawl from my bed to the bathroom and from the bathroom to the armchair in the living room. My energy level has hit the rock bottom that I wasn’t aware all my life. My eyes are blurry, my brain is foggy and my ability to speak has been limited to 15-20 minutes in a rather low note or just whisper something to my mom. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to eat. My only craving is citrus fruit. 

Today my mother apologized for what she did, but you know what? Fuck you! You can take your apology and do what ever pleases you with it. I didn’t want to put my body in this stress. I was doing everything right, I denied my friends for 4 years and now I’m sick, inside the FLH and unable to go out and enjoy my life. 

I won’t trust anyone ever again!