I found out that I had Covid yesterday. Well, feck! Feckity, feck, feck, feck, feck, feck. It had gone one mostly unsuspected as:
1) I had taken two home-Covid tests that turned out negative.
2) I had gone to urgent care a week before where the doctor did not suspect Covid nor even gave me a test for it.
3) A sign of having Covid is running a temperature. I still am not running a temperature.
4) Pinkeye was not linked to Covid.
5) I ran into a new variant of Covid that had dispensed with the temperature foolerie and with the Great Big Brotherhood of Man, had welcomed Pink Eye into its viral world and made it at hame.
Why had this happened to me?
Just lucky, I guess.
I have spent most of the last two days in bed, drifting between oblivion and coughing up phlegm.
There is a rare, comparatively lengthy moment where I don’t feel like Dresden. So I am writing this blog.
In my semi-lucid states, I have had several moments to birth semi-lucid thoughts about viruses. Combine that with previous snippets about Paul’s Flying Squirrel Squadron, I took tentative steps toward a new novel, The Virus, The Squirrel, and Me.
I have to go now. Writing all this has utterly exhausted me.
My semi-lucid state beckons me.
– Paul De Lancey