No “Riverdance,” no golf, no restaurant dining. has had 1 million COVID deaths (or we will soon cross that gruesome threshold, depending on your source). Regardless of my rational mind, a positive diagnosis sent a wave of abject fear racing through the brain. Back then, a positive COVID test could’ve meant a hospital stay or even a death sentence. First thought: “Godammit!” (Think Cartman’s voice in “ South Park.”) Second thought: Experts say, most everyone’s going to get this, and it's better that I’m having my turn in the isolation tank now than it would have been in, say, the spring of 2020. But I do have a little help from my new pharmaceutical friend, Paxlovid, the oral antiviral medication. The only option, clearly, is to wait it out. A 24/7 Blue Cross Blue Shield nurse told her that if your partner has COVID, it’s a pretty safe to assume you do, too, and act accordingly). (My wife tested negative initially, then positive a couple of days after me, on May 9. Then I saw the two parallel pink/purple lines. I swabbed my nose, dipped it in that special six-drip sauce and waited the requisite 15 minutes. My wife and I had picked up several of the at-home COVID-19 tests some time ago, just in case. An intense sore throat came a-calling Friday night. I played golf on May 6 and may have had what seemed like seasonal allergies, but nothing out of the ordinary.
I came home that night hoarse and cold, but shook it off and felt OK the next day. There are 20,000-plus people in the stands, watching the Red Sox cough up runs, but it was open air and that’s supposed to be safe-ish, right? Fenway doesn’t require a vaccination card or masks either - wearing one is a thing of the past now, I guess, for me and pretty much everybody else. I also went to see the Red Sox lose again on May 4, a chilly night. Neither one required proof of vaccination or a mask - and I didn’t wear one. I don’t know for sure where I got it, but I did go to two concerts in Boston in late April. And also try to live life as much as possible like it was before March 2020. (They’ve done their own research, of course.) For most of us, there’s the idea of self-protection, linked to the imperative to do the right thing for others. Part of the frustration of life during COVID is the surfeit of contradictory messages from those who know and the loud flat-out ignorant boasts from the anti-vaxxers who don’t. I don’t feel great, but I know it could be so much worse. Not gonna harsh on your good time, but, hey, watch out when you get up!” As many have said, why have we been masked entering and exiting restaurants but unmasked while eating? It’s not as if the virus was polite enough to say: “Hey, you’re noshing. It’s not always easy and it doesn’t always make sense. My policy throughout the pandemic has been to try to follow the ever-evolving CDC guidelines, as fine-tuned by the city or town I was in. I knew the vaccines wouldn’t necessarily prevent me from getting the damn thing, but would at least likely keep me out of the hospital and away from death’s door. Shot 1, then shot 2 when eligible (just about a month ago). (Moderna was my roll-of-the-dice jab.) When it came time for the boosters, same thing. I had my first round of vaccination shots as soon as I was eligible.
I practiced social distancing, as best I could. I’ve been following the science on this thing from the beginning. Always look on the bright side of life, as the old Eric Idle song goes in “Monty Python’s Life of Brian.” I’m practically giddy thinking about all those antibodies I’m building up. I have now joined a majority of Americans, nearly 60%, who’ve been knowingly infected. Cases are surging in the Northeast and on May 9, ABC News reported Boston is one of America’s “hotspots.” We may not be in for a “wave,” but a “ swell.” Could that swell be part of a new surge? I’m writing this from the place so many of us have gotten to know so well since March 2020: Home quarantine.Īs we all know, the latest variant of COVID-19 is still running wild.
#Cartman cover photo police code#
Bmw code 120408.A man swabs his nose at a rapid Covid-19 testing site in the international terminal at Los Angeles International Airport on December 3, 2021.