Shared sicky-ness
Nostalgia for times ex-boyfriend and I fell ill at same time.
Coughed four or five times, mildly, as I was falling asleep last night. Then woke early and was wide awake. The banging of the radiator and warming room when it wasn’t that cool to begin with might have had something to do with it. I eventually got up and read. It was probably the most of Nicholas Nickleby that I’ve read at a single sitting! When I heard the cardinal start its siren call and knew sunrise wasn’t far off I got back in bed and maybe nodded off a bit. I am no way fatigued, there’s no muscle group that feels “extra sore” after having recently worked it out, and by bones and joints aren’t popping and cracking every time I move. It might be allergies, post-nasal drip, mild acid reflux in my throat, or just that same “I have to clear my throat all the time” thing I had had for like 20 months until I started using the NeilMed bottle regularly twice a day. Or it could be the beginnings of COVID-19. My journals when I was with G__ Z____, in 2011 and 2012, which I had read several times as preparation for writing the novel, contain a couple of instances, over, say, a week or two weeks, in which one, or the both of us, or first one then the other, gets mildly sicky. “G__ said he felt sicky yesterday” “Now I’m feeling sicky” “I asked him to buy me ginger ale for my stomach. He got me diet ginger beer. I suppose that’s good enough”—and that sort of thing. Sometimes I consider G__ as my third and most recent boyfriend, because the others (M____ before him; R___ and N___ after him) didn’t last long enough to really have any kind of evolution. Another way to look at it is with A___, A______, and G__, I was with each of them long enough to share one or two birthdays together, one or two Christmases and New Years together, one or more vacations together, a visit or two to each other’s family—and one or two bouts of shared “sickie-ness.”
I take measures to protect my roommate from my hypochondria.
I sent a text to J_____ describing my mild symptoms, said I’d wipe all surfaces in bathroom and kitchen down with Lysol after use, would wear a mask outside my bedroom, and would leave the windows open (it’s actually a gorgeous day outside). The washable cloth masks John ordered for me arrived a few days ago. I put on one this morning, along with the knit winter cap to keep my head warm. My overly small ears barely sustain the tension from the loop straps on either side of the mask. They each curl half forward. Also with my mustache completely blacked out, along with the rest of my face—and with those pop-out monkey ears, and hair color invisible under the winter cap—I’d say I look like Ellen DeGeneres. I had breakfast in my bedroom—like the married women on Downton Abbey. And there was a beautiful light coming in the windows in the front of the house, where my bedroom is, facing east. J_____ didn’t respond to my text in which I described my conditions and how I would mitigate any contagiousness. Either he’s not particularly worried (more likely) or he’s freaking. The sign will be whether L_____’s over again tonight and they cook another elaborate meal at nine PM. Last night’s had a ton of roast garlic. I love garlic, and I love the smell of garlic. This morning I thought, “Well, if I smelled all that garlic last night I didn’t lose my sense of smell”—a common COVID-19 symptom. This morning while I was still in bed I sniffed my shirt. It smelled like me. OK, so I can smell myself. I still have a sense of smell. And I had a huge appetite this morning, not like the last time I got mildly sick, in late February, which I theorize to have possibly been when I actually did get COVID-19. Will this become a thing where by, say, four PM tomorrow I’m still walking around the house with my mask, skipping around, eating my snacks, and I finally say, “Hey J_____, I think I’m going to take this thing off now. My ears just can’t sustain the pressure of these straps on either side.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t worried,” he’ll say as he continues to play race car video games. Vrooom vrooom!