The Killer Is Inside the House

 Day 20. I'm still sick. Not getting better. Not getting worse. There's no help for me apparently anywhere in the world of medicine. 

Oxygen is good, but I can't breathe. I don't need antibiotics based on my beyond extensive experience with respiratory infections. I've been checked for heart attack and blood clots. All good.

But I can't breathe or function anyway. I feel very swollen. Like there's inflammation in the smaller airways, but it's not enough to tip me over into anything medicine will care about.  I'm just biding my time until I get worse or qualify as long haul and can maybe go to a long covid clinic. 

Kiddo is still sick but not nearly as affected. I'm sure whatever is causing the fever of unspecified origin isn't helping.

The key to surviving a pandemic is to avoid infection until there's a cure. We are not quite there. The vaccines do not work as well as society (or I for that matter) needs them to and do not prevent the virus from continuing to mutate. The antivirals are not widely available; doctors are leery, they can't be used for many patients. The monoclonal antibody infusions that might help are nowhere to be found.

It would have been better for us to get sick during the Delta wave or the first Omicron wave. We would've been able to access infusions. Resources have disappeared since then.

So the other key to surviving a pandemic is to avoid infection when there's not much help for you, whether that be overwhelmed hospitals or lack of easy access to effective treatments. I got fooled by the vaccines. I thought we were good when in reality the vaccines are not as good as the hype.

I don't know what's going to happen to either me or the kiddo. I have some hope for the kiddo. I have to or else I wouldn't be able to function. For myself...I'm not sure I survive this pandemic. Not as things stand now.

I live in a multigenerational household. Two other adults in addition to myself. They are both tired. Both unwilling to take the necessary precautions. They're done. They're no longer able to care beyond how much they are tired of this pandemic. 

Meaning it's only a matter of time before I have to fight round two. I don't know how many times I can get Covid and beat it. It would appear I'm going to find out.

Ironically, the weakest links in my household appear to be the ones who get the mildest cases. Sigh.

You would be correct in thinking I am less than thrilled about this. It turns out I am unusually constant, atypically vigilant. I could mask and isolate until the end of time, but my wagon is hitched to people who are psychologically unable to do that.

Yet another key to surviving a pandemic is endurance. You're only as safe as your household's tolerance for doing what it takes to be safe. Once one person cracks, you all get infected and the chips fall where they may.

Sooo... If medicine gets better antivirals and I can actually access them and/or if new vaccines with better efficacy come out...maybe then I'm good. But until then, all I have are deadly lottery tickets.

Sorry if that's grim. It just feels realistic to me at this point. Covid is eating me alive right now. There's no way I can win this war.