There's no escaping COVID, Bill Ervolino finds out
DAY ONE: I returned from Maine on July 25, feeling exhausted and sniffly. I had a great time, but the drive pretty much did me in.
“You’re tired,” my friend Tom said. “Go to bed early.”
Tom, who had taken the trip with me, seemed worn out, too. But he was intent on driving back to his house on Long Island.
“I’m beat,” he said, “but I just want to get home.”
DAY TWO: I still felt crummy, but I needed groceries. I wore a mask to the store and at one point had a nasty coughing fit — in the health food aisle.
Frightened healthy people dropped their packages of raisin twig muesli, frozen broccolini puffs and tofu chick pea balls and ran screaming into the parking lot.
Could I really be sick?
I later relayed this information to my neighbor and dog-sitter Diane, when she texted to ask about my trip.
“Do you have any COVID tests?” she asked. “I have an extra one here.”
That night, I took the test out of its package. I found the directions confusing, but I find ALL directions confusing.
I have yet to build anything from IKEA without having five-10 pieces left over.
Eventually, I took the test and saw only one pink horizontal line. (I hadn’t read the part about waiting 15 minutes.)
I took the test into the living room with me and proceeded to call my brother with the good news. As I was dialing, a second horizontal line showed up.
Ugh.
Disappointed, I proceeded to text everyone I know with the news. I also put it on Facebook.
DAY THREE: I woke up feeling weak. And I had no appetite.
That last part frightened me. I once sat down with a fever of 101.5 and ate an entire tray of lasagna.
I was pleased to see some sweet responses to my news: “Get well soon!”
But I was also depressed. I had come back from Maine with a great tan and I was eager to see all my friends so they could tell me how great I looked and admit how pale, pasty and unattractive they felt standing next to me.s
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The Maine thing:You get a lobster! And, you get a lobster! And…hey, what about me?
DAY FOUR: I upped all my vitamins and did my best to stay hydrated. All in all, I didn’t feel too bad. I certainly wasn’t in the same situation that took so many lives two years ago.
But I am a man. A sick man. A sick Italian man. I expected a little more from my friends and loved ones.
Hourly phone calls. Trays of seasonal appetizers and lightly sauced entrees. Old ladies kneeling around my bed praying, wailing and lighting candles.
Instead, I got texts that didn’t exactly warm my heart: “Too bad. Call me when you’re better.”
Yeah, thanks.
Also maddening: Tom and my friend Olga, who I had spent five days with, kept testing negative. What did I do that they didn’t?
It reminded me of glasses. I went 60 years without needing eyeglasses. Then, at 61, I needed glasses.
Meanwhile, I have two friends in their 80s who still don’t need glasses. And even though they see everything clearly, they have no idea that I secretly despise them.
DAY 7 : It took me a good two hours to prepare myself to stick another swab up my nose. But it had to be done. I wanted to see one pink line and get on with my life.
Instead, I saw two.
[Grumble.]
I called my doctor’s office to tell them I was entering Week Two of my illness. Did I need any special prescriptions? Did the doctor want to see me?
“I’m sure he’d like to see you,” the receptionist said. “How is Sept. 14?”
“September? I’m sick now!”
“Do you have chest pains?”
“No, but I have to stick that cotton thing up my nose every few days! It’s heart-wrenching!”
DAY 10: I was still home, still alone and resigned to the fact that other diseases were getting all the press and my disease had been moved to the back burner.
“That’s how it goes,” Tom said on the phone. “But you’re lucky you have it now. You’re vaccinated, boosted … you should make a full recovery.”
“I know,” I said. “I just feel kind of ignored. It’s like COVID doesn’t matter anymore. Plus, after three days with no appetite, I thought I’d lose 50 pounds.”
“How many pounds have you lost?” he asked.
“One.”
DAY 11: A good friend posted on social media that he returned from Disney with his son — and COVID. Our mutual friends, who barely acknowledged my infection, went crazy, offering their love, concern, all kinds of assistance. I’ve never seen such an outpouring.
“We love you, Eric!”
Tom noted, “See? People still care about COVID. And you we were worried.”
DAY 14: I finally tested negative. And I’m trying to be positive.
Be safe, people!
This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Bill Ervolino gets COVID-19
