Tag: Me Myself I

I have the ‘Rona:  “Breakthrough”, or whatever they’ve labeled Covid-19 v8.65.

It is, to put it politely, a motherfucker:  far worse than the variant I had last December.

As I told you I thought I’d turned the corner and started having what doctors euphemistically call “productive” coughs:  great mouthfuls of phlegm dredged out of my lungs.

False alarm.  So I went off to our family GP, Doctor Shit-For-Brains (not his real name), who tested me for strep (what I thought I had) and when that came back negative, sent the Holy Q-Tip off for a complex ‘Rona test, but said, “If I was sitting at the casino table and had to put money on ‘Rona vs. some other thing, it would all go on ‘Rona.”

So I’ve started taking the new wunderkind stuff, Paxlovid, but all it handles is the virus itself.  The razor blades in the throat when I swallow, the coughing which brings up pieces of liver never mind lung, etc. — all these have to be addressed by the Usual Suspects.

I have no voice.  When (if) I survive this shit, remind me to tell you the story of getting my Paxlovid at Shit-For-Brains II (a.k.a our various local drug stores), which is a tale to make strong men weep.

Oh, and did I tell you that one charming side-effect of Paxlovid is that your mouth tastes as though you’ve been sucking on dimes and pennies for the past month?

Worse yet, I have absolutely no energy or desire to do anything.

I will post a brief thing each morning just to reassure you that I’m still alive, but that’s about it.

Wish me luck.