Non-Fiction Friday on Sunday

No fiction this past weekend. I got Covid.

Actually, I think I got it last weekend. Starting on Sunday I had a tickle in my throat. Monday the tickle was gone, but I was sneezing a lot. I figured I had a cold. Colds move through my system more quickly here in the tropics than they used to up north.

By Wednesday I had a low-grade fever. On Thursday I told Brett that if the fever was still active the next morning, I should go get a Covid test. Friday morning we went to the clinic.

To be honest, I've been staying home and avoiding my husband since I started feeling bad, so it was less about diagnosing myself and more about the fact that on Sundays (today) I'm supposed to be at our school to help with homework. 

Not with Covid!

I tested positive, so Homework Help was off. Since I've been presenting symptoms for a week already, I figured a follow up test on Wednesday should be fine and I'll be back in action by the weekend. I'm sleeping on a cot in the living room, and Brett has been fine.

Until today. This morning he told me he has a sore throat. We can guess what that means!

Personally, I blame this on being social. On Thanksgiving we were down in the historic district of our town, hanging out with a new friend - a tourist who was only here a few days. That night, when we parted ways, I gave her a hug. We'd had fun! I felt like I had a new friend! Brett is not a hugger. He did not hug her. Days later I presented symptoms of what turned out to be Covid. 

This interaction is the only break in my usual social activity. I've messaged her to check on her health, but heard nothing in return.

And THAT, my friends, is as good a reason as any for me to remain a confirmed introvert!