Like mentioned, we have now completed moving to a new place but it has been a major struggle. Some days, my boys would help me; other days, I have the movers and cleaners to help me with the major stuff. But they still need to tell them what goes where, things to keep or do away with.
Usually, I am the kind of power-up and power-through kind of person, which one of the movers and my boys have highlighted to them, but I could not accept the fact that moving around piles of items, boxes, and equipment could tear me down.
Nope. You can't take me down with something like this.
Sometimes I have my boys to help me but most of the time, it is just me the hired help. They have classes to attend in their respective Universities and I just have to do it alone. I injured myself...how? I don't know. I threw my back out, started developing flu and cough, but still I tried to expedite everything because people were hounding on me to get things done.
I am not the kind to complain easily but, this time, I can hear my body screaming at me for some reason.
And then the fever came. The coughing got worse. And my nose turned into a leaking tap of mucus. But still, I needed to get it all done. By the final day of doing this whole shit, I get home, shower, and pass out.
I woke up on that day with chills running through my body. The air-conditioning wasn't on. I was wrapped up like California Roll in my blanket and yet, I felt cold inside and hot outside. But still, I have to get this done. Nobody else is here to handle this. It never occurred to me, not a single time, that it could be something else.
I was coughing up blood, every single muscle in my body was aching, I was running a temperature which I staved off with Paracetamol, But I, thankfully, feel a little better (other than my throat) after every time I take the Paracetamol.
So, yesterday, after doing the last run and feeling like a dark, rain-filled cloud was hanging over my head, following me everywhere, I started feeling the chills again. The thermometer told me my temperature was 37.5 degrees Celsius.
Bah, humbug, My brain chugged along at a slower pace than usual and this is the reason why. Panadol, Panadol, Panadol....I took them without exceeding dosage, mind you, but thankfully, it took my fever away for a while.
I guess I got suspicious. Why is it that I am taking all the right medications and resting lots and the fever keeps coming back? That was when I knew I had to get antibiotics from a doctor. Thankfully, there is a clinic right outside the condo guardhouse. So, I walked there and got the doc to check me out.
She examined my inflamed throat from 6 feet away and confirmed that my throat is infected. But she said I needed antibiotics to fight this off. She seriously warned me that without these over-the-counter medication and monitoring, if it doesn't get better, I would have to have an RTK or PCR test done.
I've been a little disorientated but I can still get things done. I am SURE of it.
What I started questioning about myself is this - "How far are you willing to go before you ask for help?" When I was at the clinic, the doctor took me in with a slightly more intimidating doctors I have ever seen. She told me, "Finish these antibiotics within five days, and if the fever keeps coming back, were doing an in-depth COVID tests - RTK OR PCR". I know what that means because I worked with a nurses, doctors, and labs during the pandemic.
After taking paracetamol in the middle of the night when I felt myself burning up, I thought to myself, felt like a new person the next morning. It did not last long.
But by the time I reached home, the bone-chills were back. In a non-airconditioned room, I was still wrapped up in my thick comforter, shivering.
There's also the paper-fucking-work on both sides; the one I am moving out of and into. It's insane. The amount of money I spent on this move (which is I hope to be the last one for the next ten years or more)
As it turns out, this afternoon, while we were trying to decide whether to send my son to college or not, they told me they had sore throats too. I threw every plan I had for the day out the window, disguised my coughing fits while wearing a mask, walked into a pharmacy and bought some COVID test kits. I tried to buy them online using TNG-Watson app - it didn't work. TNG...Watson...you suck.
So, I immediately ordered the both of them to complete the test. Mine was clearly double lines, as expected, because I've already displayed so many signs from coughing, flu, fever, to body aches. Even the doctor was looking at me like I had rabbis.
Son 1 came up with one faint line - positive anyway. Son 2 had one line - negative. So, what do we do now? I know for sure, one fine day, unless his immune system is superb, he's gonna join the two of us in the COVID gang. LOL.
This is the second time we're testing positive and honestly speaking, it doesn't feel as scary as it did before. We know all the symptoms far too well and we've been through the whole thing together. So, we're more prepared and know what to do. It just sucks to feel chilly but feverish, sluggish and determined to beat this COVID shit that's been haunting us for like years on end.
At one point when I hit a low point the first time round, lying in bed, I lividly thought to myself, "What if alcohol can kill COVID! Bbbbboooyyyyyssss....". Caveat: I was livid, and in pain.
But I feel sorry, like I said in my Facebook post, that I could have potentially exposed the people who were helping me move house and cleaning up the place and those people who entered and exited the lifts, the nice people at the restaurant downstairs...I hope they didn't catch it from me or the boys.
I didn't know (because wishful thinking is the kind of stupidity I possess and embrace). Sure, we're less scared about it than we were before but it is contagious and very, very inconvenient. A lot of people did not die with COVID but a lot did. I don't want to be the one to be the direct cause of a single casualty, you know what I mean? Except for today when I went into the pharmacist. I clearly warned him when I bought the test kits that I am almost 90pc sure I am positive and that he should sanitize the place when I leave.
He smiled but looked a little unsettled. I hope he doesn't hate me for doing it despite knowing that I am pretty sure I was positive. The delivery option was out of the question and it's what I had to do....ask for help? WHOOOO? No one else can drive in this house and based on our interactions with each other, they were close to being positive, anyway.
XOXO,
Love always,
Marsha
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