If you’ve never seen one of these before, no this is not a pregnancy test. God forbid, no. Mythical wife and I used those fancy tests that could actually run Doom on them. Two kids was the plan and mission accomplished.
No, this is a rapid COVID-19 test, and the two lines that are shown indicate a positive, yes you have coronavirus within your system.
For all the caution, masking, distancing, isolating and other measures mythical wife and I have done over the last 22 months, it still made it into our home.
To clarify, this is not my test, although considering someone in my household is registering a positive, it’s safe to say that we’re all exposed. I, or anyone else in my house can’t really go get confirmed, because everyone in my area has gone bonkers and any testing sites are all slam packed not to mention it’s New Years fucking Eve.
I’m quite upset over the likely circumstances that brought this unfortunate development to light, but what’s done is done and raging about it will accomplish nothing at all. But the result is still the same, and for the next week, maybe two, my household is going to be wonky, my wife and kids and myself will have to play spatial chess as we try to minimize together time so that those with symptoms avoid those without.
It upsets me that the world went from intelligent avoidance to eventual acceptance that everyone was inevitably going to contract coronavirus at some point, and in the case my home, it wasn’t anyone here that went out of their way to get themselves exposed. We’ve been doing our part to minimize exposure and stay safe, but unfortunately we can’t monitor the world outside our doors and the activities that the people outside our doors are doing.
I’m just upset on varying levels and degrees right now. There’s never any good time for anyone to get sick, but happening right on a holiday makes things a little bit harder and more inconvenient. There is no consolation in me being negative or asymptomatic, when my wife and one of my kids are ill and addled.
My daughter registered a fever of 103F. Ordinarily, that’s a need to go to urgent care, but clinics and facilities all over are so overrun, that they do an assessment to see who’s at the greatest risk of death to determine on whether or not they should go or. Seeing as how my daughter is acting fairly normal in spite of the temperatures, we’ve been recommended to “stick with what you’re doing – at home” instead of going to urgent care—that’s where the fuck we’re at in this state of the world right now.
Life is already fucking difficult enough as it is, but to throw coronavirus on top of it, and I’m just feeling defeated and owned and all sorts of dejected. Things will seemingly never get easier, and all I can really feel like is the endless need to endure and be patient, instead of thrive and enjoying life more than I am.
It’s funny, because as I was finishing out my last post and ending it with how the book on 2021 was closing with that post, it was almost like tempting fate that something should occur with the one day we had left. And much like the title of this post is called, it really does feel like a kick in the balls, right at the buzzer.
Happy fucking new year, everyone.