Carnes: Holidays could’ve been worse
After almost two years of forced lockdowns, voluntary mandates, vaccines and masks, I finally get it.
Or perhaps I should say, “I got it.”
Not officially, mind you, as getting a test right now is more difficult than getting elected GOP members to attend a Capitol Police memorial.
But my wife was able to procure one just before New Year’s Eve, and when it came back positive after three days, we just assumed I was as well and have thus acted accordingly since then.
Her test was the PCR type, not the highly questionable at-home and in my opinion pointless kind that seems to be all the rage, although their accuracy is constantly debated.
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“Up to 85% correct!” is not much of a sales pitch.
She had the sore throat, body aches and so on, while I had none of those but every joint in my body suddenly rusted overnight, and like the Tin Man I could barely move and couldn’t even get out of bed, making my normal morning routine a tad challenging, if you know what I mean.
With no family history of arthritis, I did what any modern American male with unusual symptoms would do: Google it.
My surefire method of self-diagnosis concluded that, well, I was an idiot and needed to go see a real doctor instead of doing the anti-vaccine crowd technique of using social media to rationalize whatever theory I wanted to find based upon the current narrative I wished to follow.
With local clinics being slammed, it took four days just to receive a callback for an appointment, and now another week before I can see my doctor.
I think I’ll live.
Anyway, our immediate concern was we had the entire family here for three quick days during the holidays, with most leaving the day after Christmas.
Our oldest and his family had to be driven to Denver International Airport a day late after their flight out of Eagle was canceled. Because of heavy snowfall and the constant closings of Vail Pass, I had to take the southern route via Buena Vista just to make it home.
Luckily, they are all currently fine.
Of most concern was my 92-year-old mother-in-law, who ended up staying an entire week later than planned due to the never-ending flight cancellations out of Eagle. It took four separate trips to the airport before she was finally able to make it home to Florida.
Also luckily, she has had her own home here since the ’80s and wasn’t constantly subjected to potential infection from family, and she is doing fine as well.
The middle son in Denver has no symptoms, and the youngest, up in Montana, tested positive and is working his IT job from home while beginning his master’s classes online.
My bride and I have been self-quarantining and sleeping in separate bedrooms for the first time in 25 years (I swear I did nothing wrong!) and spent four days last week watching the boob tube. Not porn, of course, but after catching the 20th reunion special for Harry Potter, we naturally had to watch the first movie again, which led to the second one, then the third, etc.
Suffice it to say we are now once again very well versed in all things “Potter” — and thanks to the “Let’s Go Darwin” crowd, are resigned to having to deal with this crap for yet another year.
By slowly thinning their own herd though, perhaps we’ll be done by 2023.
Richard Carnes of Avon writes weekly. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.