Bronchitis in a time of Covid

The last couple of weeks have been a blur.

I managed to pick up a major case of bronchitis helping Joe move boxes into his new house the last weekend in February. (There's some mold in the place, and carrying boxes upstairs triggered my asthma and irritated my lungs, so when I got home picked up the petri dish (aka, the baby), I picked up his latest respiratory ailment at the same time. That'll be the last time I stress my lungs if there is black mold around; believe it or not, I am capable of being trained. The baby gets a pass for being a little petri dish. That's what babies are.)

I was a week in, my fever had broken, and in the olden days, I'd not have thought twice about taking my scheduled flight to California earlier this week. This time, I thought twice about it, but got on the plane anyways. I took all the proper precautions around sanitizing myself and my surroundings; figured I could safely remain tucked in my window seat for the flight and thus avoid either infecting others or getting infected with something new myself. I had me drugged to the gills, so I could avoid advertising my remaining cough. My theory worked for most of the flight until the dry air took its toll, and...  If looks could kill, the one my seatmate sent me would've done the trick. Probably a good thing where was an empty buffer seat between us. (Yes, I safely coughed into a kleenex, and it was a dry cough at that. I can only imagine the daggers he'd have sent if I'd actually coughed up some gold.)

It's been good for me to finish recovering out here in California. I know myself well enough to know that if I was at home, I'd be outside pushing the limits of my battered bronchial tubes. Here, I haven't dared to poke my nose out the front door, which means I've actually been giving my lungs the rest they need to recover fully from their viral bout.

I've been watching the Covid-19 pandemic unfold with a sense of unease and wonder. From zero to 100. Schools closing, major public gatherings canceled. My granddaughter's school is going to hold remote learning sessions for them next week.  (For 3rd graders?  Really?  Should be interesting...)
No Final Four, no St. Pat's parades. European travel bans. Sick leave for hourly workers. Something new is clearly underfoot.

I understand the reasoning behind the tumult - to slow the speed of transmission of Covid-19 and give our health care system the ghost of a chance to have the capacity to take in those whom the virus lays low. The genie is out of the bottle, this virus is not going to be held locally - our only hope is to flatten the infection bell curve.

I'm out here for another two weeks - it'll be interesting to see if the planes will still be flying when it's time for me to go home. If not, I'll do my best to roll with the flow. I'll get home eventually...

and from now until then, I plan to enjoy each of these precious days with my daughter and granddaughter.