Having managed for the last three years to avoid catching COVID, that run was only bound to come to an end at some point. Friday last week saw me awaken in the night to perform my usual nocturnal sprinkle, and this was accompanied by some majorly shaking arms and legs. Where on earth had this come from? I had what felt like the beginnings of a cold - the cough and the sore sinuses - but this bonus bout of fever was most unexpected. Back under the duvet, in a foetal position, breathing fast and trying to warm up again. Later that morning I felt as though i had a bug and would probably end up being sick for the first time in 12 years. That thankfully didn't happen. The next night's sleep was again punctuated by unbearable fever when leaving my bed to take that prostate-driven leak.
Sunday saw Hannah come down with the cold as well, and when she falls ill with something, we usually resort to a COVID test to rule out the worst. We took one each this morning. both positive. We have the spiky protein in us. The very thing that killed her 93 year old grandad. Despite me being a fervent mask-wearer for the last three years. Not going into that village shop without my polka dot mask on. Usually the only one who bothers to wear a mask now. Following the rules to keep us both safe, and now we both have it. It's like a heavy bout of a cold with fever thrown in, and it is not pleasant. I only hope we get to live. That's all I ask for now.
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