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Thursday, November 16th, 2023
Captain's Log
Today marks my third day stuck on the couch, courtesy of the spicy cough, a.k.a. coronavirus. I've been shuffling between the sofa and the bedroom, aimlessly scrolling through cheesy Christmas movies, desperately trying to find some entertainment in this pandemic purgatory.
I did manage a daring 10-minute mission outside to pot some greenery—the dog needed his outdoor fix, and I needed to avoid sofa-induced bedsores. However, any ambitious plans for more Christmas decorating will have to wait until I can climb stairs without sounding like an out-of-breath pirate with a penchant for wheezing.
Symptoms began Tuesday morning when, despite feeling as lively as a sloth on a caffeine detox, I embarked on a less-than-treacherous hike with Number 2. Alas, the downhill descent left me more winded than a marathoner with a sudden allergy to oxygen. I should have known my fate then, but I was in full denial until Wednesday morning when I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.
The Duchess had it last week, and I was overconfident that I wouldn't catch it. Oh, the arrogance of assuming immunity in the face of a viral foe. It seems fate had other plans for me, and now I find myself marooned on the couch, surrounded by tissues and the ghostly echoes of my once-vibrant health.
Note to self: Never be misled by the illusion of a germ-free sanctuary during the tumultuous teenage years; high schools are more akin to thriving Petri dishes than havens of calm.; high schools are likely more infectious than daycare centers.
As fate would have it, I've embraced my destiny as the most melodramatic sick person, a true connoisseur of the man cold. I oscillate between moping, moaning, whining, and demanding both constant pampering and solitude—an absurd spectacle that, unfortunately, shows no signs of improvement.
The CDC lists the usual COVID-19 suspects: fever, cough, shortness of breath, fatigue, muscle aches, and headaches. However, let me provide an updated edition for the courageous souls facing COVID-19 in 2023:
1. **Cough**: Prepare for a cough so intense it feels like a lung evacuation rehearsal.
2. **Fever and Chills**: The fever plays peek-a-boo, but the chills stay, providing teenage offspring an excuse to crank up the thermostat in their eternal ice kingdom.
3. **Shortness of Breath**: Imagine the respiratory struggle of a daily cigarette smoker who's never set foot in a gym. Getting off the sofa becomes a quest to conquer Everest.
4. **Fatigue**: Scratch "fatigue"; insert "sheer, mind-numbing exhaustion." Forget sleep, as the cough serves as your unwelcome alarm clock.
5. **Muscle and Body Aches**: Picture sharp, stabbing pains in all joints, prompting more than a few panicked Google searches for signs of early-onset arthritis.
6. **Headaches**: It's not a headache; it's your progeny’s drum lesson inside your cranium—rhythmic precision not included.
As I navigate this comedic tragedy, spare Number 2 your thoughts and prayers as he's been banished to the less-than-comfortable spare room for peaceful sleep.