Thanksgiving was great, even if was just the immediate family, and my pumpkin pie was a hit. I've been running around stringing lights, writing Christmas cards, and generally being a productive member of society. Then on Saturday I started getting a low-key dizziness, which was weird, but I figured it will likely pass.

Monday it was similar to contracting the flu. I felt perfectly fine in the morning, but as 5-6pm approached I started feeling that whole body ache and chills which means I'm getting a fever. After that it's literally been like having something in between a flu and a bad cold. Intermittent fever, sore throat, stuffy nose, cough, aches. This morning I tested and sure enough, it's Covid. After 3 years of eluding it, it finally found me.

Of course my family is freaking out, but my O2 sats are at 97-98, I know how to manage the general symptoms, so the difficulty is just making sure I have enough food in the apartment to make it past the quarantine period. Time will tell if I come down with more severe symptoms, but right now I'm at the "It sucks but I can deal" stage.

One of the things that I have learned over the many years and many health problems is that there's a lot the body can endure. Discomfort is fine, and expected in these scenarios. When it's truly serious, there's another feeling that kicks in, that you are truly dying and that no OTC medicine you can take could even come close to addressing the blood loss/septic shock/pleural effusion that will absolutely kill you in a few hours or less.

I guess that's good. It draws a rather clear line between emergency and inconvenience, and if I see my sats drop below 90 I will be driving myself to the ED. But unless it reaches that stage, I'll rest, drink fluids, cough up what I can, and wait until I feel better.