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| Gaza. COVID art. October 2020. Source: REUTERS/Mohammed Salem |
"So sorry to have to send this text to you. This morning I tested positive for COVID. ..... "
This from Diana, who came to El Paso with her husband, Pete, to volunteer at a migrant receiving shelter for a couple of weeks. We'd spent such a good time together on Sunday and Monday, with so much laughter.
Not a text I wanted to receive. Especially since I've been visiting daily with Drake's dad, Beck, who is physically vulnerable on at least three levels.
It doesn't matter that:
- I'm pretty careful with my mask protocols; or
- I have abstained from trips to zydeco dancing venues, feeling as holy (and deprived) as a virgin saving herself for marriage; or
- I was pretty confident about my friends' practices, and that of the place where my friends volunteered in El Paso for the previous two weeks; or
- I've had one, two, and three vaccination doses in 2021, plus the first bivalent booster in October 2022; or
- Had one bout with COVID in early 2022; or
- I successfully avoided contracting COVID when my Jefferson City hostess came down with it.
And it sure doesn't matter that I had this on my list of things to do: Get the second bivalent dose.
I last saw my friends on Monday afternoon. Diana's test was positive on Wednesday morning. I waited until Thursday afternoon to take my own rapid test to allow time for a sufficient quantity of viruses to accrue. The little fuckers.
My Thursday afternoon test result: Negative.
My Friday afternoon test result: Negative.
And finally, my Saturday morning test result: Negative! Hallelujah!
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| My third and final negative test result. January 2023. Credit: Mzuriana. |
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