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Omicron Blues, or Fuck the Antivaxxers

Omicron Blues, or Fuck the Antivaxxers

Did I just say “fuck the antivaxxers?” You betcha. Because Omicron isn’t just a letter of the Greek alphabet. It’s also what I have.

The Rational Heathen Gets a Greek Letter

Despite all my vaccinations/boosters, I knew it was just a matter of time before COVID-19 showed up on my doorstep. My spouse deals with the public, which means no matter how much masking and handwashing, he was bound to get this contagion. Lucky for us (I guess), it is Omicron and not Delta.

Omicron Most Likely

I presume it’s Omicron because it’s “mild,” although I might argue that “mild” is relative to “in the hospital and intubated.” My spouse could barely get in to see our doctor–forget the county testing and other sites. They’re backed up. The doctor didn’t have enough appointments to see me too, so when the test came back positive, the doctor said I had it as well and treat it the same. Our instructions were explicit: 10 day quaratine and don’t go to the hospital unless you’re damn near dying.

In other words, suffer at home.

I’m Beginning to Hate Greek Letters

In all fairness, I guessed my spouse had it even before he took the test. I also knew that I was exposed to it via him, so I was screwed. It proved to be Omicron in symptoms, which means I’ve had next to no energy to do much, let alone write.

I have no fever. I have had nasal congestion, ear congestion, attempts at congestion in my lungs, pink phlegm, exhaustion, coughing, joint and muscle aches, night sweats, chills, and little appetite. Right now, it feels like a really bad cold that will not go away. I eat not because I’m hungry, but because I know I’ll get sicker if I don’t. Half the time I can’t tell if the room is cold or hot. My internal sense of temperature is fucked up.

Dried Herbs, or Quit Fucking Around

As a semi-knowledgable herbalist, you’d think I’d grab whatever dried shit I concocted and douse myself with it. Nope. Nope. Nope. I’ve ignored the ancestors’ meds and went straight to Tylenol, Musinex, and whatever else makes sense. My brain fog is real, which means I can’t even ponder what might make me feel better in the herbal realm. Instead, I’ve relied on 21st Century medicine, because that’s how I roll.

I’ve written a lot about how we modern folks wouldn’t be able to handle the conditions of a millenium ago. Our ancestors were damn lucky to live to 50, if that. Seeing as I am past that age, (aka “older than dirt”), I’m pretty much guessing I’d be plant food if I had to live at that time.

Right Now, Not Feeling Particularly Charitable

Right now, I’m pretty angry at the morons who are antivaxxers. They are serving as cesspools in the world’s largest petri dish and you can pretty much bet that these variants use them to multiply and mutate. The fact we’re seeing COVID-19 change so rapidly is because of antivaxxers’ unwillingness to step up and get a vaccination. Sure, the disease mutates in animals and even in those who have breakthrough infections, but this wouldn’t spread so rapidly had there been fewer unvaccinated people.

So, I blame them for my misery. And, if you want the truth, I know I’m a whiner because I’m at least not dead yet. Not like the more than three quarters of a million Americans. Or however many have been hospitalized (or are hospitalized). And yeah, I have the mild form with two shots and the booster which has made me whine. Gods know, I don’t fucking want the full-on crap.

Just an Update

So, this post is more or less to tell you all that I’m sick, but not dead yet. My health is improving, but it’s still slow. Probably will have this bullshit longer than two weeks at this rate. (I’m on day 9, I think.) I will come up with better posts when I am feeling better.

Thanks for hanging in there with me. Stay safe, get vaccinated, and wear your mask.