Welp, After 2+ Years of Avoiding It, I Tested Positive for Covid

I feel fine, honestly. Just some sniffles and a scratchy throat. I don't even have a fever. Well, I have a Jacki-fever, I guess. A Jacki-fever is anything over 96.2 degrees, because ya girl runs cold. Always have - at least as an adult. 

My brain ain't taking it great at all though. Big surprise, huh?

As we have previously established the first place my brain goes when something out of the ordinary is the cleanup afterwards. Wheee, past trauma! Of course my brain won't let me just take care of myself and get well - it has to make sure I'm worrying about the aftermath of being sick the entire time I'm sick. 

Part of that is my single mom training. 😂 Being sick when I was responsible for the care of every single person in the house was a non-starter, really. I still had to feed, clothe, bathe and carry D around town to do her things.

Even when I was married, I felt like a single mom. Hell, it was WORSE then, because I was also responsible for another helpless person, who seemed to be unable to cook or clean for himself, even if I was under the weather. 

Whenever I asked for help, it didn't come, so I stopped asking for it and just took on everything myself. That's what I thought I was supposed to do to keep my family happy. 

I realize now what a terrible example that was to set for my own kid and I wish all the time that I had been strong enough to break that cycle. I know I radiated those vibes hard and it is honestly shameful now. 

So all of those feelings came rushing back to me this morning as that hot pink line revealed itself. I was the sick person and (in my head) I am still the one that has to keep this house running. (I don't get sick very often, so I haven't had much practice being sick in a "healthy" brain space.)

Immediately, I placed a panic-y Instacart order for antibacterial wipes and spray - and some soup as an afterthought for some easy eats for myself. However, I almost forget completely about taking care of myself - because my priority was on making sure the house stayed germ-free and, by the associative property, Mickey and his coworkers. 

He is still negative, btw! After two tests, even! Maybe he's got some antibodies I do not from the time he had covid before. Whatever, it is, I'm glad he's still negative and hopefully won't go infect his coworkers because of me. 

Even though I quarantine HARD, y'all. 

Honestly, though, my OCD makes quarantining easy, because I will not breach my designated walls without a mask, a spray and wipes to wipe down literally everything I come in contact with. 

On the other hand, my OCD brain also projects all the things I'll need to touch with no way around it while I'm sick and immediately makes me feel bad for them. Or being unable to do them. 

You know drinks, laundry, food. 

I immediately got mad at myself, because I have been lazy with two things lately:

1. Folding the laundry in the dryer
2. Filling up the fridge with fresh loose sodas to minimize the need for me to touch things.

So I have a full ass load of laundry downstairs in the basement and an empty fridge that desperately needs cold drinks. 

And also, my body and my brain are responsible for the food things here and I immediately worry that Mickey won't have his lunch to take to work (I cook him up potatoes every day - I've been experimenting with different flavor combos and I have been having a lot of fun with it). 

I don't want to touch any of the kitchen or cooking stuff, cause I don't want to spread my germs. 

So, I asked Mickey for help. Yes, even though filling up the fridge with fresh drinks and doing laundry stuff is easy to do, it was still very hard for me to ask, because my brain only remembers the times I'd been let down. 

However, now that I am healing myself and my brain, I remind myself that I have zero chance of not being let down if I don't ask for help. So, even though it's scary and my brain says, "No, don't do it! You'll just end up having to do it yourself, so don't even bother asking!"...

I still asked. 

So, while being sick sucks, I'm looking at is as a chance to get some practice with asking for (and gracefully receiving) help. Wish me luck. 

So far, Mickey has made me coffee and brought me Advil, my favorite cozy coze blanket, my

Until I pop a negative test, I'm gonna be holing up in my office, which, THANK THE MOON, I just got a new monitor for... or the bedroom, where I might even partake in some of that there cable TV that we still have for some reason, if I start feeling low enough.