I'm So Tired

It all started with a sore throat. Well, maybe it started with my partner's stuffy nose and sneezing. No, OK, probably it all started with anxiety.

When CO-VID19 stories started popping up, I read the headlines but barely gave them much thought. As the virus made it way to our shores, I began reading more but still didn't see any cause for alarm. In most cases it's mild, I said. I might still take that planned trip to LA, I said. I went out to cover the art fairs and I kept dates with friends. But I did buy an extra can of beans here, some more lentils there. Just, you know, in case.

Then my partner got a cold. An icky one, with his nose running and sneezing and a sore throat. Do you have a fever? I asked him. I don't know? he said. We searched for a thermometer in our apartment but couldn't find one. We didn't try searching for one out in the world. ("My bf found one of the last thermometers in NYC," a friend texted me today.) Meanwhile, I went down a coronavirus rabbit hole. Twitter and the news were all I could look at. This article said I could still travel. That one with all the charts made me panic. Should I cancel my trip?? Should we stock up on food?? What's going to happen??? How do I manage this anxiety?? According to this chart of symptoms you probably don't have the coronavirus, I told my partner. But then I studied another chart and I wasn't so sure. I read another thing. I mean...it was possible. Unlikely but possible. I was a woman obsessed addicted, unable to think about anything else.

After a few days he started to feel much better. Hooray! No more cause for concern. We used disinfectant wipes to wipe the hell out of the surfaces in the apartment, and it seemed like maybe I wouldn't even get whatever he had. What a relief!

I admit I'd been sneezing, but the thing is, I'd been sneezing for literally two months because it turns out I might be allergic to this adorable new kitten that we got. So I didn't think much of it. The sneezing. But then my throat got scratchy. I went out anyway, and when I got home I felt like an asshole. Maybe I shouldn't have gone out. But my throat hadn't actually felt scratchy until I got there. Should I have turned right around and gone home? What should I do??

Yesterday I knew was definitely sick. My throat was still sore, but I also had that feeling you get when you're sick and you just know something is...off. At night, as I was making dinner, it hit me that I so, so tired. Like can-barely-get-a-pot-of-water-going-on-the-stove exhausted. I thought eating would help, but when I finished I was still so, so tired. I just needed to sit and...do nothing. My partner asked me how I felt and I didn't really know how to explain it. It still hasn't gone away, and I still don't quite have the words for it. Fatigue, I guess, is one. It's definitely different than how I usually feel when I have a bad cold. The tiredness just permeates everything, creating a cloud around me. I feel it deep in my bones and in front of my eyes.

Do I have CO-VID 19? Heck if I know. Fatigue is a symptom, but so are dry coughs and fever, which I don't have. Normally I wouldn't seek medical attention for something like this. But these aren't normal times. There's a global pandemic going around, you know.

Unfortunately, our medical system is so broken that I have no choice but to stay home and not seek medical attention. I can't get tested for CO-VID19 because I'm not a player on the Utah Jazz. The recommendations out there, in our shithole country, are to self-quarantine, drink lots of fluids, take medicine, and wait it out until you're feeling better. What a joke. What 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 joke!!

I probably don't have the new coronavirus—or I don't know, maybe I do. It feels like I'm meant to care but also to not care, to treat the whole thing seriously but also casually, as if it were a shitty boyfriend who's just loyal enough to keep around.

I could have the new coronavirus, or I could just have a bad cold. I could have a kind of flu. I could have something else! Or maybe, I keep telling myself, maybe it's just capitalism catching up with my body. All those sick days I never let myself take, all the times I insisted on working from home instead of resting. Maybe my body is finally in revolt—in sync, it seems, with the rest of the planet.

The thing is, I'll never know. And I hate not knowing, because it dissolves the illusion of control.

Anyway, if you need me, I'll be here, waiting. Drinking lots of fluids and watching lots of movies. Accepting my fate and taking lots of naps.