The other side of the door ~ caretaker/caretakee

I don’t know what the universe is trying to tell me, but I don’t agree with it’s methods.

This week Covid finally got me. I think my immune system was down already from having just fought off The Cold From Hell a week or so prior. I feel like I’ve been sick the entire month (or the entire year if I wanna be cute about it). The most frustrating thing about this is not how physically uncomfortable I am, but how I’m not able to get done what I want to get done.

Dean is still negative, and he just started a new job. They told him to stay home this week and come back and try again on Monday. So we want to make sure he stays negative. For better or worse, we divided the house seven months ago when he had Covid, so we knew what we were doing. I didn’t get it then, and so far he is still testing negative. In an 800 square foot house with two cats who refuse to be on good terms with a closed door, this is an accomplishment.

It’s different being the sick one, though. When Dean had Covid, I was going stir crazy. Being stuck in half the house was driving me nuts and I spent a lot of time outside calling friends. I was a little worried when that double line showed up and here we are in the middle of January when going outside isn’t so comfortable. However, I have to say, since I’m run down, I’m not stir crazy. I’m perfectly content to shuffle from the bedroom to the office and back again.

Both times I had to cancel several coffees with friends, but the first time, I felt this weird since of dread that I hadn’t felt since lockdown. This time I was just pissed and resigned. One nice thing is that since Dean is the one in the kitchen/living room part of the house, most of the time he makes food for me and passes it to me. Usually placing it in some neutral area and retreating so that I can grab it without coming into contact with him like a partially domesticated wolf.

Yes, Dean went out and got me Starbucks. I regret nothing.

I asked Dean how he felt about these things. (Via text, of course.) And the first thing he said, allow me to quote, was, “In the best way possible, it's nice to know that someone is depending on you sometimes.” Which, I mean, that’s nice. Because I haven’t minded the food service. (howl) I asked him if he didn’t feel like he was trapped on that side of the house. He said that he really didn’t use this side of the house much before aside from sleeping. Which is true. The office/workout room has become my area for better or worse. But the same was true seven months ago and I still felt trapped. I do basically stay in these two rooms, but I was going nuts.

“What about sleeping on the couch?” I asked. He responded, “I mean, I definitely prefer the bed, but it's not terrible.” Interesting.

I asked him if he could think of any other differences and he did bring up that when he was sick, not only did he have the ability to work from home at his old job, but he also had PTO. He basically had to take three unpaid days at the job he’d just started because of this. Fingers still crossed he doesn’t get it.

As far as the illness itself, I think the vaccines are doing their work. The cold I had earlier in January felt much worse than this. In fact, I was nearly convinced that I’d had Covid and just tested negative out of a fluke. Don’t get me wrong, this has not been fun. I don’t think I’ve ever coughed so much in at 31 day period in my life. I literally pulled a muscle in my ribs yesterday coughing and today when I cough or sneeze or blow my nose, I feel like I’m being stabbed. I can’t sleep and I’m also tired. But it’s okay.

During my cold I would try and lift weights and have to stop. I can lift weights during this. I just lay down after. During the cold there was one day when I literally couldn’t drag myself from the couch to the office to do a work thing. I told them I’d try and get to it in the next couple of days. I had never been so drained. I was able to work during this. Was I comfortable? No. Was I at my best? No. But if I took my time, I was able to get done what needed to be done.

As frustrating as it’s been, as many Kleenex, Sudafed, and Robitussin as I’ve plowed through, and me not being able to do what I want and feeling like I’m being stabbed half the time; it’s been easier overall with me being sick than when Dean was sick. I don’t know what that says about me. But Dean’s a pretty fantastic caretaker.