You don't hear much of people's journey with the Coronavirus.That doesn't mean you shouldn't. It simply means folks have more interesting tings to write about.
I don't. So here goes.
It's Saturday morning as I write this and I'm on Day 4 of my Plaxovid regimen. I love the Plaxovid. But only because it has staved off (apparently) the severe hospitalization type reaction to the virus. But make no mistake the stuff tastes like shit.
Plax, as I like to call it, leaves a weird metallic residue in the mouth. And the kind of breath that could (apologies George Carlin) knock a buzzard off a shitwagon. And all the mints and mouthwashes in China can do nothing to rinse the foulness from my piehole.
Lest you think my Covid Journey, my very first Covid rodeo as it were, has been a piece of cake, albeit one baked in a steel foundry, allow me to dissuade you of the notion.
One night, I believe it was Night 3, though I wouldn't swear on a Bible on that, I awoke in pool of sweat. Not only was my body on fire with a fever, it was also simultaneously trembling from the chills. I rolled out of bed at 4 in the morning. Having been nominated as the World's Best Sleeper by my father in 1974, I never thought I'd be the kind of person that would be awake before the sun rose.
Thankfully, the misery was short lived.
Because what has made this Covid experience unlike the ones many of you have experienced is the fact that prior to seeing those two dastardly lines on the testing kit, I had been toughing out a gnawing issue with my left jaw. Months ago my dentist, who had just completed a lengthy root canal said to me, "I know you don't want to hear this, but you'll probably be back in here soon for another root canal on the adjoining tooth."
Doc, I thought, you don't know the Siegel constitution. I can fight off any impending gum inflammation with the sheer power of my will.
Stupid, me.
Yesterday, my tooth was throbbing like (insert your own NSFW metaphor here) and then multiply it by ten).
Fortunately my dentist, a jovial man of similar Hebraic Seasonings who often teases me, "Ooooo, root canal...I love doing root canals" prescribed me some Tylenol 3. The good stuff with the codeine.
I received a text that the meds were ready and decided to walk the mile to the drug store. Namely to get some much needed exercise. But also to build up the anticipation of those sweet opioids traversing my neural network and telling those pain receptor nerves to sit right the fuck down.
"Sir, we have your medications, but you'll have to wait until we get approval from the DA's office to release them to you."
"I'm positive for Covid, you don't want me sitting here. Wait, the DA's office?" I whispered.
"New regulations regarding the dispensation of narcotics," he said with a straight face.
And so I waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Is this what we have come to? A true Nanny State. Where good, innocent people have to suffer because of the bad behavior and abuse of irresponsible people. And yes, I'm well aware how this might come off as right wingish. Or even a bit Trumpy.
But come on, why is the Court System managing my healthcare?
"Your Honor, in the matter of Siegel vs. L29 Lower Left Bicuspid #2, Plaintiff is petitioning the Court for approval to ingest Tylenol 3 and court-sanctioned relief from what Mr. Siegel describes as 'a freight train running through the middle of my head'."
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