DAY 23: "Keeping Up With The World"

      Woke & upped my caffeine levels. Brisk walk in the park, 9 laps before I'm short of breath & in medium pain. 9 x 5 days per week is my estimate, after seeing a Washington Post article that suggested 300 minutes of exercise each week to actually lose weight, not just calories. Can I keep the pace?

     In my earphones, Mick Harris' Scorn release from 2019 provides the soundtrack to a devastated landscape, and it feels appropriate for stumbling home.

     News this morning is that Larry King, the undisputed king of talk radio & television, has passed on. He had seemed to recover from COVID-19, having bounced back from diabetes, cancer, heart attacks and the deaths of close family members in 2020.

     King's weekly nighttime show was a big part of my exploration of the world, following my aborted stint in the Army National Guard. His topics ultimately led me to a clearer understanding of my own experience with sexual molestation as a minor.

Day 21: "Economic Stimulus Money"

     Received my Economic Impact Payment in the mail yesterday. Not a check this time but a debit card. Word on the street is that the card will be rechargeable in the future, should further EIP amounts be issued. But the AI voice at 1-800-240-8100 says otherwise. A cryptic note at the shoddy website (EIPCard.com) also says a "One-Time Contribution." I better hang onto the card in any case.

     Activating the card by phone is easy, but I have no intention of using it as a debit. In order to transfer the amount to my bank, I have to create an account online, etc..

     While in Google Chrome, used for only the most up-to-date websites, it seems I can enter in all my data except email address. I try multiple addresses and different checkboxes but nothing works.

     Starting over in I.E. however, reveals to me a hitherto unseen question with a required response field.

     There was also the standard emailing of temporary access & verification codes. As I have to open my email in SeaMonkey due to similar dysfunctions in I.E., I now have three browsers open at once.

     And finally, the sign-out button is well-hidden in plain sight. But the operation was a success.

DAY 20: "The Better New Year's Day"

      We make another jaunt over to LC. Metro Transit buses have confusing Covid rules. Strictly one disabled rider in the handicapped section at any given time, no one else. However, despite all the assigned seating, the driver indicates to us that there are no limits to overall capacity (save that of size, of course). I count 13 seats available by Covid rules, but I guess you pays your money, you takes your chances. I don't press for further information on this account. We're lucky in that the 330 is always nearly empty on the noon run. However, that makes it a candidate for cutbacks.

     We take our time in LC and stop into Elliott Bay for lunch. Seating is strictly outdoors. I have a Pilsner, a mild substitute for a proper Kölsch. Later, on the way to the restroom, the manager points out that I'd forgotten my mask. An understandable embarrassment. 

     Dré pops in & out on his way to work. St.Tom joins us, chats, and takes us home. It's New President Day (finally) and we all have a lot to say along the way.

DAY 17: "Old Habits, Poor Hygiene"

     A group field trip to a few grocery stores: Despite my good intent, I come close to other shoppers momentarily. Recorded messages play over the P.A. occasionally, reminding us to wear masks and remain socially distant (where possible, I expect). At one location I pay in cash, doling out dimes. I've been told in the recent past that there's a coin shortage. At other stores I pay by card, using the keypad. My mental notes don't stick, and i forget to apply hand sanitizer when I'm done.

     At home I put away my groceries and fix a sandwich. I've forgotten to wash my hands. How lame can I be? Once again the forebrain has let me down. All that evolution gone to waste. 

DAY 16: "Anxieties"

     Four laps this morning. Gave up when the track became too crowded for my composure. Anxieties drove me away. That and the lack of will power.

     I notice that none of us here at home actually do much. Video games, downloading, binge-watching: Nothing you'd call productive. Weekend radio consists of reruns. Tomorrow's expected to be a domestic terrorist rampage. But today, as far as I can tell, has been fairly quiet.

     The landlord's outside my door, talking to Bat. They're talking about me for some reason but I can't hear what's being said. They think that I'm asleep, thankfully. I've paused a movie, responded to Dre's text, and tried to come up with an entry for the blog.

     Grocery run planned for tomorrow. We'll have to keep an eye out for maskless terrorists. Having something to be wary-of makes me weary. I'd prefer to cancel.

DAY 15: "Symptoms To Watch Out For"

     I have neither the energy nor the impulse power to short-circuit my own lethargy just to go for a walk this morning. Perhaps later on with Anja.

     On the radio, I'm still hearing news of the various Covid vaccines, where either of the two-part doses comes with temporary side effects that make the recipient ill for a time. No one seems to be complaining too much, but it sounds as if a person should not only plan their calendar around the second dose, they may want to prepare for being sick for a while.

     …Tiredness, chills, fever, nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light, muscle and/or joint pain… Something to look forward-to. In the meantime, we have a new variant to combat. 

     Could be that the planet's finally upset with us. We're in a race against nature. Human nature vs. Mother Nature. In Los Angeles, a person dies of Covid every 6 minutes now.

DAY 14: "What's Ahead"

     We talk some, Pete & I, via text, about the latest stimulus check. Technically speaking, I believe it's supposed to be a "relief" payment, but in either case it'll be going toward economic necessities for most of us. St.Tom said he doesn't need it, but if he spends it with saving the economy in mind, it'll be of good use. Nobody I know has received one yet, although friends of Bat have already.

     In the meantime, I can barely fathom the desperate need felt by those who've found themselves without work or rent as a result of this disastrous plague. At the very least, foreclosures are coming. 

     Likewise, it's hard to say when many of us will be vaccinated. Just as with the Covid Relief package, I'll believe it when I see it. But even after being vaccinated, I hear that it still takes time to build up in one's body. Regular safety precautions are to remain in effect. 

     Unless you're a Republican!

DAY 13: "Covid Policies For Grocery Stores"

     Today's planned trip is to LC for groceries: The bus on our route is nearly empty. This is usual. It's a community college run, but nowdays, most classes are online. 

     Once in the store, I try to do a better job of staying away from people -- and grit my teeth when they fail to do the same for me. No harm, no foul. It's just groceries.

     The store has a policy: Don't place your own bags in the bagging area (they might be infected)! You're to place your bags in your shopping cart and fill them by hand in an otherwise standard manner. Me, I find it easier to ask the cashier to bag them for me (paper, please). They do a better job at it, taking less time than I and my fumbly fingers will allow. Outside, I lift what I can carry and let my housemates haul the rest.

     All in all an unremarkable day for those of us far away from the nation's capital. COVID-19 has taken a back seat in the news since the Insurrection a week ago today.

DAY 12: "Close Quarters"

     Woke. Walked. It rained a bit. My mood dropped. All it takes is a thought, at times. I forget about it already.

     By now you've heard the story of U.S. Rep. Bonnie Watson Coleman (NJ-12th, D). She contracted COVID-19 after being "safely" shut in with maskless Republican lawmakers during the attempted coup in the Capitol building a week ago. These Republicans laughed at members' pleas to wear their masks.

     In addition to Coleman (a 75-year-old cancer survivor), two other conscientious Democrats have been infected. Our own Rep. Pramila Jayapal (WA-7th) and Brad Schneider (IL-10th). Jayapal is now calling for yet another reason to consider expulsion of those Republican members who refused to wear masks.

     After nearly being infected by the same attitude myself, I second the motion.

DAY 11: "Negative Test Result"

     7 AM: A can o' coffee and I'm ready to check the status of my health online. And the results are in! It's a Negative: COVID-19 NOT detected. But the button to download the page only apparently allows for printing. I'm still using I.E., so that might explain it. Window's snipping tool comes in handy to save the report. 

     Now to text my friends the news. Having a walk in the drizzle in the meantime.

     There's always a remote possibility of a false-negative, but it seems unlikely, especially given the matching results of Brandon's test after the same incident. I might be over-reacting but I intend to be more attentive to social distancing in public. It's been fun 'n' all, but I don't want to have to go through this again.

DAY 10: "Don't Assume"

      To avoid using the bathroom we share, I've been washing my hands & face in the laundry-room sink. But I'm assuming no one else uses it. It's easier to sterilize than every other surface. The trick is to always let the disinfectant dry on its own, without wiping it off. We have several on hand.

     At this point, I feel I dodged a bullet. I'll check my results online tomorrow. The whole experience has been foolish. Perhaps I took it too lightly, we'll see. 

     I hear that a person dies of Covid every 8 minutes. I can't approach that with the proper gravity it deserves. I am incapable. As my own symptoms never developed, my mood improved. It feels like a game now. It's understandable that others think us paranoid, as if that were reason enough to spread the risk.

     What a disease. It's really made fools of us.

DAY 9: "A Test For Me"

     Woke at 5, far too early. Took a Mindful Self-Compassion break; not the full-blown meditation. 

     Then, shower ahead. 

     For a body in quarantine, today's gonna be a big day. Just the sudden idea to hang my mask on the doorknob felt like a major breakthrough.

     By some miracle, we actually make it to the testing site on time. Despite waiting behind four lines of cars, I hit my mark barely five minutes after the scheduled appointment.

     First booth confirms my I.D.. Here, I receive a code on paper to check my results online at a later date. 

     Second booth: A narrow swab goes into each nostril for ten seconds apiece. It tickles the back of the throat. Then I'm done. "Check your code in 24 to 72 hours." Everyone is very nice.

     Once home, Brandon tells me that his own results came back Negative! Woohoo, I'm in the running!

DAY 8: "Walk Your Blues Away"

     Slept midnight to 7 AM. Coincidence brings Hartmann to the local show: An interview about his 2006 book Walking Your Blues Away. Thus my plans for a walk this morning are cinched in this manner. Once in the park, I make it three laps under dribbling rain before the pain in my low lumbar seems to sink into my left hip. Barry's there too, so i throw him peanut. Satisfied, he doesn't squawk at me this time.

     I haven't showered in seven days. Some kind of record. Until now I was immune to my own fumes. Gonna scrub myself down early tomorrow and sterilize all surfaces, then go for my test in the afternoon.

     Had a can of soup for lunch. Bit of a scare there for a moment cuz I couldn't taste it. Turns out it was just bland. And the spray disinfectant seemed to take my breath away. OK now.

     Salad & fish patties for dinner, with Bat's wasabi (horseradish and ponzu). Delicious. All in all a stress-free Friday.

     Brandon made it to his test today. They gave him a code to use 48 hours later so he can check the results by phone.

     I'm ready for this.

DAY 7: "Testing Testing 1-2-3"

     Slept poorly from 11:30 PM to 10 AM. Be nice today to get outside. Skipping coffee.

     After much phone tag, I was able to determine that we are strongly urged to make our COVID-19 testing appointments online. So, instead of Seattle.gov, I went to SolvHealth.com and scheduled a test at the 12020 Aurora Avenue North site for 2:10 PM on Saturday, January 9th. They want me there at 1:55 with photo I.D. ready.

     My deductible this year is $203.00, so ultimately I'll be writing someone a check.

     Steven's doing much better; plans on spending time with Jean's family in Normandy Park. Got some numbers for him. Two testing sites in the area: Franciscan Prompt Care (206-965-4180); and Highline College COVID Testing (206-477-3977). With planning, they can take him to an appointment there.

     But it'd be better if he could get a test result before he leaves for Jean's. In his area there's MultiCare Indigo Urgent Care in Wallingford, 118 NE 45th (206-430-7570). Appointments preferred. Too far with emphysema for him to walk, but very closeby if he can arrange a ride. 

     We plan to keep in touch.

DAY 6: "Hijacking America" *

     Snoozed until 10:30 AM, talk radio on. Dreamt that Thom Hartmann was jetskiing while holding onto a second jetski occupied by a foamcore cut-out of the continental US. However, before he had left port, someone had wedged a large Xian cross along the Eastern edge of the model, affixed proudly from Maine on down to Florida. Only now does he notice the cross but it's too late for him to turn back.

     I join the narrative and chase Hartmann down in a jetski of my own. What kind of dream is this? I hijack the second jetski, taking with it it's symbolic foamcore to a random spot along the nearby coast, covering it in the dirt under an upturned liferaft. Then I wade back into the waters to drown.

     I awaken to news of The Insurrection in D.C. and begin cleaning my room. Still no signs of any infection. In two hours I had sneezed twice.

     There should be a rule that in cases of insurrection all commercial interruptions be suspended.

     Update: I learned last night that Jim's out of the stir but there's now a restraining order barring him from coming within 1000 feet of the premises. Dunno how that came about, just yet. Seems excessive. But I'm too liberal to take my own side in this fight. I hope Jim finds some peace, quickly.

* um, now…with quotation marks.

DAY 5: No Test For You! *

     A full night's sleep for a change. Have to sterilize and suit-up just to leave my room for a can of espresso.

     Previously on CovidNotebook, Brandon had scheduled a time for us to be tested today at 3:55 PM. I was instructed to call the UW-Med call center (206-520-5000) to give them my medical insurance info. On hold for 18 minutes. Janice (not her real name) tells me that the appointment can't be amended to include me. I restate my terms to make sure we understand each other: As planned, I'd be riding in the same car with Brandon; test me then. She says No Can Do. "Imagine if everyone wanted to do that!"

     I do imagine. There'd be a lot more appointments available. I mean, how much time does it take to check I.D. and jam a stick up somebody's nose?

     Nope, that's a No. Despite this, Brandon had been told it was fine and quite common to book more than one person for a test.

     I'll have to make other arrangements when I can secure a ride. Stay tuned for further developments.

     Now for an hour of Psytherapy at 12:15 via telescreen: Interpersonal challenges in my past have made me sensitive to tensions that even normally cause significant daily anxieties for me. Fear 'n' anger activated my hindbrain whereby I had no greater emotional capacity to act judiciously. A decrease in my serotonin levels may have made me susceptible to this emotional regress. …That, and I didn't like someone playing Russian Roulette with our lives.

* Now! With chapter headings!

DAY 4

     Awoke at 7:30 after a deep, melatonin-induced sleep. No symptoms. I'm imagining Jim's current situation. He's had it rough and didn't deserve to spend the new month under lockdown. But he insisted the officers do their job and make an arrest (meaning me). I feel bad for him. 

     This pandemic is new for all of us, including those of us with certain instabilities. Should it matter, I resolve to purchase a few extra caps of Duloxetine to make sure I don't lapse again. I did this with Ziprasidone, which has withdrawal-like symptoms once you run out. 

     In the meantime, I stay in my spider-hole until testing negative. Assange beat the odds; so can I.

     From my Doctor: "People are usually significantly more crabby if they miss a dose or two of serotonin-increasing medication. [...] The insight you have about the incident is reassuring that there's not a more substantial problem."

     That's right. I feel responsible, not guilty.

     Planning on taking the test tomorrow after therapy.

DAY 3

      Sunday 4:37 AM: Bit of a dry cough. Throat fine. I'm okay except I still feel pretty stupid. Sent a question to my Doctors regarding my fluctuating dosage of Duloxetine. Meanwhile, more self-quarantine. I need a shower.

     My understanding is this: A person with Covid is most infectious 2 to 4 days before showing symptoms, although this period can last up to 10 days.

     According to King County Public Health, says David (our landlord), they recommend that you wait fully 7 days from the point of possible contact with an infected person before you get the test. Okay, will do.

     No news today of Jim. I don't ask. Joel & Bat go shopping. They're late, so they bring me fast food tacos. Now I can take my night meds. 

     All-in-all, a boring Sunday, with plenty of talk radio reruns.

     Steven texts me. He's having a "snapback" effect from the bug he picked up last week. Already affected by emphysema, he faces a potentially dire situation. Nothing to do for now but sleep.

DAY 2

     Much over which to cogitate today. Much to replay. I'm 57 and I'm ashamed of my childish responses to Jim's harangues. I slid down the ladder to gut-level and threw gasoline on a fiery situation. Frayed from trying to reason with Jim, did I somehow think answering irrationality with more of the same would do the trick? Where was my mind?!

     Slept off & on last night, mostly off. Now, taking physical inventory, I can't help noticing: Slight sore throat. Got some chills too. So soon? Is this for real?

     Looks like I'm in for the ride. Meanwhile, self-quarantine.

     Note: What I thought was a parked boomcar every morning, turns out to be someone's snoring. Imagine that. Fwoomp… Fwoomp…

     Sometime today, in between naps, I realized that I'd been rationing my Duloxetine. The closer I always get to the end of each month, the sooner I run out by the 31st. We only get a 30-day supply. Would that explain my mental lapse? Conflict is so unlike me.

     Joel said he'd pick up my meds due on the 4th of Jan. Bat brought me salmon and salad. I ate slowly. I'm grateful for the friends I have. An understatement.

DAY 1

      Dare I go for my walk this morning? My spine feels up to it. Do I wear a mask? It's supposed to rain. Maybe it's raining now. It's five in the A.M. I've been up since 3:30. Sunrise in Shoreline is 7:58.
     I'm alert for the slightest pain or cough. What's the first symptom of Covid?
     Jim was tested a few days ago, but he received notice yesterday. He doesn't seem as --well, as "co-morbid" as the rest of us. With pre-existing conditions, I should probably self-quarantine as well, but a walk in the civil twilight ought to be okay.
     Do I wear a sign around my neck? "Unclean!" …Tie a broom down my back to erase my footsteps.

     Later, everyone wants to avoid the kitchen, but how can we? Amidst the junk downstairs, I prepare a place for us to eat. But this doesn't solve the problem of cooking. Luckily, a close friend of Bat's has donated some top-notch cleaning supplies.
     That'll come in handy.

     Later still, Bat is cooking Caribbean Jerk-seasoned squash; I'm pre-washing what dishes I can manage. Jim enters the dining area to repeat his story about testing positive. Brandon does his level best to keep the situation calm but Jim only interrupts. Again, Bat tells him that we're "immuno-compromised," which is inaccurate but metaphorically true. Brandon's explaining that it'd be best if Jim returned to his room. Yes, he's s making us nervous right now, and I say so. But Jim isn't having it. He calls us paranoid, repeatedly. Paranoid.
     "Alright, Fuck You!" I explain, confronting Jim, who pushes me back. We fight, as much as two old men can fight. "I'll slit your throat!" "I'll kill you first!"
     Yes, it goes like that. Sudden violence. I could've just kept my mouth shut. "Get the fuck off me." "OK, let go!" We disengage, I go downstairs. Jim attacks Brandon. Freakin' hell, why??
     Police arrive. We give statements. Jim is cuffed and led away after officers arrange a safe quarantine spot for him. I calm down outside. The chairs are wet but I don't mind.

DAY ZERO

      Zero, because it's December 31st today, and I've just come home from grocery shopping with a housemate to find a note on the kitchen table. Jim, our latest renter has tested positive for COVID-19. We have to sterilize surfaces and/or get our affairs in order. I have trouble assimilating this new information; can't concentrate on simple tasks. There's anger present, and resentment, and resignation. Jim has left his debit card & PIN on the table. He too will need someone to do his shopping for him. …Too much information.
     Jim works for Amazon. He's a Social Distancer. …Takes the temperature of workers as they enter the facilities. There's been a slight outbreak. It was almost bound to happen.
     Bat & I cook our food quickly and take it downstairs to eat in relative safety. Joel wears his hazmat mask. An air intake vent is in Jim's room. How long before we all get it? The landlord will assume some responsibility. At first we look for hotels to take Jim. No can do. Another bad idea anyway.
     We shall see in the coming days if it is possible to remain unaffected by coronavirus in the same house when one of us is already compromised. What else can we do?