I’ve had a lot on my mind lately and no Wi-Fi to post about it. After almost two years of hiding from the dreaded Coronavirus, it has hit close to home. My bestie and her boyfriend are positive for COVID-19. I am devastated and have been in a very dark place ever since. If you’ve been following this blog for any amount of time, you probably know that I’m not very close with very many people. I have two people in this world that I refer to as my best friend. One is my husband, and the other is Devan. Everybody that knows me knows that those two people mean more to me than life itself, and one of them is down with the 21st century’s version of the Plague.
When someone I love is down, the only thing that I want to do is go over and take care of them. That’s the type of person that I am. That is my love language, if you will. However, in this case, I’m not able to go over there and take care of her. I’m immune-compromised from immune suppressing drugs and am still at a high risk for COVID-19, even though I am fully vaccinated. It’s frustrating the Hell out of me because I just want to be there and help, and damn it, I want to feel like I’m doing more than just watching her kid for her. Her kid, by the way, is one of my favorite people on the planet and almost grown, so watching her doesn’t require much more than feeding her and getting her off to school. I feel like I should be doing so much more but my overly protective husband is not having it and I don’t feel like arguing with him about it. He’s probably right to be cautious, but when it involves somebody that I love, I throw caution to the wind and do whatever is necessary.
Bestie helped move us on Sunday of last week and was already feeling ill. She was careful with me and wore her mask just in case she had something that she could pass on to me. She moved me literally around the corner from her house. I should be excited right now that my best friend in the whole world is only a two-minute walk away. Instead, COVID-19 hit her household and now all I get is FaceTime phone calls and lots of worries. And Gods forbid, if she doesn’t answer that phone I freak out and think the worst is happening. I already lost one friend to COVID-19 and I’m so worried what will happen with my Bestie. I’m not in the best medical or mental condition to be worrying myself to death about this, but I just can’t stop it. Ugh! I hate this whole situation.
In the midst of this whole COVID-19 ordeal, I had my yearly physical with my primary care physician, Cassandra. During the visit, my doctor highly recommended I get my third dose of the Moderna vaccine due to my immune-compromised status. Considering that COVID-19 is hitting so close to home, I went straight to the pharmacy and got my third dose taken care of. The pharmacy staff actually tried to argue with me about it until I produced the letter signed by my doctor stating that I need the third dose. I can’t stand when the pharmacy wants to argue with me. I have had problems with this one in particular multiple times for several different issues, so it was no surprise to me. They have treated me poorly in the past over my pain medications so I was partially expecting there to be difficulty getting my third vaccine. People look at me and can’t believe that I’m as sick as my medical records say that I am. It’s one of the biggest discriminations that I have ever experienced in my life. Medical discrimination should not be happening. The people whose job it is to keep us alive should not be judging our medical treatment needs by the way that we look. I put in the extra effort and wear makeup and dress nice every day – even on the days that I feel like crap. If you saw me on the streets you would have no idea how sick I really am just by looking at me. Now, if you read my medical records, it would paint a very different picture for you. Looking at my records you would probably ask me how I’m still alive, because with all the problems that I have just waking up and breathing every day is a blessing.