Thorns and Wrinkles

             You know the saying: I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

            You know what else they say, something like don’t even think it or it will come true.

            Here I am four days into a COVID19 infection, kicking myself that for starters I thought I was invincible, that I’d gone this long with a fair number of minor exposures and I’ve even had the vaccine. Also kicking myself because I’d been thinking I should get the booster and here I am. Also thinking, oh, so I’m positive – I have an awesome immune system and I’ve had the initial two vaccines, how bad could this be?

            It’s bad. I know I’ll get through it; I hate being dramatic, but, yeah, I feel awful, like those thorns have shot me through all over my body. And oh, if I could only smell those roses. I thought I had lost my sense of taste, but when I threw up earlier this week, I sure tasted that.

            The only rose in the picture is that Hubby hasn’t gotten sick. Good thing he went ahead and got his booster two weeks ago.

            So, here’s the thing. As much as every last one of us has been wishing for months now that this pandemic would go away, or that it will at least slink into nothing more than the common cold, it’s still out there, folks.

            And for you anti-vaxers, who want to say to me, “see the vaccine is nothing but a hoax, it’s worse for your body than getting COVID,” I say phooey to youey.

Get the vaccine, people, continue to wear your masks in public, social distance when you can.

I’ve got a whole theory about how I caught it. It’s all about numbers, and frankly, I’m too tired for that right now. Maybe next time.

Thanks for all your prayers and support. This is just another wrinkle in the road called life. I’d rather have wrinkles on my face though.