Lisa Marie Blair

I’m home for the second day in a row with whatever head cold I’ve been unfortunate enough to contract. I felt awful when I woke up, but as the day wore on and I slipped in and out of sleep my symptoms slowly improved throughout the day—enough even for me to commit to heading into work tomorrow!

Of course, by now my symptoms are returning and I’m regretting all the assurances I made to my coworkers. More than regret I feel angry. Honestly, I want to be able to simply take the remainder of the week off to recover, without guilt, without all this pushing and prodding, without all the worry and shame.

If I’m really honest, I know deep down this anger isn’t really about just this week. It’s about having to work any day at all. It’s about the loss of my days, the loss of control, and the loss of my passion.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love my job. It’s easy, fulfilling, respectable, and sometimes even enjoyable, as far as jobs go. Over the years I have found some purpose in it and made the role critical to the long-term operation of my department. I’ve managed to muster enthusiasm for my day-to-day responsibilities but it’s never felt as satisfying as spending my days circling deeper subjects and following subtler leads around life.

I suppose that old dream of making something of myself, for myself, from myself is feeling a bit renewed. My day job allows me to make a difference but I want to leave a more personalized mark.

And when the time is right staying motivated and focused comes easy. Nothing has to be so forced. The right ideas, the right instincts, the right words come without having to be called forth. Time presents itself and space opens wide.

I went to bed last night with an awful sore throat and throughout the night declined until I found myself sleeping on the couch popping cough drops one after another in a desperate attempt to calm the irritation and get some sleep.

Today I am staying home sick and hoping it’s not Covid so I can head back to work tomorrow morning. Not because I want to, but because I don’t want to feel bad about being home.

I have serious doubts I’ll make it in though. For one, I have a complete loss of appetite and for two, my supervisor herself is out with Covid that began with the same symptoms I am presenting now.

Since I was off almost all of last week, there’s no chance I was exposed to her but I was out shopping and visiting with family all over town in close contact with maskless strangers. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if the test came back positive. I’ve been far too lax about protecting myself.

And this is why I believe in mask mandates. Of course in an ideal world, the choice would be our own. In an ideal world, we would all make the right choice too but the reality is it’s too hard for humans to change and too easy for them to change back. Our minds cannot fathom the risk and we certainly can’t hold on to alarm for long.

Even for those of us who believe in the effectiveness and support the measures forget. Even those of us for whom the measures are made to protect forget! Humans tend toward the convenient and the comfortable and without specific and frequent reminders we lose sight of what is right.

Still, I may not have Covid at all, but further still, my point stands. I know my immune system is both over-reactive at times, and ineffective too. I know I have to protect myself against all kinds of infection. I know that I have to protect others too. These past months I’ve done a poor job of both. It’s no wonder I’ve finally come down with something.

Every lesson must be learned—and relearned—the hard way.