I am getting over it now. I don’t know if it was the big IT, as in corona virus, but it was very bad for a few days. My son is living with me and another son had recently moved back to his own home. We tried our best to isolate.

Rusty stayed in the living room, and I stayed at least eight feet away from him most of the time. Rusty got something first and went to the emergency room at the insistence of a case manager. They didn’t test him for the virus but said a chest x-ray revealed bronchitis. The doctor prescribed antibiotics and sent him home. They said he would be safer at home than in the hospital and would probably get over it quicker.

He was down for nearly 14 days, five of which he decided to move upstairs into a spare bedroom. He barely got up to go to the restroom, he was so sick.

During the early days, the only time we weren’t at least six feet apart was when he passed my computer desk. It is pretty tight quarters going behind my chair.

Curt’s work had shut down for nearly three weeks, and he stayed pretty much to himself in the room across the hall from the spare room.

Both kept their doors shut. We all kind of fended for ourselves in the kitchen but were seldom in that room at the same time.

Curt went to the store when necessary and actually took me to the store with him the first Monday he was off work. They had an hour set aside for seniors to shop in the morning, and I wanted to be sure to get the essentials. After that I stayed home.

When I wasn’t at my desk, I was in my bedroom downstairs. We were about as socially distant as we could be.

By the time Rusty started feeling better and wandering back downstairs, I had started feeling puny. It started two weeks ago last Sunday (March 29). I had a headache most of the day, and I started having tremors again. (The tremors had been so much milder, particularly in my right hand, since I had the surgeries to implant a deep brain stimulator.) I felt a little feverish, but then we all know about those hot flashes as we get older.

I am tied into a couple of networks that check in with me from time to time, and I think it was Wednesday when my case manager from Lifestreams called the first time. I explained my symptoms and she said she would call back in a few days to see if I was feeling better again. The following day, a staff member with my family doctor’s office called and I told her what I was feeling.

By April 8, I was feeling very sick and kind of confused. By then Curt was back to work and Rusty had moved back to his house. I was alone, except for my Lifeline button.

I called for help.

I know it was just a few minutes but it seemed like much longer before I heard a knock and the front door opened. It was two paramedics dressed in blue wearing face masks (one of them looked like he had speakers on each side of his mouth), and it looked like every inch of their bodies was covered.

They asked how long before someone was home with me, and then suggested I sit quietly for a while and see if that didn’t help. They also said they would take me to the hospital if I wanted to go, but they wouldn’t recommend it. I said I didn’t want to go because there were too many sick people there.

One of the medics got close enough to stretch out his arm and give me a remote for each hand, asked if I needed anything else and then told me to call back if I needed help.

The next day I was calling the doctor. I told her I didn’t know if I had a fever because I didn’t have a thermometer, and Curt had not been able to find one anywhere … I was having cold sweats, though, and a dry cough. She wanted me to go in for an X-ray, but I told her I was afraid to go to the hospital these days. She called in a prescription for antibiotics and told me to call her back if I felt worse. Otherwise, her nurse would be calling me the following week.

I sat here with my mind going wild about all the possibilities if I had IT. Even if I did have COVID-19 and went to the hospital, my odds were about the same as if I stayed home, I thought.

So, I stayed home. Alone.

But, actually, I wasn’t alone. By the 13th of April, Rusty was checking in on me daily by telephone, while Curt was at work, then Curt checked to see if I had what I needed before he went into isolation upstairs. (I called him on his cell phone if I needed anything because my voice had gotten very weak.)

Curt also kept nagging me (I know he meant well) to put some honey in my coffee or drink some water with honey and lemon juice. “I do that every day and you see who’s not getting sick don’t you?” he said.

Yesterday the case manager from Lifestreams called to check on me again. This morning (April 16), the nurse from the doctor’s office called. I was happy to report that I was feeling much better, although I still get a little out of breath and am tired.

I still don’t know if I had the virus or not. The symptoms were much as the websites said. I still have the sniffles and a slight cough. But I can truly say I was alone, together during the ordeal.