Tuesday, October 12, 2021

life is what we do while we wait to die

I have not written much about The Virus.

There is a good reason (or maybe several good reasons) for that. The first is that I do not find it a very interesting topic.

An important topic? Yes. I suspect, though, that almost everything that can be said has been said. A long time ago. Most things I now read are just one group of people yelling at another group of people. Sharing a joint Thanksgiving dinner with the families of Sean Hannity and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez would be just as rewarding.

But today is a different day. I have just been sharing comments with Gary Denness on his blog The Mexile. In September 2019, he came down with something viral that has left him on lifelong medication. But the doctors have not been able to tell him what he had -- though it sounds a good deal like the effects of The Virus. He concludes: "But we'll never know."

I told him that I understood his dilemma. When my India cruise was cancelled in February 2020, I flew through Seattle on my way home to Mexico. A couple days after I arrived, I came down with something. Mild cough. Terrible headache. Fatigue so bad I could not walk across my patio. And then both my taste and smell went on vacation to some small fishing village in Greece.

Back then we knew about The Virus, but not much. I simply self-medicated and avoided the staff for the two weeks it took me to recover. There were no tests for The Virus here at the time. I had convinced myself I had been hit with dengue. And if it was dengue, there was nothing I could do other than what I was doing already.

A few months later, an antigen test showed up in Melaque. By then I had my suspicions that The Virus had visited my house.

The test said otherwise. In October I took another test in Oregon. It was positive for past exposure, but not for current infection.

To this day I do not know for certain if I was an early battle casualty of The Virus. There is no way to know now -- just as Gary concludes about his bout. But it certainly did not keep either of us from stepping up for the jab.

I have no lingering symptoms of whatever exposure I had almost two years ago now. For that I am thankful. Unlike Gary, who has the advantage of being younger, I am old. And one of my medical conditions that accompanies age took an Al Capone baseball-bat swing at my head this morning. I survived, but today is one of those days to contemplate the mortality of mankind (mine, in particular) and just be glad that we can enjoy each day of life.

And that is what I intend to do. For me, yammering on about The Virus does not further the goal of stopping to enjoy the few days we are each given on this blessed planet. 

I am content with each day I have lived. I am content with this day I am living. And, if it is to be, I will be content with each day I have to live in the future. Especially, if there are not many of them. Because they are dwindling down to a precious few.

And I know no better place to appreciate them than these Mexican villages by the sea.

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