Last night around 11:30 pm I began to feel an achey sensation all over. That’s always a sign that you’re about to succumb to a fever or flu of some kind. I naturally presumed that I’d somehow been infected with Covid. Sure enough, the achey muscle thing led to a feeling of oncoming chills. I grabbed an extra warm blanket and huddled down and tried to sleep. I couldn’t, of course.
“Okay, I’ve been careful with the masks and washing my hands every time,” I thought to myself, “but I guess this fucking disease has finally gotten into my system.” I made an 8:30 am appointment to have myself Covid-tested at Dodger Stadium, which offers a fairly fast turnaround. I finally crashed from exhaustion sometime around 4 am, give or take.
When I woke up this morning at 9 am the aches and the chills were gone, and I hadn’t experienced any night sweats either. Somehow or some way, the thing that had visited my system a few hours earlier had taken a powder. Once again I’d dodged a bullet. All my life I’ve been thankful for my all-but-bulletproof German genes. Some of us are lucky in this respect. I know some get irritated when I say this stuff, but I’m just thankful.