Luck in the time of corona

Like an obsession I check my hospital's electronic medical record app on my phone. Like a compulsion, the numbers keep rising. The names I know ricochet back and forth: their room numbers flip from those I know to be on the regular floor to ICU-capable beds, some back and forth and back again. Is this for real?

I felt that about my symptoms, too, that began last Monday. It's cold in here, right? I asked Michael, as we were falling asleep. Hours later I was up for the night with a feverish feeling, chills, and muscle aches. I trecked -ok I live in a studio apartment so in reality I walked the 10 feet- to my couch and tried to fall asleep there. I am achy and feel hot and cold, I texted one of my best friends, as well as my dad. I don't know what to do. Up hours later still feeling unwell, I emailed my department's directors. I'll probably be okay by the morning, but in case I'm not, I'm not sure if I should come to work. 

Michael and I have nicknamed it community covid, I think we like the alliteration. And though my swab has yet to result as the days creep forward it has become more and more clear that even if my symptoms may be slightly amplified by anxiety, even if I think this can't be for real, I'm checking all the boxes that make this disease process very likely. Muscle aches, fatigue, slight shortness of breath, joint pain, diarrhea, dry cough. All mild, but I have to say I've never quite felt like this before. I can't do half a jumping jack, I told my mom. Stop trying to do jumping jacks, she replied.

I am fine, though- because I am young and healthy. I am fine, though- because I speak English and understand health and illness, warning signs, the importance of staying hydrated. I am fine because my family and friends have sent me enough food and love to get me through 3 pandemics. Because I live in a luxury apartment and building staff are leaving my deliveries outside my door. 

Because last night, already in bed at 7 o'clock, I heard cheering outside. I made my way to my balcony -7 strides from my bed, 3x6 feet in size- and I realized from porches and fire escapes and open windows all around people were cheering, both literally but also symbolically, for the change of shift at the nearby hospital. I greeted my neighbor, on the balcony right next door. What are they cheering for? I asked her, more out of awe and marvel than because I didn't know. They're cheering for you, she said. I'm fine because this neighbor texted me shortly after to ask if I had a sore throat and would like some lollipops. 

Suffice it to say, I am fine because I'm really, really lucky.

It goes without saying not everyone is getting this lucky. People of all ages are sick, and that they are sick alone in hospital beds is a heartbreaking reality that I think has made my colleagues and my heart ache as much as any piece of this. More than ever, in this age of digital connection we are appreciating the importance of true connection. Of our health. Of getting really lucky.