We are swamped by people who actively and hatefully do not care

Last Updated on July 18, 2022, 1:58 PM | Published: July 18, 2022

Following more than two years of being cautious with my own health and the wellbeing of those around me, I contracted COVID-19 on July 6. 

I was visiting my family in Mobile, Alabama, a state that is dead last in testing, just behind Oklahoma, but like many people currently reading these words, my southern family bucks the trends and attitudes of their politically misbegotten state. They actively campaign against “Governor Meemaw,” Kay Ivey, and they get tested for COVID-19 on the regular. 

The day I started getting sick was beautiful. I was sitting on the porch of a 100-year-old house on Dog River, soaking up the good vibes and leftover fireworks displays when I instantly developed a harsh tickle in my throat. I was convinced I had inhaled one of the large flying insects that buzz the cattails along the shore. By the next day, I was sweating in my Airbnb while my wife and son continued to enjoy Southern hospitality. 

But another day later, my son had it, and then my wife contracted it the next day. All three of us tested positive at once. We felt like characters in “The Walking Dead” who made it through nine seasons, only to get chomped at the tail end of the series. 

We had the good fortune to have a close family friend in Mobile who happens to be a doctor, and she prescribed Paxlovid to us. Paxlovid, a combo platter of the antiviral medications nirmatrelvir and ritonavir that got approved for emergency treatment in December 2021, can dramatically shorten the worst symptoms of coronavirus. On the downside, the main side effect is a persistent metallic citrus taste in your mouth that is not unlike drinking a really caustic IPA. 

Our persistent weakness forced us into extending our time in Mobile, because 14-hour drives to Oklahoma are best reserved for well-rested, healthy people who can keep their heads upright. We had to find a second Airbnb that would take a family of sickies. We got lucky and settled into a few days of bedridden misery, broken up by carefully ordered food deliveries. 

The drive back to Oklahoma felt like a death march. 

I’m now testing negative for COVID-19, but the fatigue and congestion will not let go of my system. On Sunday night, I slept for more than 10 hours, only to wake up exhausted. This is clearly a case of “long COVID,” because I’m just barely able to write this column without feeling like my head is going to take a hard bounce off my desk, and this fatigue shows no signs of relenting. I feel like I’m falling down on the dancefloor during an extended mix of this disease.

Dr. Theresa Chapple, a nationally recognized epidemiologist who now serves as the public health director for Oak Park, Illinois, is one of the loudest voices of reason in the COVID wilderness that now characterizes life in America. Commenting on the rising cases of monkeypox, which reached 1470 cases last week, Chapple pointed out that the previous outbreak in 2003 only reached 47 cases. 

“Is it time to say the quiet part out loud?” Chapple tweeted on July 15. “Our individualized perspective to public health ruined our ability to control diseases.”

“Individualized perspective to public health” is a professional and super-nice way of saying that Trumpy dumbasses who took to Facebook to spread disinformation and assert their individual rights to deny science are the reason why I and probably too many of you are getting COVID-19. 

This BA.5 variant is not messing around. It does not care if you had COVID just a few weeks ago — BA.5 is reintroducing you to the unique misery of this virus, and it does not recognize your “research” as medically sound. 

I am now knocking on two weeks of dealing with COVID-19 aftereffects. The dull headache, the pain behind the eyes and, most annoyingly, my lack of strength after months of improving my health through exercise and nutrition are getting to me. 

My mind keeps going back to this mentally bereft person I saw just before succumbing to COVID. He pulled his pontoon boat onto a beach in Gulf Shores, a boat festooned with Trump/Desantis flags. He also wore a red Trump bathing suit. 

That man was having a hell of a time being a public dick about his personal opinions. We must stop confusing opinion with truth and wild guesses about cattle dewormers as science, because there is no reason why someone as vaccinated as me should have gotten this virus two-and-a-half years after its inception. It shows that your personal sense of responsibility can get swamped by people who actively and hatefully do not care.

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