COVID 19 DIARY POST#2

Dear Rumpole/Diary/-  How do I describe being a member of a select group that no one wants membership in? How can I describe the feelings of fear of being attacked by something doctors have told me they cannot defeat if the virus attacks my lungs and my organs begin to shut down? 

It's weird. I am scared. And then I feel okay and I want to go for a long bike ride (or in my case Peloton class) to show that I am healthy. But I am not healthy. My cough is subsiding and that is good. The fever is persistent and that is bad. I don't sneeze or have a runny nose. But I ache. I don't cook much and even if I did I have no appetite. I'm living on Progresso soups my girlfriend leaves at my door with little notes. I recommend the chicken corn chowder and sometimes a half a grilled cheese to go with it. Or some mac and cheese. I feel like I'm back in college. I swig OJ from the container. No one is in the house and I don't want to use glasses and dishes I have no energy to wash- or even to fill up the dishwasher. 

Part of me thinks this is a blessing. I will survive this. I will have passed the ultimate test of our new times and once on the other side of the river, I join a more exclusive club- those who have immunity to Covid-19. Maybe my antibodies will be analyzed and used to create a vaccine. A Presidential Medal of Honor sounds nice- me and Rush Limbaugh. Ha!  The Carl-Covid-19 Vaccine. Give me a small piece of Bristol Meyers Squibb and I'll save humanity. 

It is hard to deal with clients and not let them know I am sick. I hold this information  back because I do not want to panic them. Many of them just call me to make sure I am still around. They hear my voice and they are reassured. If I cannot do my job I have associates and partners ready to step in. But my clients like me and depend on me and I do not want to let them down. 

Meanwhile every attorney working from home now is swamping me with pleadings. The world is shut down and conversely I am more busy than I have been in months. 

Worst inconvenience- no cleaning woman. The woman who cleans my apartment and does my laundry and shops for me and feeds the cats and scoops the cat liter cannot help me. I am keeping her on salary. We have been together too long and this is my small contribution to the world for now. She offered to come in with a mask and I said no. 

Meanwhile my cats are furious. Cats like a nice schedule. Breakfast at 8. Sunbath in front window at 11. Light lunch at 12. Nap from 1-4. Chase socks across floor from 5-5:15. Knock over plant at 6 before dinner. Now they sit on me and screech that they have not been fed and I am sometimes too sick and tired to move. They have to wait and patience is not their strong suit. 

I crave a cold beer sitting in the sun. I crave holding my GF while we do the NY Times Sunday Crossword and sometimes sip mimosas. I crave a slice of Steve's Pizza in North Miami. I miss waking up worried about my cases and not the world. 

Thank you again Mr. R. This is my therapy. 
Covid-Carl.