For once, I have a positive update to post about. As you may know, I have spent the last two weeks acting as a COVID caregiver to my Bestie and her family. I also had my niece over here at my place staying away from home and the virus that was ravaging the household. I did daily grocery runs, temperature checks and oxygen readings. I’m not the best caregiver in the world, given my own medical problems, and who could blame me?
During Devan’s isolation period I was only allowed to have virtual visits through FaceTime. When I would bring groceries and such to them, I had to leave it on the porch and stand back at least 6 feet while she gathered the items. Seeing your Bestie from a distance, with masks on is just not the same. It was mild torture to have my best friend down the street and knowing that I couldn’t go to her. She was sick with something that has already killed one of my friends, so my anxiety was on overdrive and not being able to see and visit with her was literally killing me.
As of today, her entire household has been released from their mandatory isolation, and I am thanking the Universe for that. There were a few days there where I wasn’t so sure that she was going to make it. There was a period of about two or three days that I just knew she was lying to me when she said that she was feeling a little better. I know that she was just telling me what I needed to hear, but in my gut I just felt that it was worse than she was letting on about. This is what you do for people that you love. It may not be the healthiest tactic, but when you love someone you try to protect them from a painful truth.
Being the disabled caregiver this week gave me a fresh point of view as a caregiver. I believe that it was a bit more difficult for me to do some of the things that I needed to do for her and her family, but my love for them all kept me going. It was also my love for them that gave me hope that they would survive this hellacious virus. Love is not always romantic, you know. And sometimes friends become more like family than your own family. That’s not to say that I love my actual family any less – I’ve just added to what I call my family. Being a caregiver is more than just physically doing things to help someone else. It’s emotional. It’s draining. It’s rewarding. And it was worth every anxious moment that I endured. The happy bonus was that I got to spend the week with my niece, Tristin.
During this two-week period of dealing with COVID-19 hitting too close to home, we became the main vaccinators in our circle. My husband personally oversaw 5 separate COVID-19 vaccinations, one of which was my third dose. Devan and our roommate had each begged us to take their teenagers in for their vaccinations and, of course, I wouldn’t dream of saying no. Our own sons received their second doses of the Pfizer vaccine. It’s been one Hell of a week for us!
Now that my caregiver duties have ended, as if right on cue, my body sent me into a hellacious bladder flare that just started up last night. I spent the entire night running back and forth to the bathroom. I didn’t get to sleep until after the Sun was rising. I’m currently bedridden due to the excessive pain. I’m just thankful that my bladder waited until after I was done taking care of everyone to flare up on me. Had this happened last week, everyone would have been screwed. Now that I spent so much time taking care of everyone else, it’s time to take care of me!