Yeah, so, about a month and a half ago, I got Covid.
After living in a pandemic for 2.5 years, Covid finally got me. I had gone to see “Jagged Little Pill” at the Golden Gate Theater, and I was being all fancy, not wearing my mask, and drinking champagne in my seat. Two days later, I had a nasty cold, and three days later, I was positive for Covid.
I was so disappointed in myself when I tested positive because I’d let my guard down. But I had to forgive myself and take serious care of myself. Luckily, Calvin tested negative and stayed with his dad, so I could recover. I ordered soup and juice delivery every day. I had the delivery people leave it on my porch, and then I’d crawl out of my cave like a gross, congested monster and drag it into the house.
Your girl is super vaxxed, so my symptoms weren’t too bad. Very congested, coughing, a little lightheaded, and fatigue; no fever. I lost my sense of taste and smell for two days which was soooo weird. Zero stars. Do not recommend.
I snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching “Andor” and “The Good Fight,” and waited to feel better. And eventually, I did. When it was finally over, I patted myself on the back and said, “Good job, body.”
Here’s the thing: This body has seen some shit. She survived breast cancer twice. She’s dealt with chemo and childbirth. She weathers panic attacks and anxiety eating. She fractured both (!) her elbows last December, but they healed up quickly. She lasted through a pandemic, and now she’s survived Covid.
My body is the Millenium Falcon. “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.”
I need to be nicer to this body. When dealing with the aftermath of my divorce, I focused a lot of energy on healing my heart and mind. It’s time to pay attention to my body. She deserves it. I want to be strong. More walking, back to yoga in the studio, more healthy eating, and setting aside time for some self-care like acupuncture, massages, and facials.
For me, 2023 is going to be less deplete yo’ self, more treat yo’ self.