Thursday, March 25

I felt a little aimless this morning. Usually mornings, as ridiculous as it sounds, feel like a busy time. I wake up early, meditate, shower, drink my ginger tea, and usually finish the previous day's blog. I have breakfast around 6:30 with black tea, then usually mess around on my computer, often writing down some thoughts for that day's blog while drinking my third tea—rooibos with milk. And it all feels like it goes by at a pleasant hum.

But this morning I felt sluggish and time went by slowly. I didn't sleep well last night—I bleached my teeth and I woke up several times to a bad taste in my mouth and the strange feeling of having my teeth in trays. I've been waking up later—around 6:00am—and just had time to meditate, shower, and drink my ginger tea before sitting down to breakfast around 6:45am.

I had the Thai breakfast this morning—a kind of congee with minced pork, served with a few pieces of spring rolls and several little packaged additions.

It was good, but I'd have liked it better if I didn't add the pickled chilies, which is mostly just a packet of vinegar and a little too piquant for me in the morning. I didn't have my morning tea because of the teeth bleaching, and instead had a rooibos tea after breakfast.

I didn't find I had anything to write about for the blog, so after I published the previous day's entry, I read a little, talked to Roman on the phone, stared out at the empty parking lot from my balcony, and eventually made another tea—a chai rooibos.

I'm not sure if it was the lack of tea, the change in my normal type of breakfast, the kind of nagging headache I've had for days or the fact that WE'RE ON DAY ELEVEN OF QUARANTINE AND SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE WE'LL NEVER EVER LEAVE but I just felt kind low-energy and...bored. Bored. A forbidden word in q-tine. Say it aloud and it becomes so.

Roman and I were both feeling a little less-than-our best this morning. Sleepy and restless and just so ready to be done with quarantine.

But we did see some flowers, and I managed to capture some pigeons in flight.

 

I felt worse when I returned to my room—my head hurt in spite of the Ipubrofen I'd taken and my recently-bleached teeth ached, and even though I knew it was a normal side effect, the touchy sensitivity of my teeth made a feel a little raw and exposed and unwell.

I had to push myself to do yoga, and settled for a short 30-minute video. I internally rebelled against it for about 20 minutes, until I finally began to feel a little better. Things were further improved by eating lunch.

 

Rice with roasted duck

The afternoon felt long and desultory. I read my books, meditated, and hung out on the balcony. My head was still aching and I did a “yoga for headaches” class and took two more Ibuprofen, but nothing seemed to help much. My head hurt, my throat was sore, and even though I was drinking lot of water and tea, I still felt dehydrated.

Then I took my temperature for the hotel's 5:00pm temp check and it was the highest by far that it's been since we arrived—37.6C, or like 99.68F.

I started spinning out a little. Of course what I thought was, What if I have Covid?

I knew I was being paranoid, and that it was was very unlikely I had Covid. And didn't I just think I had Covid yesterday? I get headaches all the time. And I was drinking hot tea when I took my temperature, which probably skewed the results.

Still, I have my last Covid test tomorrow, and a part of my brain was running through the scenario of what would happen if I tested positive. I'm pretty sure it's mandatory for the quarantine hotels to hospitalize patients if they test positive for Covid. This was in fact what we'd bought Covid insurance for. But if that happened, how long would I be hospitalized? How would it work? Would Roman just go on to the airbnb?

I tried to stop catastrophizing. It was very unlikely I had Covid—I'd pretty much have to have caught it during the flight and only tested positive now, since I'd had so little exposure to anyone since then. And if I did have it, there was really nothing I could do about it now. All I could do was wait and see.

(Obligatory dinner pic)

I took my temperature after dinner, and it had gone down significantly. I kept taking it over the next hour, until it had gone down to a cool 36.6C. I called Roman to tell him about the little drama that had gone in my head, and generally felt less freaked out.

This is what I'm sharing now, then? My paranoid delusions? Can we at least blame my reaction in part on the pandemic? Can we at least put, like, 54% of the blame on the pandemic and not my undisciplined mind?

We are all of us keeping it together