"...and I lived happily ever after."
Well, I think I can say it's finally over. This arduous journey. This "travelogue" that made its prologue TRAVELOGUE just a minor introductory chapter in the whole half-month-long story. Yes, I'm talking about my first, and hopefully, only run-in with Covid-19.
You can read all about my wonderous journey here, and here and here, oh, and here, and I'll likely be referencing it for many posts to come in the future. It's had an impact, to say the least.
I wrote about a bout of flu, well before the Age of Covid back in this post, that at times while I was having some of its horrible symptoms like violent shakes, fever and incredibly debilitating cough, it was comparatively worse than what I went through these last few weeks with Covid, but I think I'd still put Covid up there as the worst overall since I was distraught and afflicted with a great sense of doom as well. Plus, this thing really seemed to want to cling on and affect shit respiratory viruses aught not affect, in my book, at all like sense of smell and taste.
As I stand now on the other side, finally, I can point to one positive outcome. The illness either boosted the effects of other meds that work towards this goal or I had to burn more calories to fight this sucker, or, I simply ate less, or a combo of all three -- I'm not sure. In any event, I stepped on the scale yesterday and I'm at 268, and today, the scale says 266. I'll take the higher of these two values and chart that as my weekly weight because frankly, that's good enough and a drop this fast with no concerted effort on my part to lose the weight is, well, interesting. It's a drop of ten pounds in less than a month. Back in '13, when I was taking the Rainbow Magic Happy Pills and eating 1000 calories or less a day and had a job where I did a little walking around each night and regularly worked out at the Fitness Center, yeah, that was to be expected, but nowadays I eat French Bread pizzas and Tootsie Rolls and Chicken Cordon Bleu to my hearts content and sit on my ass all day. Oh, but I don't drink, really. I guess that has a play?
This experience has made me even more conscious of being around people. Now, I not only have social anxiety to worry about, I have a touch of germaphobia. And I'm going on a cruise in a couple months time. Oh brother.
The drama queen writer in me likes to leave endings, at times, a bit ambiguous to allow for the possibility of a potential sequel. But not with this story. This tale has no continuation other than that I'll hopefully take the end result weight loss and run with it, pushing on within the next few weeks or months (no rush, as long as we get there) past the 2013 lowest number of about 255 (only eleven more pounds??!) and -- beyond...
Then it will indeed be "happily ever after!"