Covid: my struggle*

*Yes, that is a totally inappropriate Mein Kampf joke.

Funny story about me and Covid: for the longest time, I didn’t seem to be able to get it.

As I mentioned in PANDEMIA, I thought I had it at the very beginning, in March 2020. I went to a crowded party in Brooklyn and felt awful for about the next 10 days. But the antibody tests came back negative, and maybe I was just stressed.

Then I didn’t get it.

My kids got it, my wife got it (twice), everyone got it. Not me. I slept next to my son overnight when he had it and didn’t get it. I had dinner with my mom when she had it and didn’t get it. I spent every day out, working without a mask in coffee shops and malls, and didn’t get it. I went to Wal-Marts and grocery stores and basketball games and didn’t get it.

A few days ago I was talking to a friend and he casually mentioned that he had recently gotten on a plane for the first time since Covid started. I thought, what? I’d never stopped flying.

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(SUBSCRIBE NOW, WHETHER YOU’VE HAD COVID OR NOT)

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I realized then that - weirdly - although Covid has taken over my work in the last three years, it has made little difference to the way my family lives. We had to navigate the rules that the schools imposed in 2020 and 2021, and the vaccine requirements that seemed to take over New York in 2021.

But the virus itself - and the fear of catching it - made no difference.

Plus I didn’t seem to be able to get it.

Of course, I wasn’t vaccinated, which helped.

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Which was good, since people on Twitter used to root for it to get me.

True story.

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But all that changed last month.

We’d taken the kids to Colorado for a ski trip. The thing about skiing in Colorado is that even the bases of the mountains are very high. We were sleeping at almost 10,000 feet. Adjusting to that altitude takes time, so I wasn’t surprised that I felt lousy. I expected it to pass after a couple of days, but then the third morning I was on the mountain and felt like I was getting hypothermic.

I stopped skiing for the day after three runs and felt feverish and weird all day. I had a bit of a cold too. I skied again, but then I had to take the fifth day off. I put it all down to the altitude and generally sleeping badly. I felt better the sixth morning, which was our final day, and actually went out by myself and skied the steeps. (Skied may be a strong word.) By then Jackie was also feeling lousy, and she continued to feel lousy when we were back home.

It’s Covid, she said. I didn’t think so, and but I got her a test.

She was right, of course.

So I tested myself too, not that it mattered.

Turns out I can get Covid after all.

So that’s my Omicron story: at 10,000-12,000 feet, it stopped me from skiing for a day and a half. I would never have known if I hadn’t tested. I’d thank the mRNAs, but since I’m not vaccinated (and now have even more reason never to be), that would be tough.

Quelle plague.

I’ll let you know how the long Covid goes.