I’m a little late to the party to start writing about the COVID-19 pandemic and it’s impact on life as we know it, but after the recent surreal experience of watching people overrun congress, it’s time.
When all this started it seemed to me like an overreaction, typical gen x’er, my attitude was basically that it would simply stop if I ignored it.
Even after IL issued a stay at home order, and our office converted to a virtual place, come late spring and summer it seemed like the worst was behind us. In August I started my delayed internship on a behavioural health unit to complete my social work masters degree.
My parents were frightened, but even at 48 I still believed I posed some type of super immunity. My big concern was bringing the virus to my mother who hasn’t been anywhere except chemotherapy and surgery since March 2020.
No surprise, I got Covid-19 for Thanksgiving and struggled with symptoms long after my quarantine period. Disturbingly, I learned that the hospital didn’t care If I worked while in my quarantine period as long as I wasn’t visibly sick.
