Achoo! ... Gesundheit.

I got sick last week. The first thought that ran through my head concerned worries over COVID-19. Do I get myself to the doctor right away? Do I take a wait-and-see approach? Really, this year has stoked panic and depressed common sense to unprecedented levels.

Yes, Virginia, there are diseases other than COVID-19.

I spent four days curled in the recliner--usually with a cat on my lap. I never spiked a fever. The lack of fever convinced me to take a wait-and-see approach, because I've been through many, many bouts of influenza, enough to have learned that a virus pretty much has to run its course. I'll be miserable for a while, but it will pass.

Personal history shows there's no reason to run for medical attention every time one gets a sniffle; but, current circumstances warrant a heightened level of caution.

Overall, the illness was mild. No fever (as stated earlier). Minor upper respiratory issues: runny nose, more sneezing than usual. (Hey, I live in a small house with seven cats and a Great Dane--there's enough pet dander floating about to trigger allergies in anything that breathes air.) Minor coughing. Body aches. Overwhelming fatigue. A queasy stomach. Constant headache, especially when looking at a computer screen. And I couldn't get warm.

My husband fired up the gas fireplace until the living room went from comfortable for normal people to sweltering. I still couldn't warm up. My hands and feet felt icy as I huddled under sweaters and blankets until I went to bed and curled up (with two or three cats) under extra blankets.

Going outside to check on the horses was an exercise in frigid misery and exhaustion. Just walking to and from the barn left me sweating and weary from the exertion.

I worried about that singular, defining trait of the 'rona, loss of taste and smell. My loss of appetite resulted in the consumption of bland food whenever I could be persuaded to eat. Oatmeal, you know, isn't known for its bold flavor. Also, living with the aforementioned menagerie in the house, I tend to be nose-blind to a lot of odors.

Lying in bed Friday night, that particular worry raced through my tired mind. As if in answer, the dog (lying on her mat beside the bed) let loose a distinctive, soft hiss. A couple of seconds later ... Oh, my God, that's rank! What the hell did you eat? There's one--just one--benefit to the coronavirus and I missed out.

Just to reinforce the certainty that my olfactory senses were intact, the stench emanating from the litter box the next day brought tears to my eyes. It's always bad news when a cat races through the house after a visit to the litter box, as though the cat itself cannot endure the smell it just produced and is doing its level best to escape the invisible cloud of stink following it.

Feeling more like a normal human being yesterday, I called my mother who's been extremely worried about the pandemic. At 80 years old, she has every right to be concerned. I let her know I'd been ill and gave her a graceful out by offering to stay home for Thanksgiving if my visiting would make her uncomfortable.

"Use your common sense," she replied. "If you're feeling under the weather, don't come."

"Well, if it was a really mild version of the 'rona, then I'll have the antibodies and be safer than anyone else there," I pointed out.

Today, I'm back in the office. With cats. I'm easily fatigued and listening to my stomach on the issue of when, what, and how much to eat. (Oatmeal again this morning.) But I'm slowing getting back into the swing of things.

So, what does this have to do with writing, editing, publishing, or freelancing? Not a thing, except perhaps as a reminder to take a break now and then. Our minds and bodies are not machines. And if you do take ill, allow yourself to rest and recover.

This, too, shall pass.

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