... and then my mom got covid.

"So my test came back positive. I've got covid."

"What?!?" I must have yelled into the phone at work. My mom's been uncharacteristically fatigued for a week, normally being an 85-year-old senior with the energy of a mid-50s woman, but her symptoms had included no respiratory difficulties nor cough, so I chalked it up to some less pressing flu/cold condition, but apparently Doctor Guillermo was wrong.

"Now, I left a message with my doctor, who's supposed to call me back, but no matter what he says, I'm not going to a hospital."

"Um, you might consider that he's a doctor, but still it's not like your organs are painfully ceasing function and your breathing's entirely okay. Which if that changes you should go to a hospital since that would be the kiss of death."

"No, I won't. If I die, I die."

"Well, I'm glad your affairs are in order. I'll miss you, even if you won't miss you." My sarcasm was angry at her self-disregard, and probably not the best approach, but when emotionally blindsided by potential loss it tends to be my reflexive default. I miss my father, and I'm not ready to lose the parent I have left.

"I won't go to a hospital."

"Mom, you're old enough to know that sometimes what you desire and what you require are by necessity different things. And if you actually haven't learned that, you know what? If I think you need to go to a hospital, I'll fucking tie you up, throw you in the car, and take you to a hospital, because I love you."

After this conversation of forcefully imperative parental love ended, I left work and drove to two different places to get myself tested and neither took walk-ins any longer, so I still don't know if my exposure during my four visits to her last week has given me covid, or maybe an irresponsible custie at my non-essential workplace that shouldn't be open anyhow gave it to me which then got to her, or she got it while going to one grocery store too many for a nickel's savings on produce. I don't know, I'll probably never know exactly, but my test's on Friday, and I'll likely get results on Monday.

In the meantime, my Mom's felt gradually better during the last 72 hours, so I suspect she'll be okay sooner than later, and I won't have to make good on my caretaking abduction threat. But I will if I have to.

[my parents being loving enough to take me to the emergency room in the middle of the night a few years ago. Yes, this is my POV from the ICU gurney.]

#   #   #

While a mostly happy bookstore fixture for over two decades, Guillermo Maytorena IV is currently willing to entertain your serious proposals for employment as a literary/cinema critic, goth journalist, castellan, airship pilot/crewperson, investigative mythologist, or assisting in a craft brewery. Should you be connected to any of the above or equally interesting endeavours, do contact him.