COVID 2023: The Chicago Connection
On Saturday, May 27, Brenda flew home from Chicago after being there for a week-long business meeting. I drove down to pick her up from the airport. As I was waiting in the cell phone lot, I noticed that she wasn't "reading" any of my messages. I looked up her location, and it still showed her at O'Hare in Chicago. I made a decision I'd just go looking for her around 10 p.m. in Departures, but she ended up calling from her work phone.
As we drove back, I noticed Brenda was coughing and was hoarse. I didn't think much about it, since she'd been at an all-week meeting and had been biking around Lake Michigan. She also told a story about visiting the biggest Starbucks in the world so she could use the bathroom. She said she'd had some Chicago dogs, and they didn't agree with her stomach.
When we got home, she got out the Garrett Popcorn gifts she got, and we both munched on it while she showed me some pictures.
The next day, I was scheduled to go out to visit with and help my parents in Snoqualmie. On the way, my Ultra podcast stopped because I was getting a spam call. I ignored it. As I approached the Mercer Island tunnel, the same number called again. I answered, and I heard someone say something, although I couldn't understand. I figured out it was Brenda, who sounded terrible. She repeated: "I tested positive for COVID."
It was an "oh shit" moment on so many levels. First, Brenda and I had managed to avoid COVID for three years--mostly through masks (at first) but probably because we both worked at home until recently. Second, I remembered sharing all that popcorn with her. I remembered sleeping in the same bed. I distinctly remembered not kissing her because she was coughing so much. At one point, before she fell asleep the night before, she coughed in my face by accident.
I knew I was screwed.
I pulled off onto Mercer Island and called my Dad. I wasn't coming out due to COVID. We talked for a while. Then, I got back on I-90 and drove home.
I found Brenda in the bed texting with a nurse. She was wearing an N-95 mask. I put on a mask as well. She said she was trying to get Paxlovid (antiviral) due to some of her risk factors. As she talked to me, I was surprised how she could barely talk. I went off downstairs so she could quarantine. Our youngest son, Drew, was in his bedroom in his own quarantine. I'd been through this nearly a year earlier with my oldest son and his girlfriend, and I knew quarantining would test us all -- especially sharing one bathroom.
