"I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. Hug around the neck and a barel and a heap. A barrel and a heap and I'm talking in my sleep about you. About you."
Erika whispers into my hair as I slowly dose off and on to sleep. I feel her arms wrap around my already over fevered body. My limbs sweaty and clammy to the touch from the virus.
If it wasn't for my sister Erika and my best friend Megan I'd be a goner. The chills that rake my body constantly and the coughing until I'm physically sick has become my new normal for the last week.
When the chills hit a blanket is immediately available. If the fever spikes it's tentatively taken away. I'm not lucid enough to come fully to but I can feel the movements.
They say "two weeks" of this awful mess and I'm already fucking done with it. The world was plagued with this damn Corona Virus or Covid 19 or as I like to call it the god damned plague of 2019. I'm amongst one of the unlucky millions to contract it.
For most its just a cold or you get nothing. While others get very sick and some die. Well I'm not going to say I'm any of the last two, but I am quite sick and miserable.
Instead of being in the hospital my girls kept me locked up in my room with the best care. Not by choice mins you, but seeing how they've been in contact with me and have now been exposed they have to quarantine too.
That doesn't stop them from getting close to me no matter how much I beg and plead in my groggy state. The worse I get the more they hover over me like a fly.
Honestly, I'm so appreciative of this care even though I can't express it yet. My conversations are short and weak to say the least. I can't make my drugged out brain configure words.
Your probably wondering how my stupid ass contracted this ungodful virus. Or maybe your not. It's simple really. I'm just a normal person who lives her life thinking I'm "untouchable" like many others about this issue.
But I'll have to start from the beginning, is it interesting? Probably not? Is it key to this whole god forsaken situation? Why yes, James, yes it is.
You might think my life is pretty great, but I've grown up with an alcoholic mother, and a deadbeat stepfather who smells of BO and can't keep his hands to himself.
My story isn't one of luxury. So here it is. Let the shit show prevail.
