For the last 4-5 days I have had Covid. I felt increasingly lethargic and creaky on Sunday. By Monday I woke up feeling 10 years older. I got tested, and turned out to be positive. I isolated, but still did not experience it as a big deal: with temperatures around 101 – 102, I was telling myself that on a scale of Flu 1-10 , I would grade it a 2. By Thursday morning I was starting to feel better, and was thinking, “That was it? That is what they shut down the world over? If I were still working a normal corporate job, I would not have missed a day’s work for this. I would have stayed home to keep from infecting others, but would have found no need to slip a stitch in my workload.”
Three hours later, Wednesday afternoon around 4 PM, my temperature spiked to 105. I was a hurting puppy. (I had a bit of inside information: years ago, while hospitalized with cancer, I had a 106 degree fever, and remember going delirious and being put in an empty bath covered with 100 pounds of ice cubes: later they told me that at 106-107 your brain starts cooking). A visiting nurse who had shown up in my home yesterday kept trying to get my attention about how bad shape I was in, but I was too sick and wasted to pay her much mind. Finally she said some magic words: “So are you saying that you are directing my company not to transport you to a hospital?”
Something about her legal formality cut though 105 degree fever. In any case, I got my ass in gear.
While normally my medical care is addressed in Mayo-Scottsdale, a handful of years ago I developed a second relationship with a cardiologist, one in Salt Lake City, so that if a medical emergency ever arose I would have that local relationship already established. (For those new to my story: my medical history is a long and sordid tale, which I can summaries with some stats: I have had 113 surgeries, and spent >800 nights in hospitals). I met with that SLC doctor a few times 3-5 years ago, and he even performed a cardioversion or two on me: that way in case of a real medical problem that did not permit me to make it to Mayo-Scottsdale (Arizona), I would have a back-up locally. To avoid exposing a driver, I drove myself 45 minutes to town. I reached out to that doctor and learned he had in the meantime moved to University of Utah Hospital. I called them and after some bureaucratic voicemail jail, I was told that his new employer, University of Utah, was not recognizing previous doctor-patient relationships that doctor had formed, and for this reason I would not be able to have such-and-such-treatment, but I could still apply for another treatment but not this and not that and fill out paperwork in triplicate and someone would see me in a tent but I would not be admitted, I could not be offered this treatment I could not be given this other thing…. Basically, all that effort made several years ago to form a relationship had been a waste. I tried explaining that they had treated me for a couple of things over the 20 years I lived in Utah and we already had a sparse relationship, but I was talking to a bureaucrat reading a script while driving down a canyon in the dusk with a 105 degree fever. And as a non-Mormon, it was not the first time that the University of Utah Hospital had made me feel like a second-class citizen.
Naturally enough, I sent a Good-for-a-Lifetime “Fuck You” to the University of Utah Hospital, and drove to another hospital: Salt Lake Valley Regional Hospital. A tiny hospital by modern standards, they had treated me once before some years ago, and I remember they had been fabulous, though for the life of me I cannot remember for what they treated me (one has spent too much time in hospitals when one can remember the qualities of a hospital but without remembering which shoulder separation, ripped bicep femorus, heart arythmia or broken arm put one there).
I arrived in the Emergency area, parked poorly, and they treated me like royalty. Within hours they had completed an assessment, decided that due to an extremely complicated medical history I was a prime, nay, obvious candidate for monoclonal antibody therapy. By 8 PM they were dripping it into me, by 10 PM I was out the door… and I woke up this morning feeling about 20 years younger, with a normal temperature.
What lesson may I share? There are those in the Freedom Movement who dismiss Covid as just a cold, a light flu, that was weaponized through information. It has been part of the psyop, I agree, but I must assure my readers: do not dismiss this as insignificant. After 3-4 days with it I would have been the first to say, “That was it? That was barely unpleasant.” But after it turned bad 24 hours ago, I was laying in the hospital bed thinking, “How will I convey to my readers how bad this is?”
I came up with a good way to convey it: Imagine having a flu that hit you so hard, you would begin realizing, “If I do not make it to a medical facility I may well die.” If I had been out in the middle of nowhere, the center of Alaska for example, when it turned bad, I would have been well and truly screwed. My vitals went kerflooey, my blood pressure dropped, I went grey, my renal system started cracking (creatinine of 2.4, for those following at home).
So how bad is it? The way to understand how bad it was is to ask you to imagine having a flu, and then having that flu get bad enough that, short of getting to an IV, you’ll probably die. Yes it is quite treatable now. Yes it has been weaponized by the Karen-segment of our society as part of a plan to impose a fascist takeover. But do not let that mislead you into thinking that this is a nothing-burger. You really don’t want to catch it.
Meanwhile, after my three or four days out of touch, I started seeing that I got cancelled on Twitter (which I take as a badge of honor: all the best people are). And I learned that there are imitators springing up on Twitter and Gab, claiming to be me. They are imposters. When I have a bit more strength I will go to having those accounts turned over to me if possible, or else cancelled.
You could do me a favor: I am going to start writing more here. Pease help me out by spreading my material yourselves, including Tweeting them from you own accounts (if like me you do not care about the wrath of half-educated pseudo-intellectual poser like Jack Dorsey).