Mick Jagger was right. You can't always get what you want

I agree with Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones on one thing: "You can't always get what you want."

This morning I was supposed to be landing at Boston Logan International Airport to meet my sisters, Becky and Judy, to join them for a much-anticipated sisters' vacation. But Mick was right.

My original flight was scheduled for September 12. But a week before my flight, I got quite sick with COVID, so I changed my flight and my vacation request at work. The sisters' vacay was a two-week trip. Instead of joining my sisters during the first week, I'd join them for the second week. I could hardly wait to see my sisters and spend time with them seeing historic Boston, including a hop-on-hop-off bus tour of the Freedom Trail. So much history! So many historic buildings! And many delicious meals and sister chats. I couldn't wait to spend time with both sisters, a rare treat. We'd planned the trip to celebrate Becky's retirement from teaching and both sister's birthdays. (My sisters share the same birthday. No, they are not twins. They are six years apart. I'm the middle sister.)

After Boston, we were going to see Cape Cod and Martha's Vineyard. We'd rented a cute Airbnb cottage near the beach at Mashpee on the Cape. Although I was disappointed to have to change my plans, I rested and counted the days until my new flight. Would I be COVID free and feel well enough to travel?

Last Friday, Day 12 of COVID, I finally tested negative! I was still exhausted, but my flight was leaving on Monday. I hadn't had the energy to do laundry in two weeks. I had to do my laundry so I could pack for my trip. Plus, I was wearing my last pair of clean underwear!

So I hauled a mountain of laundry to my sis Becky's house 25 miles away. It was a mistake. I pushed myself too hard physically. I missed a step on the walkway. I didn't fall, but my body was propelled forward and I landed--hard--on my right foot. 

 

I injured my back. I hobbled through the laundry task, my pain increasing with each step. Each movement. Hours later, driving the 30 minutes home was agony. I did my childbirth breathing to focus on the road and ease the pain. Arriving home after dark, I gingerly carried the lightest laundry basket with my clean pajamas and underwear into my apartment. Immediately I changed into pajamas and fell into bed. 

Over the weekend, I consulted by phone with my cousin, Donette, an experienced physical therapy assistant. She wondered if I'd injured my sacroiliac joint (or SI joint). The SI joint is the joint between the sacrum and the ilium bones of the pelvis, which are connected by strong ligaments. The sacrum supports the spine and is supported in turn by an ilium on each side. The joint is strong, supporting the entire weight of the upper body. At my cousin's advice, I spent all weekend lying flat in bed, alternating between ice and heat. Iboprefen. And rest. Monday morning, I made my first-ever chiropractic appointment. He confirmed that indeed, I'd injured my SI joint. He took x-rays. Thankfully, no broken bones. But my hard landing on my right foot had caused injury all along my right leg--from my calf, my knee, my pelvis, my hip and even my neck.

So instead of enjoying a Boston-Cape Cod vacation with my sisters, I'm lying flat, alternating ice and heat, and going to more chiropractic sessions. And I'm Zooming for work while flat on my back. And my camera off.

Mick, you were right! First COVID and now this! Definitely not what I wanted. 

I've lived long enough to realize that I can't change what happens to me. The only thing I can control is my attitude about what happens to me. So even in this, I'm embracing an attitude of gratitude. 

• No broken bones. 
• No surgery. 
• I'm COVID negative. 
• And I'll enjoy another sister trip sometime soon.

For those Stones fans, here's Mick singing my anthem.

My COVID week: Twice vaxxed, twice boosted, but still got really sick

 

COVID-19

COVID knocked me on my backside a week ago. I write this while propped up on the futon in my living room, It's where I've spent most of the daylight hours this past week. 

I got slammed hard--despite being twice vaxxed, twice boosted and one of the people still avoiding indoor gatherings, and masking at necessary indoor places, like the grocery store. 

Over Labor Day weekend, I visited my mom, age 88, and other family near Roseburg in southern Oregon. I came home with COVID. In fact, four of us in the family got COVID this week. Including Mom.

I took my first-ever at-home COVID test, and it was positive. Darn!

I missed out on my first full week back at my great job at Clark College. Thank goodness for an understanding supervisor, Chandra Chase, who stepped in and interviewed a student in my place! I'm grateful also for the paid sick leave I'd accumulated. 

I missed out on getting together with my daughter, Kate. We often get together on the weekends to hang out or have an adventure. Not this week.

I missed the opportunity to hear my author friend, Jane Kirkpatrick, talk about her new book, Beneath the Bending Skies at Powell's Books in Beaverton. 

I missed out on after-work walks on the trail with Clare as well as another hike in the Columbia River Gorge. 

I missed out on countless solo walks and bike rides along the trail and through the woods to pick the last blackberries, watch the herons.

I missed out on paddling my kayaks. 

I missed out on getting together for dinner and a game of Boggle or Scrabble with Holly and Charlie.

I missed sharing a picnic dinner with housemates Kathleen and Michael.

I missed a bike ride on the trail with Kathleen.

I missed attending the annual Vancouver Peace and Justice Fair in Esther Short Park.

I had to postpone my sisters' trip to Boston and Cape Cod.

Instead of participating in all of these wonderful things, I slept. Normally, I never sleep during the day and have difficulty sleeping at night. Not this week.

I also listened to an interesting novel via audiobook, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, courtesy of Fort Vancouver Regional Library.

I started watching a quirky, interesting South Korean TV show called Little Women, loosely based on Louisa May Alcott's novel by the same name. Strong female leads in a contemporary setting.  

I have so many dear ones looking after me. Kathleen brought me fresh-picked raspberries and Michael's bean soup. Clare, Holly and Charlie and my sis, Becky dropped off groceries on my front porch.

Slowly, I've improved.

Chills and fever are gone.

Body aches are gone.

Sneezing is gone, and I'm not coughing as much.

I still can't taste or smell food. (But did that stop me from eating a bar of excellent chocolate dipped into the peanut butter jar? No!)

I still have a headache, but it's no longer throbbing, just more like my constant background music.

I'm still very tired--but not thoroughly exhausted as I was. 

One friend asked me if I'd been able to write this week. Up until now, no. This blog post written on Sunday night is the first time I've had the band width to write. And this blog post is not great writing. Simply needed to get it down. I'm learning to say: "Good enough." 

I am slowly emerging from a foggy COVID brain. 

Mom and my other family members also have improved. We're on the mend. 

I'm grateful that if I had to get COVID, it was this more mild version, not the strain that was filling up hospital morgues in New York in June 2020. 

Today I accomplished these tasks:

1. Finished listening to my audiobook

2. Took a shower and washed my hair

3. Washed my dishes (I don't have a dishwasher, so it's a little more effort)

4. Checked in with Mom, my daughter, my siblings

5. I hadn't been outside in a week, so I spread a blanket in the yard and laid down for awhile. (yes, it's smoky, but I can't smell anything right now, so it was OK).

Tomorrow, it's back to work for me. (I'm still working remotely, so that's great!) Hoping I have the bandwidth to process info and write.

Eventually, after I've tested negative and feel well enough, I'm looking forward to rejoining life. 

This blog post is done. No more to say, except, do take care of yourself, dear ones. COVID is real. If you get COVID, self-isolate and don't spread it. Be kind to others.

I hope to be well enough to paddle my kayak soon!