A birthday run that never was

A birthday run that never was

If there is a time that I thought I had COVID, and specifically Omicron variant, then that time was last week Friday.  COVID due to the symptoms and that particular variant due to the fast progression of the symptoms.  I had started feeling the signs of a common cold on the Thursday but had not taken any second thought of it.  However, on Friday the symptoms had multiplied ten times in less than a 24-hour cycle.  My throat was sore, and my body was weak.  However, I was not having a running nose nor a fever – just the urge to clear the throat and feeling tired for no reason.

Had it not been for the evening meeting that I had no power to cancel, I would surely have taken an early break and taken a bedrest.  I nonetheless persevered through the evening meeting that was to run from six to seven on that Friday and was glad when it eventually came to an end.  I had struggled to stay online and pretended to concentrate, but my body was telling me otherwise.  I needed a rest.

I was still contemplating on how to drag myself home when the meeting ends when there was a knock on the office door.  I suspected that it must be the sentry checking on who was still in office to alert them to lock-up the block as they leave.  I was however getting irritated.  I think that people get unnecessarily irritated when they need a rest.  I had previously told the guard that he did not need to keep reminding me to lock up.  I would do that automatically if I was the last person leaving.  I therefore did not know why he was still insisting on reminding me.

“Come in,” I said and continued conversing with the computer screen, counting the last fifteen-minutes of the evening meeting.  I could not wait to get it done with.

The door remained closed.

Another knock.

“Come right in!,” I raised my voice.  I was not going to answer that door in case nothing happens after this.

The door creaked open.  I was still concentrating on the screen.  I expected the guy.

“Happy birthday!,” I voice shouted from the now opened door.

“Happy what?,” I reacted, slowly turning my gaze from screen to door.

“Daktari, what did you say?,” I heard a participant on the Google Meet event ask.  I had already cautioned that participant that I was not yet a Daktari but he refused to live in the now.  He lived in the ‘by faith’.  I had told him that the ‘Doc’ thing would be happening next year, but I was manifesting it now.

I had to mute the online meeting first, to absorb what was going on.  Into the room matched in the young runner, Atieno, with a big white box at hand.  She proceeded to lay it on the desktop.  That box did not need any imagination to figure out the content.  She laid a Club soda besides it, the two-litre version.

“Have a seat while I get this meeting done with,” I motioned.

The meeting was done by seven.  I was back to the reality of the situation.  It was December 17.  

“You know it is your birthday, right?,” the architect in training said once I had closed the online meeting.

“Oh, how can I forget,” I lied.

I did not know that adults still had birthdays.  I have associated birthdays with the young ones and any other person.  I was still wondering how this birthday event even came about.  Unfortunately, my body was still weak and my throat could not partake of that soda, nor did I have an appetite for food, leave alone cake.  This birthday would have to be postponed.  I just needed a rest.

I tossed and turned and tossed and turned on that night.  I had a fever.  Covering up with three blankets did not even work.  I still shivered and felt cold.  I feared that I had been infected with the corona virus, though when I woke up to reality of the Saturday morning, I was a bit better.  The chills had gone, and the sore throat had gone down.  My remedy had just been hot water laced with lemon, masala and honey.  It seemed to have worked.

But I still had some last minute COVID jitters to contend with….

“I am not reporting for duty.  I have a bad cold.  I suspect I have COVID.  I am going for a test today.”

That short text beeped on my phone at around eleven on Saturday.  A colleague who was to be on duty on this Saturday was cancelling.  We had discussed so many projects the previous day in the small office.  If she was suspecting that she was having the corona virus, then…..

Anyway, I kept getting better, masala and honey at hand, and was surely back to normal by Sunday.  My method of recovery has always been to identify the onset of the flu before it hits, and then take it down with some honey.  This modus operandi enabled me to have less than two-days of downtime whenever the flu hits.  That works for me but maybe not for others, since that young runner would report a flu of her own two days after that birthday surprise and be forced to seek medication in her case, incurring a bill of over 10k.

So, was it COVID?  The Omicron variant of COVID?  The very COVID that has now infected 276,724,130 people with 5,388,439 deaths globally*.  Kenyan numbers are 267,571 and 5,354 respectively.  Could it be the one?  Did that double-jab of Astra-Zeneca vaccine contribute to my low downtime or I was just having a normal flu?

*source: worldometers

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 22, 2021