Dodgeball: Extreme Sports Edition

 Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband tested positive for COVID this morning.

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It's not a surprise, really. He spent the past two weeks traveling, first to a three-and-a-half day conference, then to a three-day business meeting. All by plane, and in areas of this state where attitudes toward protections like mask-wearing are... minimal. It was only a matter of time.

So far, he doesn't feel too terrible. Scratchy throat, mostly. A bit of chills this afternoon. Nothing too bad. He's usually the picture of health, so it should go fine. 

I'm a little concerned the Offspring the Third may catch it, too. He never fares well when he encounters a virus.  Gallopingly ill, every time. He was one of the few children our pediatrician encountered who was sick enough with croup to require hospitalization. Every germ leaves him prone for days, weeks. Let us hope that the vaccine and booster he has gotten will protect him enough. We shall see. 

Now the question becomes: will I get it too?

I have spent the past two and a half years trying REALLY HARD not to catch COVID. Really hard. Like a long, slow, terrible game of COVID dodgeball. We're all tired from playing. 

I knew philosophically that it would only be a matter of time until I encountered it face-to-face. Yet it was almost a matter of pride, to have been lucky enough to avoid The Plague so far.

Pride goes before a fall.

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I'm vaccinated, and boosted. It will probably go fine.

I'm not going to think about what if it doesn't go fine right now. 

Let's focus on mentally willing Beloved Husband to recover quickly, and to protecting Offspring the Third. 

One day at a time.