Today has been a rough day on numerous levels. Mike and I have not been feeling our greatest for a little while with what we first thought was sinus pressure from altitude changes. Then we thought we possibly had colds, and then we thought sinus infections. Mike was the first one to have trouble, and we were really having trouble figuring out what was happening. We both had different symptoms, so it was making it harder to figure out.
Nowhere in our thoughts did the “C” word even enter our thoughts. The moment I first felt unwell, I thought the pain in my sinus cavity was remarkably similar to the pain in my sinus when I came down with COVID in Montana while at a trial for work a few years back. But I didn’t give it more than a millisecond of attention, thinking it wasn’t even a possibility. Why I thought that I don’t know.
We decided that Mike should be seen at a clinic because he had a very rough night last night. Neither one of us slept hardly at all. We thought a visit to a clinic would be better in Alaska than in Canada, which is where we are heading.
While he went into the clinic, I stayed in the truck and tried to catch up on some pictures and the blog. The next thing I know, I heard a knock on the window. I looked, and this is what I saw.
I knew instantly that Mike had tested positive for COVID, and that she wanted to ram that lovely stick up my nostrils to see if I was positive as well. Off they went back into the clinic after the dirty deed was done. She reappered shortly thereafter with that same look on her face. I didn’t have to roll the window down. I knew. I was positive as well.
I instantly thought of the plane ride to Katmai National Park yesterday, and I felt badly that we were on that plane with eight other people, including the pilot and co-pilot. We truly didn’t realize that we were contagious and especially didn’t know that we had COVID. We really feel badly about that.
It now makes sense why I had such horrendous pain in my ears on landing and why Mike had equally bad pain in his head during the flights. I don’t normally have bad pain in my ears when flying. I still can’t hear properly out of my left ear, but I’m sure that will improve.
At the time I am writing this post, it is night time on July 18. We are currently in a hotel in Kenai. Back home, it is already the wee hours of the 19th. Mike has slept since we got here at lunch time (other than taking showers when he wakes up). Oddly, that is exactly what I did for DAYS when I had COVID in Montana. I am beginning to feel a bit better.
The other thing that happened today is that my children’s father passed away. It has been a rough couple of days since he had a major cardiac event. Even though we divorced years ago, he has remained a part of me, and I have always cared about him and how his life was going. At one time, we loved each other and shared children together. That doesn’t go away.
We had some rough years after the divorce, but we found our way to a peaceful existence and later, even into a bit of a friendship again.
I am thankful that when the hurricane hit Tallahassee earlier this year, my daughter and I were able to go and offer assistance to my son and his father. I smile when I think of the nice conversations we shared on the porch together as adult parent/friends, and even some of his humor about “our kids.” We had come a long way for sure. I am happy we had that little bit of time together not long before he was going to leave this realm.
Life is funny like that at times — giving you snippets of time that you don’t realize at the time are actually as big of a moment as they really are.
My heart is so sad this evening — for the loss of Mike Fields and for the pain my children are experiencing right now. Rest in peace, Mike. It’s really hard right now to believe you are no longer with us on this planet. Whenever I hear a harmonica, I will always think of you. You could sure play one, that’s for sure. Anyone who knew you knew that!
And with that, I am going to call it a day — because it truly has been one of the longest days ever.