𝐍𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞. So— last week was a real ohmigosh time for me as Dutchie wasn’t feeling well for 2 days. We weren’t going out except for our regular food run every 2 weeks. The last one was previous day before he felt unwell— so there goes my suspicion.
Ohmigosh. Nothing could be wrong, right?! I am convinced I had been doing what any wife with OCD would do to protect her family— from washing produce and groceries with dishwashing soap to stripping naked in the laundry area upon our arrival from anywhere; I make sure every soul who enters the house wash their hands for 20 seconds (I have a timer) in our outdoor lababo blah-blah. The list goes on and on. 👀
In each excursion, I am like a dark shadow lurking behind him with my half liter alcohol spray, ready to spring an attack vs his sinful hands. 👹 My voice would be in his earlobes: “Don’t touch your face, don’t touch that thing…” 🤖 On seldom occasions that we go out to eat, I’d follow him to the WC and wait by the men’s room door. I know he always washes his hands when he goes there, but alcohol? Nah, I don’t think he likes it. Hence, the stalking.
Dutchie must have done something very annoying in his past life that he is getting this karma. 😂 But hey, I was such a pest to him for good reason. People we know have actually died of Covid19! So please, I told him, “you are welcome to be annoyed at me for this thankless task I imposed upon myself.” Believe me I take no pleasure in it. These times trained me to expect the worse and think ‘contingency’ when it’s time to take action.
So when Dutchie went under the weather, I played scenarios in my head. In the first instance fever erupts, I’ll call our family physician for urgent medical advise. Call a frat brod who has access to saliva tester to come over asap. Call my doc gf Eve, an expert in Covid19 contingency & risk reduction, for support. Overdose him with Vitamin C, D3, Zinc, Melatonin. Force-feed him with citrus fruits and 4 liters of lemon water daily. Gather guava, sambong, banaba, lemongrass leaves from the neighborhood and put him in an under-the-malong ‘suob’ (sauna-like) until his flesh turns pink-orange like a shrimp. Smoke the house with sage and palo-santo to drive sick spirits away!
Since Day 1 he complained of discomfort, I’d touch his forehead (a dozen times a day) for signs of fever, and sneak a quick pass of mentholated Dau Phat Linh right under his nose (a dozen times a day). Now he hates menthol scent. Each time I did that he’d throw a tantrum “what the—!” (Now who’s the mwean perswon heah!) At least I’m assured he isn’t losing his sense of smell although he obviously lost his sense of humor. 😛😊
My daughter Denise said; “Sobra ka naman, mama, para nagi-LBM lang, Covid agad!” (Yes, fellas. LBM nga. 🤭😷😁)
“Hmph. Daig ng suspetsosa ang maagap at masipag, anuh.”
On 3rd day he said with a wide grin, “See, I beat Covid! I never had fever!” But even after his declaration of wellness, I’d still ask him (a dozen times a day): “How’s your taste bud? Can you smell my baby cologne?”
Maybe he had enough crazy. One of dem days he hissed a Yesssss!!! He said: “You know how I know I do not have Covid?” I wonder, indeed. I looked at him with “Huh?”
: “It’s because I can smell your fart from across the room!”
Now, really, who is the meanie here?