Coronavirus Diary Day WTFK: January 4, 2022

Literally Everyone Has Covid, The Sun is Not Your Friend, and BTW Happy New Year

Welp, it’s 2022. And COVID-19 is still a thing. In case you don’t remember, the “19” is short for 2019. So, yeah.

Anyways, Happy New Year, my friends! You know what? It’s not that bad. After all, we’ve had nearly 2 years to adjust to our current situation. We all have stashes of masks (cloth, medical, washed, unwashed, borrowed, found, and otherwise) in our junk drawers, glove compartments, purse bottoms, and coat pockets. We’re proficient in all the various forms of virtual communication, meetings, and lovemaking. Social distancing has become an excellent excuse for not seeing people. And oh yeah, most of us are vaccinated.

The Delta Variant has a bad reputation, but babes, it’s got nothing on this mother fucking Omicron. I mean, if you’re vaccinated, Omicron doesn’t seem so scary (at least, not right now), but gotdam, it sure does get around! Literally, everyone *ev.er.y.one* has Covid. If they don’t have it right now, they had it last week. Or they will have it next week. Or they had it, and didn’t know it. Or they had it, and denied it.

Yesterday, over 1,000,000 people in America tested positive for COVID-19.

Regardless, if you’re vaccinated, it seems your chances of being hospitalized are very, extremely, ridiculously low. Maybe you’ll experience an annoying case of the cold, or maybe you’ll suffer awful flu-like symptoms, or maybe you won’t know you have it all.

With that in mind, there are those vaccinated folks who’ve been in the ICU, and some of them have died. Many have underlying conditions, but not all. A healthy young man in the Adirondacks died last week. He was under 40, fit, and expecting a child. He was also vaccinated. His is a story none of us wants to hear. It’s sad, frightening, and absolutely tragic. It’s also rare, thank goodness.

The testing protocols and processes are atrocious. It seems everyone either wants or needs a test. They came into contact with someone who might have had the virus. They have the sniffles. They are taking a trip. They are going back to school. They have a meeting in the office. They’re in bed with the flu. Whatever the reason, all the people are lining up for tests right now. At-home tests are difficult to find. PCR lab tests are taking days to process. Many are delivering the wrong results. I know someone who tested 3 times in 1 week. He got a negative, a positive, and a negative. He was at a party with friends who tested positive. He had no symptoms. This is confusing to me, and also, not unusual.

If I get sick, I’m not planning to test. I’ll just stay home until I feel better. That’s what I’ve done all the other times I’ve been sick throughout my lifetime. Of course, I recognize that I have the luxury to do that. And not everyone does.

Many people spent the holidays alone or in very small groups. Kinda like last year, I guess. But, what lies ahead for us, fellow humans? Hopefully, not some alien virus mutation that sends us down a dark, dismal path, but rather, a gradual decrease in infections as our species builds immunity and the virus quits. If you look at the trajectory of the Spanish Flu, we could be “back to normal” in a year or two. Let’s stay positive, and test negative. (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself there.)

On a personal note, I’m also here today to talk about skin cancer. Why’s that? you ask. Because I have it. And dammit, I wish I had avoided it. I certainly could have avoided it.

Specifically, I have AK (Actinic Keratosis) all over my face. AK is a somewhat serious pre-cancer, as it can eventually lead to more serious skin cancers, including basal cell carcinoma and melanoma. I’ve had AKs and basal cells removed from almost every part of my body over the last 20 years, including my face. I have plenty of scars to prove it. But this time, there are so many AKs on my face that to individually remove them would result in terrible, lifelong scarring. There’s also the chance we could miss some.

On January 1, I started a 2-week protocol of Flourourocil-5, known more widely by its brand name, Efudex. It’s a topical chemotherapy cream that I apply to my entire face 2x/day, in the morning and at night. I am currently on Day 4. I am developing some pink patches, as expected. By Day 6, these will become red patches. By Day 10, my face should look pretty fucked up. And my research shows that by Day 14, I will want to murder my dermatologist. On Day 15, my skin will begin to shed and regenerate. This will be an uncomfortable, itchy, disgusting, and painful process. Around February 1, I should start to heal. I’m hoping to look somewhat normal (or at least less terrifying) by Valentine’s Day. Until then, I’m hunkering down in my house, avoiding social interaction, covering my face with medical masks, and scouring the Internet for conspiracy theories. It’s a lot like March 2020.

But anyway, I’ll share my Efudex journey and the results in late-February, so be on the lookout for that (ou pas). In the meantime, please don’t sunbathe. Wear protective clothing and hats. And slather that sunscreen, even for things like hiking, skiing, walking the dog, riding in cars, and getting the mail. No, yeah. I’m serious.

Oh wait. One more thing: a question. Do you say Triple Vaccinated or Boosted?