We Will Make It Through This

The past 48 hours has been a bit of a ride. But it seems to have subsided.

It started for Jeff two days ago and came on like a freight train. In just a few hours he went from perfectly fine to sick as a dog, shivering and yet burning up. He ran a high fever all night Tuesday night. I was very concerned, staying up all night with him pumping paracetamol into him and checking his O2 level. It held at 92-93 for most of the night. By the morning his temp had gone down. And mine had started rising. I was about 12 hours behind him. I braced myself after flashing back to March and April of 2020. I never, ever want to go through that again. I don’t think either of our bodies could take it. I wondered if we should try to get a test but there are only tests available in Lugo or Santiago and neither of us were up for driving.

We switched places. Jeff did for me all day what I had done for him the night before. But sleeping is the best medicine and when I woke up today at noon I was a new person. Weird.

This was nothing like Covid before. And I read in the paper that the actual flu is making a strong come back. This seemed like a 24 hour flu. It hits you hard, then departs. We are both feeling much better. So much so that we went for a walk this afternoon. Two days ago that was unthinkable. I wanted to go because a storm is coming. We likely won’t leave the house for a few days.

It was sunny for some of it. I took some photos. Very friendly socially distanced hunters and their happy dogs in the neighborhood. I had a good pet and lots of licking of my hands.

Here is someone who didn’t like their boots. They are covered in sloppy glue keeping the soles on. Perhaps they learned that putting your wet boots in an industrial dryer in a town on the Camino isn’t a good idea. The glue keeping the sole to the upper doesn’t like dryer heat.

And finally, a little break to watch two sets of twins. Baby lambs. One set born last week. The other just this morning. We waited and watched. The second lamb wasn’t getting up. The farmer and his wife were out watching too. Not intervening because if they did, it is possible the mother would reject the lamb. The baby finally got up and found her mama. All is well.

Jeff and I have much to be grateful for this Christmas. Not the least of which is our health. And our ability to fight off whatever that bug was. We are warm and dry on the farm with Señor Sir. The three of us are on the mend. I know it seems dark in the world right now. Contagion is raging. And political uncertainty abounds. But we just passed the winter solstice. The darkest moment of our year in the Northern Hemisphere. And I like to believe that it will only get brighter from here – both literally and figuratively. Watching those little lambs today are a symbol of hope to me. We are like the littlest one. Our legs might be wobbly and it will require all our strength to stand. But we will do it. And we can greet this new year knowing that with perseverance we will make it through. And thrive.