They’ll Do the Worrying for You

In the beginning of the pandemic it was a lot of make-it-up-as-we-go. Spain was reeling. Not enough tests. No tracking and tracing infrastructure. If you got sick, really sick, in Spain you called an ambulance or your family took you to emergency, or you died. Not so anymore.

I’ve been sick this time with Covid in ever increasing waves. Just when I think I am better it crashes again. I can feel it coming on. I was texting Jeff yesterday but I had to sign off, ‘I need to go. Its coming.’ Yesterday in a trough, I vacuumed the living room rug. Only to have to lay down afterwards for three hours.

Since Saturday, I have been largely living off popsicles and water. On the way back to the car from buying Covid tests at the farmacia on Saturday, I stopped at the Dia supermercado in Melide and bought four boxes of popsicles. Saturday seems like a week ago. Clearly ill, the woman behind the register insisted I use a card. She didn’t want to touch the €20 note I held out. When I arrived home I took three boxes of popsicles to the freezer in the barn. And deposited the contents of the remaining box in the freezer in the house. But they are gone now. So I was going to go out to the barn to replenish, but first had to sit down on the sofa for a rest. Then I thought ‘Screw it, I don’t need popsicles that bad’ and laid down on the sofa with a throw to sleep for a few hours. All this before making the long journey back up to bed to sleep, yet again.

This morning at 5am I thought I was much better. I even told Jeff in the US. It was only 8pm yesterday there. But by 10am, the next wave had hit. I was sicker than before, so I drove myself to Palas to my Dra. I love Dra Jennifer. She is awesome. She said it was good I came. A fever for more than two days needs attention. Gobs of meds later and a daily treatment check-in plan, since I am alone, I am home and ready to get better. The farmacia in Palas cleared out upon my utterance of ‘Tengo Covid.’ No other patrons were allowed in. The other, older farmacists left to the back. A young woman attended me and gave me all the instructions on the seven prescriptions I have. It all cost a whopping €20.

Now that I’m home, please lord, let the phone stop wringing to check on my condition by the national health service. To instruct me on the protocols and my obligations by law to only leave my house to perform urgent health functions for the ten days after I have tested positive, quarantined household family members, and kept close contacts informed. I just told a guy who called from Pontevedra that I have no household family members during this. He sounded horrified.

‘You are alone?’ I said that I am. ‘But you don’t sound well.’

‘Well, I do have Covid.’ I reminded him. Since that’s why we were speaking in the first place.

This is so against anything normal in Spain. No one here is alone from birth. Its unbelievable. I think that got my box checked on my records to keep checking on me. My phone rings again with another person telling me the same things. Usually it takes two calls. The first in Spanish. Then they realize my healthcare lingo is ingles and someone calls back, again. I’m not saying it’s not nice to talk to someone. But I need to sleep. I’m afraid not to answer or I’ll have a masked up Guardia Civil pounding at my door making sure I haven’t kicked the bucket.

In the midst of all this hullabaloo, my food truck guy in Barcelona sends me pictures while I’m in the Dra office, of my almost completed food truck. And has just a few more questions. It seems I have a bright spot on the horizon to look forward to. Our contractor, Diego, is recovered from his dance with Covid and is continuing his work. He assured me today that they are moving forward. All this calls for a celebratory popsicle. Where are the champagne flavored ones when you need one? Now there’s a business idea. Great for summer weddings or baby showers or christenings. But wait! The kitchen freezer is still bare. On second thought, I don’t need a popsicles that bad, right now. Perhaps after a little nap.

Anyway, if you get Covid in Spain now, they got you covered. You don’t have to worry about yourself because the national health service will do all the worrying for you. Knowing this, I feel better already.