Reckoning with the Redux
Yep, I’ve got Covid again. Hello from a NYC bed.
As 2021 comes to a close and we barrel toward the inglorious two-year mark of this collective nightmare, I am forced to reckon with the furious resurgence of the virus — a microscopic new foe for this century that we must probably get used to having around pestering, attacking, intermittently inflaming. Not only has it returned to the city, with a fancy new name, but it has returned to my body. Almost a year later, to the day, I have Covid once again. The sequel. the revival. The redux. Hello from a bed in New York.
I have used this Medium space to write about the pandemic as a worldwide and historical event. I’ve written about it the political chaos that has arisen with it. And I’ve written from a personal perspective about both. Today, I want to record the actual experience of the virus in my body. Week to week, I delight in words, and well structure paragraphs, and in sentences that dawdle and wind their way across the page. I do hope my writing is always engaging. Not in a shocking way. But that it brings you joy. In some fashion. Or insight. Or perspective. Or wit. Or the experience of having a friend on the other side of your screen.
Today, though, is a chronicle. A record for the future. So that when the future version of us — and our friends — remind us that it…
