covid-19

Text reads: After the first COVID. Background contains the silhouette of a woman stretching to the one side in a triangle pose.

After the first COVID…

I’ve been a bit quiet since my fling with COVID in early August but I’m very much alive and kicking.

(You may have gleaned that my blog title is a reference to After the First Death, the Robert Cormier novel, which took its name from a Dylan Thomas poem called A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London. But neither of these things bear any relevance to anything I experienced or anything in this post – I’m just a pretentious weirdo who wants people to know I can read. 😄)

I had a mild case of COVID and kept working from home the entire time so I was one of the lucky ones. And in my household of four, only two of us tested positive.

But there was the fatigue. It could’ve been seasonal affective disorder, or low iron, or something else entirely… but I definitely felt like my energy levels sapped when I had COVID and for a few weeks after that. Or maybe I just don’t get enough sleep. According to Fitbit’s Sleep Profile, I’m a Giraffe, which means my sleep tends to be on the shorter side… like my height, which is most definitely not giraffe-like.

One thing I’ve been trying to do since I recovered is to start getting up early and working out before heading to the office. It hasn’t been daily but I do generally feel better on the days when I make the effort. More energy, less mid-afternoon slump. The early start goes against my nature but I’m trying to retrain my brain… and body, I guess!

Any tips for turning a night owl into an early bird would be much appreciated. 😛

Text reads: COVID got me. Background contains close-up of a coronavirus.

COVID got me…

It finally got me, y’all. After 2.5 years, I’m COVID-positive.

It happened in a fairly predictable way.

On Sunday, I became a household close contact.

I tested negative with a rapid antigen test on Sunday and Monday, and remained asymptomatic both days.

This morning – Tuesday – I woke up with a sore throat. Took another RAT and the two lines came up almost immediately.

My household’s Patient Zero was very apologetic but I’m all good. It’s only my first day, of course. But so far I’m just getting typical cold-like symptoms. My nose is alternating between runny and blocked. I have a bit of a cough but nothing I’d describe as “spicy” yet. No sneezing though, apart from when the test swab was up my nose. No fever as of right now.

I’m triple-vaxxed, physically healthy, and brimming with privilege, so I’m confident I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s always been other people I was most concerned about in this pandemic (and still am).

I was able to work from home today (by choice – my employer didn’t coerce me and if yours does, they’re garbage). I’m pretty tired now, which is probably the COVID… but to be fair, I also spent about an hour informing all the relevant people this morning, which is an awful lot of communication that early in the day. 😄

Anyway, long story short, I’m no longer a COVID-free unicorn… but I’m definitely one of the lucky ones in the world. 🙂

Text reads: On the road again. Background contains someone wheeling a trolley bag.

On the road again

I was a bit quiet beforehand because I didn’t want to jinx it, but earlier this month I travelled out of WA for the first time in two-and-a-half years and returned without incident. 😀

I got to catch up with family and friends in Sydney and despite it raining most of the time I was there, it was great.

Oh, and my hotel came with a lightsaber! Okay, it was a torch/flashlight, but everything vaguely cylindrical is a lightsaber if you put your mind to it. Here’s a demo — I’m not very active on TikTok, so this will probably remain my most viewed TikTok video for the foreseeable future. 😛

@leeannkhoh

Found a torch/flashlight/lightsaber in my hotel room… 🔦😄 #StarWars #StarWarsFan #GeekingOut #Lightsaber #Jedi #Nerdtok

♬ original sound – Lee-Ann Khoh
Video “when you find a torch in your hotel room…” shows Lee-Ann taking a torch mounted in the closet of her room. She swings it around in both hands, making lightsaber noises under her breath before returning it to its original position and laughing.

I’m pretty anxious at the best of times and was nervous before I left, but surprisingly, I wasn’t really stressed during the trip. Between booking it and actually going, most travel restrictions were lifted so I guess I didn’t have to worry about accidentally doing something wrong.

I also wore a mask wherever I went, even though I didn’t have to. The Airinum Lite Air masks I opted for in Sydney are definitely on the pricier side, but my glasses didn’t fog up once while I was away, so that’s always a plus. And Airinum recently sent me a referral link, so you can use it if you want to check them out: Get 25% off Airinum masks

But the point of this post wasn’t to advertise masks. It was to muse about how I’ve dipped my toe back in the travel waters and… it went well! I came, I saw, I didn’t get COVID (yet). My passport expired during the pandemic and I’m not planning any around-the-world vacations at this point in time. But interstate trips might be on the cards again.

Truth be told, I actually hate travelling (the getting there part, yuck)… but I do like having travelled. 🙂

Text reads: All the changing seasons of my life. Background contains a row of different coloured daffodils.

All the changing seasons of my life

A lot has happened since my last blog post, including Western Australia’s hard border coming down so maybe I’ll come sign your copies of my book soon. 😉 But I’ve also been doing plenty of thinking. About how the world has changed over the past couple of years. And how I’ve changed.

Recently, I was chatting to a friend in America who asked me what my current passions were.

“That’s a good question actually,” I said.

Before the pandemic, going out for me usually involved live music. (That part is one of the more autobiographical aspects of Black and Blue.) But the thing about live music is that it often takes place at a venue where alcoholic drinks are flowing and people have no concept of personal space.

So I’ve always had to weigh up on a case-by-case basis whether I want to see the band more than I loathe the unwanted touching and germy bathrooms. Now I also consider the risk of spreading illnesses to someone who might not be as healthy and okay as I am.

But as my American pal and I talked about the state of the world, the loss of two years, work-related stress, not being able to see friends and family or go to events… we realised that one of the saddest parts for us might be seeing the worst in people we used to like and respect. The casual ableism… the conspiracy theories and spreading of misinformation… comparing their self-inflicted plight to the Holocaust… etc.

I brought this up with another dear friend of mine, who I’ve known since we were six years old.

“Not gonna lie,” they said, “As a queer, disabled person, I’m no longer surprised when someone I liked turns out to be garbage.”

Word.

Anyway, all that reflection also got me thinking about my 15-year love-hate relationship with Facebook, which has gradually become a Rolodex spanning my entire existence on this planet. At this point in my life, I’d rather keep things focused on family and friends I have an actual emotional connection with. (And managing Facebook pages, which is the main reason I can’t just delete/deactivate my profile).

So far I’ve culled about 200 people from my friends list and I’m sure everyone will survive without an annual meaningless birthday message from me.

Meanwhile, there are plenty of other social media platforms and apps that anyone can use to keep in touch or keep tabs on me… some of which are owned by Facebook’s parent company, so those zuckers still have their claws in me regardless. 😛

PS. If you’re up for 10 minutes of awesomeness, here’s the music video for “Estranged” by Guns N’ Roses, which happens to be the song I lifted this blog title from.

Estranged – Guns N’ Roses
Text reads: The future is unwritten but this blog post isn't. Background contains a pair of gloved hands holding a vial and syringe.

The future is unwritten but this blog post isn’t

Pharmacist: “Are you okay with needles?”

Me, internally: Yes, I remember getting vaccinations at school and they would tell us to count to 10 to take our minds off what was happening, but I would literally watch needles go into all the kids’ arms as I was counting ’cause I’m a sadistic biatch like that.

Me out loud: “Uh, yeah, they’re all right.”

It’s okay, you don’t have to keep me away from your children. Though if you do, I’ll understand. 😜

Anyway, I got my COVID booster a week ago. (Moderna after two doses of the Pfizer vax — figured I’d hedge my bets. 😉) I’d planned to get my booster ahead of the reopening of the WA border — which was supposed to be February 5, but has now been delayed indefinitely. I guess I’m both sad and relieved about that.

Sad because it means people will be separated for even longer if they can’t get an exemption, with no knowledge of when that will change. And relieved because the “let it rip” approach to living with the virus disproportionately kills vulnerable members of the community.

Like I said in my last post, I don’t know what the right balance is. But neither do all the armchair epidemiologists who barely scraped through high school science. At least I know what I don’t know.

We’ve lived mostly mask-free in WA during the pandemic but I think they’re probably here to stay now. I don’t mind… they’re not the most comfortable things to wear, especially in summer, but I feel the same way about bras and I’ve been wearing those for most of my life.

In the not-too-distant future, I’m hopeful of flying away, staying somewhere well ventilated where I can chill bra-less, going out and buy supplies from fully stocked shelves (probably with a bra and mask on), and coming home to Perth without infecting anyone or forcing my family into isolation or quarantine. Whew!

But until then… we’ll always have these nutty blog posts. 😉