I got Covid.
I’m not the first.
I’ve had some company doing that. According to the CDC 38,455,144 of my fellow Americans have contracted Covid since the pandemic began. Even the president of the United States and several United States senators have gotten Covid.
One of the first to be fully vaccinated.
I was one of the very first Californians, all the way back in January 2021 to get vaccinated. I was fully vaccinated with the Moderna vaccine.
When someone has been fully vaccinated and gets Covid after their vaccinations it’s called a “breakthrough” case. A news story just this week said,
Well below 1%…oh my.
“Covid-19 vaccines are very effective against preventing infection, but no vaccine is 100% effective. Fully vaccinated people can and do become infected. It’s not known exactly how many of these breakthrough infections are occurring, as the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is not collecting national data this comprehensive. Based on reports from 25 states that do keep track of these data, the Kaiser Family Foundation estimates that the rate of breakthrough infections is well below 1%.”
I guess I’m just lucky!
The backstory.
Permit me to take a moment to explain how all of this came down for me. You probably know that early on I decided that I was not going to “fight Covid from my living room” for a year or more. I don’t really approach life that way but I’m not judging others who do. My new best saying that I made up myself is, “If you’re not in the game, other people will score the goals”.
Back on March 11, 2020 (about 17 months ago) I landed at 10 p.m. at the Los Angeles International Airport on a flight from Stockholm, Sweden. I had been in Sweden for a week traveling all over the country. During that time, I hadn’t heard a single word about Covid. But then I don’t understand Swedish either.
When I landed late at night at LAX, I was told our flight from Europe was the last flight being allowed to land in California without the new restrictions which were going to dramatically prohibit international travel. Again, I guess I was just lucky.
Like everyone else, I was apprehensive/scared.
I decided to take 12 weeks off from traveling after that trip to Sweden. I was a little freaked out about Covid-19 just like everyone else. Plus, all of the racing that I might have liked to have seen was canceled. With nothing happening “on the other side of the mountain” I didn’t mind staying at home.
The big decision.
In early June 2020 (14 months ago) I made a major decision that would dramatically influence my enjoyment of life for the next year. I decided that I could wash my hands, social distance, wear a mask and utilize the high-tech filtration systems of our nation’s airlines to hold off Covid. I began to travel.
From June 2020 through December 2020 (7 months), I traveled away from home for 72 nights. Then I heard that vaccines were on the way. I figured if I had made it this far without any trouble, I could take some time away from travel until I was vaccinated. I took five weeks off.
Then in early February 2021 (six months ago) I started traveling again and didn’t stop. From February 6, 2021, through August 16, the day my Covid symptoms began I traveled overnight away from home another 86 nights.
158 nights since Covid began. Anybody?
In total since Covid began in March 2020, I have traveled 158 nights. I would love to hear if any of the hundreds of people reading this newsletter know of a single individual who traveled overnight that much since the beginning of Covid. Anybody?
Symptom onset.
On Monday, August 16, 2021, I went down to the beach in the morning to do my normal 4-mile power walk. It was a little hotter and a little more humid than usual. When I returned home, I didn’t feel all that well. I felt the onset of a summer cold.
Over the next couple of days, I would experience first a stuffy nose and then a runny nose and some uncommon bouts of sneezing. Normally I will sneeze a maximum of two times. I had one episode of sneezing five consecutive times. That was most unusual.
Later my research (above) would tell me that the Delta variant creates symptoms of stuffy nose, runny nose and sneezing among other things.
Why do I travel?
Lots of people say to me, “You live in such a beautiful spot. Why do you ever leave it?” It’s true. I live in what one could argue is the best place in the United States and possibly the world for climate and lots of other things. Our average high temperature ranges from 67-77° in each of the 12 months. We don’t have any bugs. We don’t get tornados or hurricanes. We have low humidity and very little rainfall, maybe 10 inches a year at the most.
The area I live in doesn’t have any serious crime. We have one ethnic restaurant after another up and down the street so fine dining is available everywhere. We have lots of superchargers available for my Tesla. I think California has the best roads in the country. We even have low taxes. Last year I didn’t pay a penny of state income tax and our real estate taxes are some of the lowest in the country. I know. This isn’t exactly what you hear from some media sources. But I live here and have no reason to mislead you.
Once a Midwesterner…always a Midwesterner?
Despite living in such a nice place, I really enjoy travel. I’m from the Midwest. At this point in life, I wouldn’t want to live in the Midwest but I enjoy visiting there for a couple of days here and there and on a frequent basis.
I mentioned that my symptoms first began on Monday, August 16. It’s important to note that at the time I didn’t know these were Covid symptoms. I really thought I just had a summer cold. People who are vaccinated don’t get Covid, right?
Where did I catch Covid?
I don’t know for sure. The weekend before my symptoms began I was in Oregon. My symptoms showed up on Monday. On the Friday before I was at a county fair in Tillamook, Oregon. The next night I sat 2-3 seats away from a guy in a grandstand. We talked for two hours. He had a heavy cough. Maybe I got it here. I don’t know.
Summer colds are a hassle.
You probably know how big of a pain in the butt it is to have a summer cold if you’re going to be traveling to an area where the temperature is 95° with matching humidity. That’s never good.
I had a fun trip planned.
The weekend trip I had following the onset of my symptoms was going to take me first to the Illinois State Fairgrounds to visit the state fair and then up to northern Michigan to catch a race in a small town called, Alpena. From Alpena I would make my way down to Mexico, San Luis Potosi to be exact. I would be down there from Saturday through Monday. It was the perfect little 5-night trip with a heavy dose of logistics. The trip offered up a little bit of everything.
When one flies from Mexico to the U.S., the traveler is required to have a negative Covid test three days or less from the day they return to the U.S. Somewhat surprisingly if I were making a land crossing from Mexico into the United States, I would not need a Covid test at all. Nope. I don’t make the rules.
Somewhere along the line, I would need a Covid test.
My plan had me coming back from Mexico on a Monday. That meant that I could get a Covid test as early as Friday or any time before my Monday flight proving that I didn’t have Covid.
On Wednesday night, I wasn’t feeling all that well but not really that different than many times I have hopped on an airplane. I flew overnight from Los Angeles to Indianapolis. At 5 a.m. I rented a car and drove from Indianapolis to Springfield, Illinois. This four-hour drive, with a couple of rest area aided sleep hours, put me at the Illinois State Fairgrounds before noon.
I am very nostalgic.
What was so special about this particular state fair? I’m from Illinois. When I was a young boy, my grandparents would take my sister and me to the state fair. We didn’t have much money. I remember that we would stay overnight in a huge canvas tent and sleep on army cots in those tents. I seemed to remember it cost $2 per night for adults to rent those tents. Of course, there was no air-conditioning inside the tents. Especially during the day in mid-August, the heat was damning.
My grandmother would take my sister and me to the harness races in the big grandstands at the Illinois State Fair. We would also tour the animal barns. It was a big treat to go down into “Happy Hollow” where the carnival rides were located. My favorite ride was the bumper cars. At night we would peek in and see the huge country music shows being performed. We didn’t have enough money for a ticket to the show but we could at least get a 10-second glimpse of what the rich people were seeing.
They say you can’t go back home but I was going to try.
For this trip, I simply wanted to replicate my boyhood experience. At the Illinois State Fair, I wanted to see the life-sized butter cow, eat one of the famous cream puffs and go to the harness races. On this particular day that was going to be a little bit challenging since I had flown overnight, driven a long distance and thought I had a summer cold on top of the stifling heat and humidity.
This was not planned. This was 100% random.
I parked just outside the fairgrounds. When I walked in, I happened to pass a large tent that advertised Covid testing. Passing that tent was 100% random. I did have a Covid test scheduled for the next day, Friday, in Detroit, Michigan. I had set that appointment so the Michigan test would qualify to get me back home from Mexico next Monday.
Today was Thursday so a Covid test taken today would not help me with my flight back to the United States from Mexico next Monday. In order to make that work I had to get a Covid test three days in advance or less and getting a test at the state fair was actually four days before the Mexican departure back home.
Nevertheless, because I had the time I stopped and went into the tent. There was no charge for the Covid test. They could give me one right away. They would actually give me two tests. One would provide results in 15 minutes and the other in three days. I took the tests.
What were the odds? The odds were long!
Even though I had been vaccinated and a breakthrough Covid result is very rare, somehow, I suspected that I might actually have Covid. This was not an unusual suspicion for me. When I flew to Sweden, some 18 months ago, I was sick enough to take some Nyquil in Los Angeles and not wake up until I landed in Europe. Later I took an antibodies test which revealed I did not have Covid on that flight to Sweden. I commonly think I have this or that wrong with me and, knock on wood, I haven’t had any problems up to this point. I guess I just enjoy taking medical tests!
What if?
At the fair, I suspected strongly enough that I might have Covid that I asked the woman giving the test a question. I asked, “If I test positive in 15 minutes can I still go to the fair?”. She said that would not be a good idea but because the fair was a public space, they couldn’t deny me.
I thanked her and told her that I would come back in 15 minutes…or so…to check out my results. I thought to myself. “Randy, you’ve flown overnight from Los Angeles to Indianapolis. You’ve driven four hours from Indianapolis to Springfield, Illinois and slept for a couple of hours in a highway rest area. It’s a hot and humid day. You’ve come back here for one reason…to replicate a boyhood experience. When might you get this opportunity again?”
I went for the life-sized butter cow.
I processed all of that and made an executive decision. I went to the fair. I saw the life-sized butter cow. I had one of those huge cream puffs and debated on having a second one. I went to the harness races where I didn’t cash a winning ticket all day. I ate a corn dog slathered in mustard. I stopped at a horse show and saw some piglets that were born in the last few days. I had the full state fair experience despite not feeling well. I traipsed more than 5 miles through the horrendous weather conditions and had as much fun as I could.
I might just add this. When I look at a life-sized butter cow that I haven’t seen since I was a boy that’s a big deal. To some, that situation would not be a big deal. How many hundreds/thousands of dollars did it cost me to see that cow? Who cares? I wanted to see the damn cow.
The next three minutes would determine my near-term fate.
As I walked back to my car, I stopped at the Covid testing tent. I kind of knew how this might turn out but I wasn’t sure. I gave them my name. They reached into the files and handed me the bad news. My 15-minute results Covid report had a huge red stamp that simply said: “detected”. The woman who gave me my results recommended I go home and quarantine for the next 10 days from the onset of my symptoms.
I would follow the CDC’s quarantine recommendations the best I could.
From there I did what I had been told. I did my version of “self-quarantining”. At the time of my Covid tests, I was on day #4 of what I now knew were Covid symptoms.
The CDC recommends (above) 10 days of quarantine from the onset of symptoms not when you got a positive test result. I found a safe place and hung out for the next six days. I slept a lot. I also did a four-mile or greater walk on all mornings but one safely distanced from anyone else and wearing a mask at the urging of our children.
I felt fine…at least pretty fine.
I really wasn’t feeling all that bad. I didn’t want to run a marathon but then normally I don’t want to run a marathon. My symptoms of a stuffy nose, runny nose and sneezing were rapidly diminishing. By Saturday and Sunday (day #6 and #7) I didn’t really have any symptoms except some level of fatigue.
All during my self-quarantine period, I was using my six-series Apple watch to monitor my blood oxygen level. Low oxygen levels are the first thing that can land you in a hospital from Covid. My blood oxygen levels were consistently averaging 97-98% and more so I knew I was good to go on that front.
I need to make one thing crystal clear.
We need to be very clear on one important item. I am not making light of Covid in any way. You should know that I believe in the severity of the Covid pandemic. I am not one of those people who tries to diminish or discount the Covid death total. I believe in masks. I believe in social distancing and I believe in washing my hands.
Net, I don’t believe in conspiracy theories. Nevertheless here’s a key point…people who DO believe in conspiracy theories don’t believe what they believe in is a conspiracy theory. This way everyone gets to believe in whatever they want to believe in even when some of those folks are out to lunch!
Does this surprise you?
I also learned during my research (above – all of this stuff is from the CDC) that a person is most contagious one to two days before symptoms ever show up from Covid. That makes it pretty difficult to try to protect others when you are most contagious before you even know you have Covid. Maybe that’s why Covid is as contagious as it is.
One of the benefits of having been fully vaccinated and then getting Covid is that the severity of the symptoms and outcome is decreased dramatically. As I have noted less than 1% of people who are fully vaccinated will get Covid. Then a fraction of the 1% of people who do get a breakthrough case of Covid will have it be so severe as to be hospitalized or die.
Happy. I was happy I had been vaccinated.
I was pretty happy when my 10 days of self-quarantine ended. I was feeling good. The CDC says that if you don’t have a fever and your symptoms have improved you don’t have to self-quarantine beyond 10 days of the onset of symptoms. You are safe to go out into the world even without getting a negative Covid test. That does sound a little iffy to me. Wouldn’t they at least expect you to get another test and come up with a negative result before mixing and matching with others?
I think I will still try to get that negative Covid test if I can find a test center easily. It would just provide additional peace of mind.
Will I get the third vaccine shot?
I’m reading that third shots sometimes called “booster shots” will be given to people eight months after they’ve had their first vaccines. I came down with a breakthrough case of Covid seven months after my first vaccination shot. Maybe the vaccination’s effectiveness was waning by the time Covid caught up with me.
When I am eligible for the third shot, you’ll find me generally trying to push old women out of the way and hoodwink others to look at their shoelaces while I step in front of them in line.
How can I go wrong if I’ve already been fully vaccinated, have the antibodies from having had Covid and then get a third shot? Wouldn’t that be bulletproof? Who knows? I thought I was bulletproof after I became fully vaccinated.
The best way to get more readers?
I’m always wanting as many people as possible who have signed up to read my newsletter. One of the most effective ways to do that is to offer up a catchy headline. This message is simply titled, “I got Covid”. I’m going to bet in advance that will generate a record amount of viewers and readers.
Anyway, that’s my story. I’m happy to report that I only missed one travel weekend because of the timing of all of this. Next week Carol and I will be off to New York City where we will be using our vaccination cards to get us into the city’s restaurants. This will be one of the first real benefits outside of fighting Covid itself for those who got vaccinated. I’m a big supporter of giving those who have been vaccinated special privileges compared to those who have not. It’s sort of like giving special perks to those who have acquired frequent flyer status. Again, that’s just me.
I don’t understand lots of personal behavior and I surely don’t understand why people would not get vaccinated.
One more thing. I feel bad for people who have elected not to be vaccinated. I know certain minorities believe their ancestors got a raw deal decades ago. I know certain political groups think of not getting a vaccine as a badge of honor. Sorry. I call “bullshit” on that.
Almost all of the people who are in the hospital right now and who have died of Covid in recent months are unvaccinated. I heard on the news this morning that unvaccinated people are 29 times more like to be hospitalized from Covid than those who have been vaccinated. Think of your family and your friends if you won’t think of yourself. Get vaccinated.
O.K., I don’t really care if people won’t do the really smart stuff with financial planning. People can choose to be poor or less well off than they could be. That’s their call. However, for the life of me, I don’t understand why people won’t get vaccinated…especially if it has one iota to do with politics. Get your friggin’ shot or I’m not coming to your funeral.
This is a true story. I was there to experience it.
That’s my story. It’s true. I was there to see it all. I saw the butter cow and ate the creampuff. I got the test with the big red stamp that said: “detected”. I’m happy to report it all worked out OK.
Randy Lewis
San Clemente, California