“Is headache a symptom?” She asked, not quite believing what I was suggesting.
After all, my 83 year old mother received her second Pfizer shot a month earlier. However, she’d had a bad headache unlike any she’d had before for four days, and she commented she’d been sleeping during the day too, much more than the occasional nap.
I thought she’d pulled something in her neck, but this morning I suddenly realized 94% means… oh, shit. I’m no ancient Greek mathematician but even I can figure out 94% means there’s still a chance…
A quick twirl through Dr Google revealed skin rashes and… “breakthrough COVID” which they’re tracking in Minnesota, having seen several cases, in Pfizer recipients more than two weeks after their second shot.
Off we go to the testing site, figuring since we’d all chowed down on cheese an crackers at the family zoom together the night before and the fact she’s part of our pod. If she has it, guess what we’re in for? Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Great. If this is COVID, the CDC is gonna grill her more than a Costco pack of burgers on the 4th of July.
So I did not realize one could shove something up your nose that high without actually puncturing your dura.
Then, after beloved and I started the registration process at urgent care, they told us my mom couldn’t get tested. Um… what? She’s the reason we’re here.
“Sorry. She has an HMO. We don’t take it.”
She has MEDICARE. The government pays for the tests.
“We don’t take it.”
So while we wait in the car for a modern day mummifier to dig brain cells outta our schnozzes, we search for somewhere to get her a test.
Her HMO’s first suggestion?
You got it. We’re sitting in their parking lot.
The alternative is the local CVS. Whatever, it’s not like I have to work. We make an appointment and head over.
And yes, we were all negative. But poor old Mummy’s still recovering from the neuralgia pain.