It started when Kindra came home from work Friday with a hacking cough and feeling achy and tired.
She felt progressively worse through the night and decided she had a sinus infection or maybe a summer cold.
Since she works in food service and can’t be in the kitchen with symptoms like those, she called in sick for Saturday.
“I’ll take you to urgent care after noon,” I said, mentally figuring what time I’d get home from the cross country meet in Stroud. I needed to mow and work on the dogs’ pen afterward, but there would be plenty of time.
I got to Stroud and was getting ready for the meet, when I discovered that the lens I usually use for cross country photos wouldn’t focus. At all. Everything looked like I was wearing someone else’s glasses.
I use that lens a lot, which meant either replacing it or repairing it. I found a used one on eBay for about what repairs would cost, so I pulled the trigger. It’s supposed to be here in time for the Thursday football scrimmage.
I got home in plenty of time to take Kindra to the urgent care. There were surprisingly few people in the waiting room, so she was called back quickly.
Turns out, she didn’t have a sinus infection. Or a light cold.
It was COVID, her second case in two years. The protocol for quarantining these days is: 24 hours without a fever, you can go out in public.
I bought us an infrared thermometer and checked her temp and mine regularly. Hers graduallydroppedandminenevergotabove97.5 I’m a cool dude, it seems, and have the temperatures to prove it.
Come Sunday, I did a lot of chores around the house, and the last one was working on the dogs’ pen, which has an electric fence.
I was carrying a spool of heavy electrical wire and stepped wrong and - whoa! what is that pain in my lower back?
Why, it’s a pulled muscle, that’s what it is. I finished the fence, but was at Level 6 pain before I got done.
I have a history of lower back muscle pain dating to an unfortunate bull-riding incident when I was 18, and it gets worse as I get older.
Kindra had made an appointment on Monday morning to have Reno, our Siberian Husky, neutered.
Since she had COVID, my lower back and I would have to take Reno to the vet’s.
Reno thought he was going for a ride in the pickup, which was true in the strictest sense, and was highly excited.
A sore back and a sled dog eager to get in the pickup are not a good combination, but I did a lot of leaning backward and made it into the cab.
I started to back out and realized two things: a., I had forgotten to put on my glasses b., I had a warning light about low pressure in my right front tire.
So, I called Kindra and sheepishly asked if she would bring my glasses to me in the driveway and made mental plans to stop by the tire store on the way home.
They got my tire fixed quickly, and I asked the guy what was wrong with it.
“A screw,” he said, providing perhaps the perfect metaphor for the weekend.