6 Min Read

What’s a guy to do when immoral influences comes a-knocking at his back door?

Oh, this tricky pickle is just too big to just ignore…


Editor’s note: you have found yourself in the thick of the epic, the one, the only, The Long Tale of COVID. If you need to catch up, you can find all the posts here. Enjoy!


“Give it to me straight, Doc,1Alex technically wasn’t a doctor… am I going to die?”

“So…your test came back positive…”

“OHHHH, LAWDY JESÚS, I AIN’T READY TO DIE YET! I AIN’T READY YET!”2Editor’s note: There might be some light embellishment with my reaction to my test results. Just maybe.

“Well…you’re not necessarily going to die. I mean, of course you’re going to die at some point. But there’s a good chance you won’t die from this.”

I slowly wiped away the tears that had been streaming down my face.

“Wha-wha-what do you mean?”

“So, this D-dimer test…remember, I told you already that not only will it come back positive if you have blood clots, but also if you have COVID,” Poor-Man’s-Doctor Alex attempted to reassure me.

Well, this Kevin Bacon-inspired Urgent Care visit was just going swimmingly, now wasn’t it?

“OHHHH, LAWDY JESÚS, I MIGHT HAVE COVID?!?” I wailed.

“Well, of course you have COVID, you idiot. That was the very first thing you said when you walked in our door, followed immediately by ‘I think I have blood clots.’ “

“Oh…right. So…um…what you’re saying is that we still can’t rule out my suspicion that I have blood clots as well?”

“Technically, no. As I advised you previously, you would have to go to a real Emergency Department for that.”

“Sh*t. Ok. So…how much is this little visit costing me again?”

“I can’t be 100% sure, but once you factor in all the extra attention and time our triage nurse had to spend with you, I would say in the ball–*inexplicable pause*–park of $400.”

I was getting the feeling that Almost-A-Doctor Alex was taking a jab at this poor, defenseless, COVID-ridden, sleep-deprived patient who just happened to accidentally show up–as the French would say–sans le sous-vêtements.3https://translate.google.com/?sl=fr&tl=en&text=sans%20le%20sous-v%C3%AAtements&op=translate

And I couldn’t help rolling my balls–er, eyeballs–at not only that perceived pun at my expense, but at this whole ----- situation.

“You got to be ----- kidding me. I’m going to pay $400 for you to tell me the exact same thing I told you from the get-go?”

“Um…yeah, I suppose that’s true…”

“I guess it goes to show which one of us the real doctor…”


“I can tell you this: I ain’t going to no Emergency Department–especially after the incredibly useless adventure this Urgent Care turned out to be!”

Finally back in my car, my first order of business was to update my loved ones–via text–letting them know I was still alive and cramping. The Boss Lady was preoccupied tending to our daughters, so I found myself debriefing4No pun intended my dear mother.

Of course, I wasn’t telling her the whole truth about what had just transpired. I mean, what am I going to say, “Oh yeah, I forgot to wear my wedding ring and underwear to my doctor’s visit, and now my new best friend and #1 fan–Nurse Cami–is trying to 5In my attempts to find a humorous synonym for ‘affair’, I came discovered that, in theory, I could use the term ‘calf-love’–alas, too perfect of a joke that no one would ever get… to entice me into a little rendez-vous adultère“? Like I’m going to tell my mom tha–

Oh, wait, I’m getting another text. Maybe it’s my loving wife–

Aw, sh*t. Speak of the devil:

Okay, I shouldn’t read into this too much…I think. Any good nurse would be invested in the well-being of their patient, right?

Just need to politely acknowledge your show of concern…tip my hat…and hopefully never C U again!

Now, since I skipped lunch, I’m Starvin’ Marvin, so, yes, I will gladly “go to the hotel and chill for a little bit”–after I figure out what to eat. Oh, and text my wife that, physically speaking at least, I’m probably going to be OK, of course.

“Google Maps! Find me the nearest Chi–“

*Buzz! Buzz!*

Cool, cool. But I have no idea how to respond to such a text completely void of even a hint of useful information…

*Buzz! Buzz!*

Dammit that better be my wife this ti–

*Face-Palm*

“ARRRRGGGHHH! I don’t have time for this sh*t…”

That was indeed waaaaay too many emojis to be innocent. It was becoming rather apparent that Cami wasn’t into playing hard-to-get.

“Just ignore it, Dude,” I told myself, “You just need to make it back to your hotel room and chill for the rest of the evening…”

Wait. “Hotel.” Oh. Fudge.

Earlier, I had naively told Cami exactly which hotel I was staying in–and of course my full legal name is pretty much common knowledge at this point…

Man oh man, it’s ‘Myra’ all over again…that means there is only one logical way to avoid that home-wrecker for tonight and for the rest of my li–

*Buzz! Buzz!*

“WHAT NOW?!?

Oh…would you look at that? It’s actually my wife calling…


“I’m going to give it to you straight, Doc:6Doctor Hubby, to her at least. my test came back positive. Why don’t you just come on home and we’ll both mask up take care of the girls together?”

The Boss Lady (aka my wife) seemed pretty calm for having just delivered some heart-breaking news. I, on the other hand…

“OHHHH, LAWDY JESÚS, I AIN’T READY TO END MY COVID-CATION YET! I AIN’T READY YET!”

“Jeez, don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

“But–but–but, it’s just that…”

“That what? C’mon home. I’m exhausted already from taking care of the girls by myself the last few days, and I could use the help.”

In my heart of hearts, I wanted to relieve her suffering, but I’ll be damned if I was going to end my COVID-cation without having finished my weekly blog post. And I knew that if I went home that evening that it would never be completed, as I would indubitably be ‘encouraged’ to go to bed shortly after the girls went down for the evening.

But…but wait just a tick! What if there was a way to love my wife and meet my goals at the same time?

“So, I was thinking…maybe you’d like a break from girls for the night? Why don’t I come home and take over child care, and you come enjoy this luxurious Jr. Handicap Accessible Suite for the night. You can even sleep in!”

What I had thought would be a slam-dunk ended up taking a lot more cajoling on my part.

“But I don’t get good sleep in hotels…”

“Oh, you’d get much better sleep than at home, listening to me snore and having the girls wake up coughing randomly in the middle of the night.”

“Well…”

“I promise, I got this, Babe. You covered for me for a few days, now let me return the favor for at least just one night…”

“I don’t know…”

“Also, I’m much less contagious now, so it’s better for me to be around the girls than you, who is probably at the peak of being contagious.”

“Maybe…”

“LOOK: If at least one of us doesn’t stay the night here, the $300 we paid for it and my stint as a bum wandering the streets will all be for naught. Perish the thought!”

“Ok, I suppose so. Come on home, and I’ll head back to the hotel after the girls go down for the night.”

Oh thank god, she agreed–I didn’t want to be there later that evening if Cami came knocking on my door!

“But,” she continued, “be home in time so we can eat dinner together. I can’t wait for you tell me everything you’ve been up to on your little COVID-cation.”

*GULP*

“Uh, you mean ‘everything everything?”

“Yes! Everything!”

Well, honestly I was more than a little embarrassed about the whole ‘Nurse Cami Please-I-Don’t-Want-To-Have-An Affair.’

After packing up my belongings, I got in the car for the 45-minute journey home.

“What the hell am I going to tell my wife?!?” I wondered aloud to myself.

Oh. Right. I already knew the answer to this one:

“Welp, Honey, you see, funny story–true story, in fact–I forgot to wear my wedding ring and underwear when I went to the Urgent Care, and yada yada yada…it looks like I have no choice now but to burn our house down, fake the deaths of our entire family, and emigrate to Finland under completely made up names…”


Content created on: 21/23/yy November 2022 (Mon/Wed/YYY)

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