i left the papers on the bed, and walked out- and have since contented myself with the wonderful paternal family that chose to let me go visit, when they must’ve been terrified for me. And who kept their mouthes shut to save my feelings all those years, and never spoke a bad word about Mom, my brother, or anyone else- so I could make my own decisions without a biased opinion. And who took me in, and handled the raising of a child without his mother. I never went back, have never spoken to my brother again, or heard from anyone else from that family again.
Three weeks ago my daughter and I fell sick. We had fevers, coughs, headaches and anosmia/lack of appetite. I called my doctor, who said it might be covid-19, but unfortunately she had no way to find out for certain. There were no tests available, even for people extremely sick in local hospitals, much less for someone like myself who seemed likely to recover without any help. So I stayed home for a few weeks (excluding the incubation period when I had no idea I was sick, and no idea I’d been exposed. I still have no idea where I caught it). I was very sick for about a week, then slowly got better, although I still can’t smell anything. Last night I cooked with garlic and had to ask my husband to check if it was stale. I couldn’t smell it even when it was cooking in the pan.