March 25, 2020:  Let Me Try! The Car That Wouldn't Start, and the Diagnostics for NCOVID-19 -

Today's kindof funny analogy, not going exactly where you think it is going:

Many years ago, I was up in Seattle for the weekend, and a friend and I went to Sunday dinner before I headed home to Portland, and when we finished dinner (Indian, delicious), we walked out and I got in my car, and it wouldn’t start. None of the regular battery, alternator, starter clues. It was a lump.

We wiggled the key, we fiddled around in various ways, we may have tried to jump it, and in the end we decided to call AAA and just hang until they arrived.

Somewhere in this process, a nice man happened by and asked if we were okay. We said Yeah, car won’t start, and he said, “Let me try.” And I gave him the keys, but the car wouldn’t start for him.

And then shortly thereafter, next man, same thing, and the car wouldn’t start for him, either. And even after we gave up and just sat there, warm evening, chatting and waiting for AAA, people would walk by and kindly enquire “You two okay?” and we’d say Yeah, car won’t start, just waiting for AAA.

Interestingly, it turned out that the women walking past would look sympathetic and say, “Bummer, good luck.” But the men, to a person, would say, “Let me try.” And oddly, the car wouldn’t start for any of them.

At one point a guy said, “Let me try,” and my friend said, “Seriously?”, and we got the giggles. After a while, we’d see a guy approaching and we’d start to laugh before he spoke, and of course he would say, “You two okay?” and we’d gasp out, “Yes, yes, we’re fine (peals of laughter), the Car Won’t Start (more peals),” and we’d look at him with suppressed mirth, and I’d have the keys in my hand, and we’d wait to see if he too was going to do it … and he’d say, “Let me try,” and I’d hand him the keys while we both howled in hysterics.

In short, we were rude to nice people who only wanted to help out, but in our (minimal) defense, it was also really funny.

(Also, just imagine, handing car keys back and forth for thirty minutes with total strangers, never even thinking about microbes! Long ago!)

Car never did start, though. Finally the AAA guy got there and of course he had to say “Let me try,” at which point we were convulsed, leaving him wondering what our problem was. Car didn’t start. (Broken wire in the steering column, no electricity at all from the key to anything. I had to spend another day in Seattle, car got towed to a shop, everything worked out fine.)

I’m not using this story to talk about mansplaining before the word “mansplaining” existed, though yeah, I see it would serve that purpose. The memory actually came back to me as I was musing about my experience of possibly-having-COVID in a particular place on earth (Oregon) at a particular moment of the crisis (before enough tests were available that they could be allocated to people with mild or not-checking-each-box symptoms, and before serological tests (for antibodies) were available).

My maybe-COVID experience shared the weird “Perhaps I know better than you do” aspect of the dead car.

Me: Here’s my lived reality – I am SICK and yet not sick enough nor with exactly the right symptoms to qualify for the tests we don’t yet have here in Oregon, believe me, I have looked into this.

Some people: Let me try! (Series of questions, How long, When did you last, Do you know anyone, Where do you think, What is your temp….)

I absolutely knew they were asking out of concern (also fear of the unknown, also curiosity, also love), and I also knew that my situation was a mystery that could not be solved in the existing circumstances. I had tried to solve it. Car wouldn’t start. I had medical support, thank you, and a plan for if it GOT worse or if the RIGHT symptoms showed up but in the meantime…. I was miserable, and I didn’t want to let people try. I knew they meant well, and I just didn’t want it.

So I was REALLY RUDE, is what I’m saying. I snapped at people who just wanted to ask a few questions. I had no patience. After a while, I’d just say I’m SICK, and they’d say ooh, what are your symptoms today?, and I’d say SERIOUSLY, I can’t do this, it doesn’t HELP, I’m just … I’m SICK, okay? I’m SICK.

And then other people would say, “Give me some good news, tell me you are better,” and I’d just be SO impatient, NO, I am not going to manufacture good news for you, STOP IT. Meet me where I AM.

Stories are now beginning to show up where people who had a mild version describe the symptoms. Those people, in different circumstances, actually got tested (many before they showed any symptoms at all), so they know they DID have it. I wasn’t tested, and now that I am (probably) over (whatever I had) there is not a test to see if I have antibodies.

But I love the stories of people who definitely had a mild version, never felt like they were near death, but were utterly miserable for a long stretch.

One woman detailed a bunch of random symptoms and said, “It was the weirdest thing,” and I felt that great surge of recognition and companionship, “Hello, over there!!” Whatever I had, it was the weirdest thing. Some of you may now, or shortly, say the same. If you are in the vortex, let me know.