By Juan C. Ayllon As an educator, I've been dutiful in getting vaccinated, boosted and re-boosted, and after remaining unscathed for roughly a year and a half through remote and hybrid teaching models, I caught a mild dose of COVID-19. I thought I was done. Guess again. Last week following three rounds of antibiotics over a stretch of several months, I was seemingly at the tail end of a bad sinus infection -- and then it roared back with a vengeance. Coughing, sneezing, sore throat, and muscle aches. It felt like the flu, sans the nausea. I tested negative for COVID several times, but going into last weekend, I felt horrible. A visit to Urgent Care followed, along with more medication. Just to be on the safe side, Belle asked me to take another COVID test with a home kit. Surprise! I tested positive. We tested again to ensure it wasn't a false reading. Nope, I was positive. Of course, I contacted the Urgent Care center I'd visited, as well as several people I'd seen on Saturday. And, like that, I was relegated to remaining home in isolation for five days, I am now on Day Three. I am not feeling as awful as I was on Sunday, but I remain fatigued, coughing, sneezing, and dealing with a scratchy throat, sore muscles and stiffness. The extra rest and prescribed medications are helping, and I am no longer in the dire distress I was several days ago. It's a good thing I was vaccinated, I've been told. It could have been worse. A little over a year ago, my friend and carpenter, Tim, who worked on our basement refinishing project told me about his wife's ex, who boasted that COVID was a big hoax and defiantly declined vaccination. Then he caught it, was hospitalized, put on a ventilator and died that Thanksgiving. It was a horrible way to go. Several friends and acquaintances were hospitalized with it, and one lost most of her hair and took to wearing hats until it grew back. Some Sad News and a Wake Up Call Yesterday, I received news of the unexpected death of a former middle school and high school classmate, Mr. Jay Gaynor. We didn't run in the same social circles and he was a year ahead of me. However, when I was in the seventh grade, he made a distinct impression. Standing in the main hall of Rand Junior High (in Arlington Heights, IL, since shuttered), I seem to recall bumping into each other and got into a tiff. Having won a few schoolyard scraps, I had a bit of an attitude, but he set me straight with a stiff left jab to the chin. Looking up at him, standing several inches taller than me, bouncing on his toes in his boxer's stance, I realized that I didn't have an answer, and turned and walked away. Several years later in high school, I'd taken to bodybuilding, art, and Son City (a popular Christian youth group in Palatine, IL that hosted over 700 screaming teens on Thursday nights), I didn't see him much, but I heard that he gave one of our star defensive football players a hard time in shop class until Bill Thurwell, a bigger and burlier teammate (who'd allegedly knocked out a grown man in a traffic altercation) stepped in. However, I'd heard that Mr. Gaynor had mellowed since then. These days, Mr. Gaynor was admired by friends for his kindness, loyalty and love of Old Style Beer. I wish I had gotten to know him. We recently became Facebook friends and even exchanged a few "likes" and a pleasantry or two, but we never had the the chance to hunker down and chat. I wish we had. Rest in Peace, gentle warrior. There's something about pain and sickness that rouses our sense of mortality, and while processing the recent rash of celebrity deaths that's been mirrored by my own growing list of contemporaries -- with Mr. Gaynor being the latest -- I spotted this posting while scrolling through Facebook on my iPhone from bed. Captioned with the words, "Choose the way you age," it featured two contrasting silhouetted figures shown over time: the first showed the progression of a man from young father, businessman, holding his back, to walking with a cane and, finally, seated in a wheelchair, while the other showed an active man with children, talking on a cell, carrying his briefcase, to playing tennis and, finally, golfing. It was a posting by my former youth pastor, Tom Morris. A longtime friend and former leader of Youth Guidance/Youth For Christ for which I volunteered in high school and college, he currently runs a ministry in Southern California called Grieving Teens. Above the graphic, he'd written the words: "How do you want to grow old? You either grow old or die! Choose to grow old and vibrant if you are graced with health! Health is fleeting, so do your best to exercise, trust God, think, eat, and sleep, and forge ahead with grace!" That caught my attention. I've been talking a big game with Belle about getting back in shape and dropping some weight, but now I really want to make it a priority and make it happen in the days and seasons ahead. Belle keeps reminding me that she'd like to keep me around for another 30 years or so, and I'd really like to make that happen, with God's help. Health is fleeting, after all, and I certainly don't want to be in a wheelchair. So, after the COVID lifts and I resume teaching, reviewing, writing, listening to music, spending time with Belle, family and all the other activities that comprise life, I look forward to taking better care of myself with better diet and exercise. As former Mr. World and 1960s and 70s bodybuilder, Rick Wayne, used to write in Joe Weider's Flex and Muscle Builder magazine articles, "'Nuff said!'"
1 Comment
William DiMarco
3/17/2024 03:25:29 am
I enjoyed reading these. Audiophiles are a rare breed it’s nice to run across em👍🤣. I miss my usher audio mini dancers dmd they are quite nice. Getting back into audio shortly with a listening room revamp.
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Juan C. AyllonA writer, artist, educator and owner of Prairie Audio Man Cave, he lives with his wife, Isabel (AKA Belle), and their Goldendoodle, Liam, enjoys listening to high fidelity music and all things hi-fi at their home in the greater Chicagoland area.. Archives
March 2024
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