I cannot say that I have been deliriously happy over the last few days, but I can say that I have been delirious and happy.
I am going through all the symptoms one by one, and today it's nausea's turn. They all come in waves and thankfully they are all mild. I don't know whether or not I am unusual in that, once I accept the idea that I am ill and there is nothing I can do except ride it out, I begin to enjoy it. I enjoy the light-headedness and I enjoy the way my mind wanders as if only half awake.
A few days ago I decided that I really must call up my parents and let them know I have covid. It just seemed the natural thing to do, especially since I have not called them for a long time and am feeling a little guilty about it.
The last time I had full-blown influenza so badly that I could not get out of bed, someone gave me a pile of National Geographic magazines to read. One of them featured the Emperor Napoleon. Being so picture-heavy, National Geographic is ideal for sick people who do not want to exhaust themselves by reading fine print. This issue went one step further.
One of the pages had a folded seam down one edge under which was a scratch-and-sniff sample of what was described as 'Napoleon's favourite perfume'. I was so lucky that it had not been opened.
I tore the seam open, releasing the scent from the microscopic capsules, and was instantly transported back 200 years to the palaces, battlefields and campaign tents all over the world in which the Emperor had marched his troops and plundered his wealth. I could go between the tombs of the Pharaohs in Egypt and the palace of Versailles in France with less effort than it would have taken me to get out of bed.
The scent haunted me and for the several days and nights that it lasted I would go back and unfold the seam of the magazine to visit those places again. It was like entering a magic world.
The perfume wore off at the same rate that my illness did, and by the time I was well again it had completely gone. Every now and then - particularly now - I sense a fleeting memory of it.