Witchcraft and Wizardry with a Touch of Long Covid

Last week I wrote a blog post about getting Covid at Dutch language school, my unsuccessful job search, and getting rejected for Twitter verification and then I got verified by Twitter and got a job! I think this must have been the most successful blog post in the history of blog posts. It’s nothing short of witchcraft my friends, of this I am sure. We had a partial solar eclipse recently. You do the math.

Covid, however is not as positive an outcome for me. Ever since I had it I’ve been feeling off in a way I can’t quite articulate, but the general malaise coupled with other vexing symptoms prompted me to start monitoring my blood pressure, and it was high. I made an appointment with my house doctor to discuss but then on Friday something extremely stressful happened and my bp sky rocketed to 197 and I ended up with an emergency appointment with my house doctor where my EKG was spiky and he said he “heard something” in my heart. I left with an RX for blood pressure medication and a follow up appointment (which is today) at which time I intend to push for a referral to a cardiologist. I’m scared about the evidence linking Covid to heart attacks and strokes. Dutch medicine is a story of contradictions. It’s wonderful that everyone has healthcare. If you have a baby you get sent home with a nurse who takes care of you and cooks and cleans for you and your family while you recover. But if you have a migraine or an ear infection or bronchitis you’ll be sent away with paracetamol and the suggestion to put an onion by your bed to clear your sinus passages. Getting antibiotics is almost impossible (which does mean there’s less antibiotic resistant illness here) but the first year I was here I ended up with walking pneumonia and couldn’t get antibiotics until I flew to California to visit my sister and went to a walk in clinic. But if you need heart surgery you are in luck as the best surgeons in the world are here, you just need to get past your house doctor first. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

My new job will be working at an adorable Nancy Meyers fever dream shop right in my neighborhood. It’s a three minute bike ride away. I’ll be helping manage the store, and also organizing events the store hosts and helping with their social media and newsletter. I am ridiculously excited about it. It’s so dreamy in the store, it smells of rich coffee, rosemary and lemongrass and it’s filled with beautifully crafted items that spark joy. I can’t imagine a lovelier place to spend my time, I’ll be able to practice my Dutch, and my schedule is flexible enough to allow me time for writing. I’ll also gain valuable skills that will come in handy for my dream of opening my own coffee shop catering to middle aged ladies where I will host literary events and invite all my writing friends to come give readings.

I’ll stay on Twitter with my fancy blue check mark playing my violin as the ship goes down

As for my newly acquired blue check mark on Twitter, well, I guess it will have been nice while it lasted? Things are pretty grim over there on Twitter with the Elon situation. I am so grateful for my experience on Twitter over the last few years. After I wrote my essay about the abuse and misconduct I experienced that led me to leaving my career in publishing I felt supported for the first time since it all happened. I felt heard and seen, which as anyone who has gone through an experience like mine, (and then had people deny it happened), knows how much that fucks with you. Hearing from so many people (mostly women) who had similar experiences with sexism and abuse of power in their workplaces made me feel seen and supported and sane. I am forever grateful for everyone who reached out and continues to reach out to me as my former boss goes through the redemption process, which so many of the people in media and even my former colleagues are actively fostering, revisionist history is a hell of a drug. It’s wild to see, but not surprising. I always said he’d land at the top as men in power do whatever it takes to keep themselves and each other in power to protect the status quo.

On a lighter note, last night was Halloween. Over the summer another American family moved onto our street and my Dutch neighbor said “Now it’s going to be Halloween all over the street” in a very there-goes-the-neighborhood tone, and it turns out he was right. Everyone knows the Americans live on our street and we had so many trick or treaters we ran out of candy by 6:30 pm and my kid ran to the market to buy five more bags, and they were gone 30 minutes later. It was awesome, the kids were all so cute and excited. They love our enormous spider in our front window and our jack-o-lantern. Brian got so excited he ran outside and pooped in the middle of a group of kids so they got the full trick and treat experience. James is in the States for work this week so he missed it, but he got to spend it with my sister’s family and went trick or treating with my little niece and nephew which fills my heart with so much joy. He’s already eaten enchiladas and a burrito and there are nachos on the horizon and I’m so envious I could spit. It’s the closest he’s ever come to cheating on me.

Brian’s a party pooper