I’ve waited before, this is nothing new. Waited for service, waited for grades, waited for puberty, waited for the check to clear. But today I’m waiting for Corona virus. I recon the only reason I got a test this morning is because I am scheduled for the regular periodic scans of my innerds. But here I am waiting to see what the next hurdle might be.

I’m a guy (most of you are aware of this) and so I exhibit regular guy behaviors and thinking. You know, the standard stuff like: “I’ll go to the doctor when that limb needs to be reattached” or “The human body has a lot more blood than that, let me just get the super glue” How about: “Anesthesia?, hell just give me some rawhide to bide down on.” It’s not the ailment that’s the problem, it’s the waiting. Tell me what’s wrong and I know whether to get the staple gun or the body filler. But don’t make me wait. Heaven help the Amazon delivery guy if he misses the delivery. If they say by 9pm, they better damn well mean it.

As a gender we believe that you should look us in the eye and tell us that our knee bending backwards is a bad thing. We can take it. But at times like this, our moxie can be like peanut brittle. Especially as an older dude and despite my best efforts to stay cloistered, I have a vague notion of what a positive diagnosis means.

A few hours later… My results are back…negative. The moral of the story? Don’t sweat what you don’t know. Yea, if you can survive a tractor rolling over you (Kevin, you know who you are) if you can take that, a swab up your nose or a vaccination in your arm shouldn’t require you biting down on that piece of rawhide.