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I think one of the hardest parts for me from all this, is hearing stories from my friends who are either been infected or have/had family infected or die from Covid and feeling utterly useless and helpless because not even words of condolence feel anywhere near adequate when something like this happens. One of my close friends posted that her Dad was taking some risks even though he would wash his hands and wear a mask. Risks like going to the gym everyday/hanging with people/etc. Because even though my friend and her siblings would tell him to not play that game he said he didn't want to skip over life so if he got it he got it. He was found unconscious when someone noted he didn't show up for work and it was discovered that he suffered a stroke due to Covid-peumonia combo, and then put into a medically induced coma with intubated to help him breathe. Apparently it's not uncommon for Covid to cause strokes without any prior symptoms) 3 days later (today) she updated that he's finally woken up and was able to respond to his name and be a little coherent. And sadly he can't move the left side of his body. I'm happy for her that hopefully her dad can start getting on the mend but it's shit like this that makes me want to go around beating people with a stick for being selfish asshats and keep comparing this to the damn flu.

Jovanna got the first dose at that job thing on Saturday.