I had to attend a funeral recently even though the guest of honor was not one of my favorite people. News of his death shook me up even less than hearing Roger Ailes had died. In 30 seconds I slipped right back into highlights of the Cubs … losing … again. Thinking about my own funeral, which could occur any day now, made me realize he would have been required to attend had I been the first to drop.

My family will expect me to be there.

I knew everyone would give little consideration to the fact that the virus that changed everything had recently issued its annual summer variant and is once again leaving people breathless in ICU’s and Emergency Rooms from coast to coast. I wore my mask anyway. The first person I see in the parking lot is my cousin, Loquacious “Lolo” Jackson. I call him Lo. I am a registered nurse. That is true. The rest of this is satire so it is not.

“Look at you, man! You’re styling that mask to hide some of your ugly, huh? We all appreciate that, but you know you look ridiculous, right? You are still out here shivering like a girl and pretending your little mask will save you.”

You look like J.J. Walker’s son was born with one of those janky, shriveled-ended chromosomes — a limited edition ugly. My mask looks sexier than an endotracheal tube sticking out of my face. I do not intend to end up being patient zero for a COVID outbreak. “Tonight at ten on Eyewitness News, a jackass nurse infects 25 family members at a funeral.”

“So what if you do? I have had COVID three times already. Too bad they cut the time off requirement down from 10 days to five. I barely noticed it last time I had it and got to spend the last three days off day-drinking and killing some poker online. I call COVID ‘Vid’ or’ Viddy’ because we are so tight now. You have been vaccinated, right? Calm your nerves.”

You sound like some of these COVID queens I work with who have been off so often I have forgotten what they look like. I cannot even remember the last time I had an entire week off from work. These people must order the COVID fries with a side of COVID sauce every other week. Meanwhile guess who has to take up the slack while they are also probably day-drinking and losing money to you playing poker online?

“Let them keep bringing Daddy his pay, cuz! Nothing is stopping you from getting on this gravy train. You still have never tested positive, huh? I got to tell you that is a little mind boggling. Maybe it is the mask keeping you safe after all. You ain’t hoping you will come down with it are you?”

I am not stupid enough to hope I catch it. My luck is not all that good. A middle-aged, overweight, hypertensive Black man like me might not survive the dreaded Sars COV-19. I never tested positive for the virus. I have worked on a unit full of patients who had it and have personally swabbed the nostrils of at least 20 positive cases, but no days off with pay for me.

People who recover from being infected do not always skip out of the hospital singing a happy tune, Lo. The aftermath of the coronavirus frequently comes with respiratory failure, extensive renal damage and even weird hematological disorders that leave doctors scratching their heads. It might not kill you, but it can take you right up to death’s doorstep and ring the doorbell to hell.

“Yeah, you keep telling me that. Three infections later and I am still kicking. I hope you realize I do have respect for those who have died. I even respect you and the other professionals who have carried this load for the past two years. It has to be hard and tiring work. I get it, but man, people need to live their lives. No one is going to accept being locked down and forced by the government to wear masks all the time again. Those days are over.”

They are not over, though. Everyone should be concerned about the rising rates of transmission. Not as many people are dying these days, but that does not mean the danger has passed. Every time the virus spreads from one person to another it has the opportunity to mutate just enough to render all vaccines and known treatments useless. There is no dissention among the ranks of the virus. It has only one objective, find and infect new hosts, all day every day.

A new variant could appear that spreads and kills much faster than anything we have seen so far. As bad as things have been, it could still get much worse.

“Well, you go ahead, wallow in fear and hide out in your house all you want. I got tickets to go see Jodeci next weekend up in Chicago. You stay home with the wife watching everything on Netflix. I will be watching K Ci get pelted with granny panties when he sings ‘Forever My Lady.’ That sounds a little creepy doesn’t it? His fans really are all grannies by now.”

I am okay with hiding. If this virus decides it wants you dead you better get your affairs in order. I know what I am talking about. By the way, I bet for $500 Jodeci would probably come sing at this funeral.

Make it $750 and you could get Keith Sweat, too!

My cousin and I had a laugh and headed up the steps to the Tabernacle Missionary Baptist Church. As we entered we ran into our Aunt Victoria. “Auntie, what did our man die from anyway?” Lolo asked her.

“I am pretty sure he died from the coronavirus, baby.” she said.