I left a fairly high-paying job at the age of 29 to pursue an MBA at UT-Austin. This meant forgoing hundreds of thousands of dollars in salary and taking out loans to pay for this program. My first year was hybrid errr virtual mostly, which in theory devalued a big proposition of an MBA program -- the network. I had long been awaiting a Leadership class I signed up for that culminated with a 10-day camping trek in Chilean Patagonia as a way to really connect with some of my classmates and have a once in a lifetime experience. Covid robbed us of the opportunity to go to Chile, but we moved it to Loreto, Mexico, which would suffice as a backup. Then, they day before I was to leave, I started feeling sick and tested positive for Covid. Are you kidding me !?!?!?!?!?Below is a part satire, part reflection of my shitty seven days of not being in Loreto.

Thoughts from a room that is not a tent in Loreto…

Pre-Journey: Heeding the Call to Adventure

I’ve never truly been camping in my life, which makes the fact I spent all 1,500 of my course bidding points on the Chile NOLS class easily explainable to myself, but not so much to others. Business school has been odd to say the least. Much of my first year was spent logged in to Zoom and simultaneously feeling responsible for not going to every Think’N Drink and entirely left out. My classmates chose a mixture of three paths it seems: pandemic be damned, pandemic is very serious, and the path I chose, somewhere in between. When I first came to campus, I was dead set on joining Venture Fellows and Board Fellows. I wasn’t accepted into either, thus beginning a journey of self-reflection which certainly included a lot of doubt and second guessing why I left a well-paying job to pay for an experience that wasn’t going how I expected. So, I carved my own experience. I clawed for a few fellowships and internships in the venture capital and startup worlds. I remembered that whatever outcome I got from these two years was more a product of my actions than anything else, and I wasn’t going to let the decisions of people I’ve never met dictate my life. After all, I chose to quit my job and come to business school because I was yearning for something different, a new experience altogether. 

When I heard about a class culminating in a trek through Chilean Patagonia, I oddly didn’t seek out anyone who’d done the course or really do any research at all; I simply bid 1,500 points and enrolled. This is not typical behavior for me. I would consider myself to be someone who is willing to try most anything but will then furiously research everything on the topic hoping to eliminate all unexpected outcomes before I dive in. I used to think this was an exclusively positive trait, but the first few months of business school showed me that over-researching can be detrimental to authenticity. So, in a way, signing up for this trip without any camping experience or research was my most authentic act. Yes, the Chile part of the trip was eventually nixed, but to me there wouldn’t be much difference, as I was looking to prove something to myself and come back with some newly won perspective after really camping for the first time in my life. 

On theme with my whole MBA experience, the Omicron variant came at seemingly the worst time. I upgraded to a KN95 mask and even stayed put for Christmas. I loaded up on gear (first time hiking boot purchaser here) at the REI on Lamar and was ready to roll. My girlfriend made fun of me a bit because I may have over-prepared in the gear department, but I was excited. 

I heeded the call to adventure and was ready to cross the threshold into my unknown; then came the symptoms.

Day 1: Crossing the Threshold, Judgment, and Decision Making

Reluctant to cancel my flight, convincing myself I was a victim of what Texans call Cedar Fever, I awaited my Covid test result. My girlfriend was already feeling sick and I was starting to, but I didn’t want to believe it. My suitcase stuffed to the limit, my carry-on empty, save for a sleeping bag, and my dog sat in my room as I read the result: POSITIVE. I sat there for a few minutes, not mourning yet, just recalibrating for a different journey. Mentally, I had already defeated the guardians of the threshold months ago when I submitted that 1,500 point bid. But now, before I embarked on an entirely different trip, I had to defeat a new legion of guardians: the airlines. I was already crushed, but I had to cancel my flights to make it real. OF COURSE, these were non-refundable, but honestly this just made it easier for me because I had absolutely nothing to show for this at all – a complete loss – or at least I thought so.

In the past, I may have brushed off symptoms and thought, “can’t be me,” but in a small way, I demonstrated reluctant leadership. I did the right thing for myself and for my peers. Sometimes leadership is knowing your own limits and when to step aside. At the moment when I had to call it quits on the trip, I was only showing minor symptoms and nearly convinced myself I could tough it out. Turns out, the symptoms would indeed get much worse down the line, so hindsight says it was prudent to stay home for that reason if nothing else. We are all yearning to get back to normal life, and I’ve been living, like many others, the past few months as if Covid was largely over. We have heard that if you’re vaccinated, your risk level is extremely low, but I chose to be responsible and made the right decision. I couldn’t, with a good conscience, put my peers and the NOLS staff at risk. I displayed sound judgment in the midst of extremely disappointing circumstances, even when my goal was within reaching distance. Not only was I not going to Chile, now I wasn’t even going to Loreto, and, now, I was out a significant chunk of change too. After a few hours of being upset and wondering what would happen next, I started to develop a fever. My girlfriend was a bit ahead of me, already with a fever over 100. I hadn’t even spent one second dreading what Covid may bring to us, I was just upset I wasn’t going on this trip. “We’re vaccinated after all, what’s the worst that could happen?” I thought to myself. Thus began an adventure unto itself. 

Day 2: Tolerance for Adversity and Uncertainty in the Belly of the Whale

My boots, gaiters (what an invention), countless layers, and, most importantly, my newly purchased croakies, once symbols of my preparedness for a long trek, were now useless in my most pressing battle. I was now in some sort of limbo – not in Mexico, not working, not back at school – just home, congested, coughing, feverish, and in possession of an extremely bored puppy. Instead of dealing with a lack of water and sleep in the Mexican desert, I was now dealing with an entirely more mundane type of uncertainty. At this point, I had internalized what everyone was saying about Omicron: if you’re vaccinated, your symptoms will be mild, indiscernible from a common cold even. As my and my girlfriend’s symptoms worsened, I was starting to let worry creep in. I’ve dealt with the flu before, and with worse symptoms, but finally getting the daunted Coovid-19 after nearly two years of avoiding it seemed scary. After seeing so many news stories about the millions of people who unfortunately succumbed to this disease, it was hard not to be concerned. We’ve been through a collective drama that I don’t think we will be able to appreciate for a long time.

One of my goals for this trip was to learn to be okay with change and uncertainty and just let my intuition and instincts take over. As I reflect, I feel sad that I missed out on an opportunity to bond with my classmates over unexpected challenges that we overcame on our trip. What I’m trying to appreciate is that this experience has been yet another moment of growth in my relationship with my girlfriend. The worst of the symptoms hit her and me at different times. She got the worst first, and I had to step up and take care of her even when I wasn’t feeling well myself. Then I got hit hard, and she was there for me with a bowl of soup and some sleepy time tea. Forcing myself to accept what was happening and just letting thirty years of training takeover was an oddly satisfying feeling in the face of an unfortunate situation. 

Days 3 & 4: Maintaining Competence and Communication Even in the Abyss 

The long wait, excitement, preparation, first symptoms, positive test, disbelief, frustration, grief, horrible cough and congestion, fever, and uncertainty all led to this. Here we were, both very sick, barely enough energy to even order food, let alone deal with an energetic dog and cat. We were past the point at which the “milder Omicron symptoms” should have passed. We were in for a longer fight. This was certainly the low point of the whole ordeal. The exhaustion of coughing constantly for three days combined with knowledge that I was missing out on this trip was tough. We had to stay the course though; continue taking our vitamins, over-hydrate, and stay positive. If we could only not let the sickness and disappointment not overwhelm us, we would be able to look back on this with a laugh. I was supposed to be gone, detached from email and day-to-day responsibilities of life. However, now that I was still here, I had emails and slacks inbound. I’m never one to just sit still. I thought three days of incognito mode was enough. Yes, I was too eager to get back into the swing of things, but my girlfriend was sick too, and she couldn’t handle everything on her own. We had to be very clear with each other when we saw the other pushing too hard. When I was writing my third investment memo of the day for my internship, I would hear “hey, you were supposed to be gone anyways, slow down.” When I would notice Em disappearing into her office for too long, I would remind her that her screenplay would still be there in a few hours after she rested. These were the days I really focused on taking care of myself and my girlfriend. Our health is the most important thing, and even that was too easy to lose sight of at times here in the Abyss.

Day 5: The Advantages of Designated Leadership and a Sort of Apotheosis 

By the time the fifth day of feeling like crap rolled around, I had long passed the hopeful thought that OMicron was a quick, mild sickness. I was starting to get frustrated because I was now aware of how immobile we had been as a result of this disease. I was so bored of what I was reading, what I was watching, and feeling terrible. On the bright side, we could begin to see the other side however. Real life was starting to creep back in as it became impossible to ignore household chores, work emails, and planning of things that were coming up. Neither of us yet had the physical strength to get back to a normal routine, but it was the mental fog of the last five days that made it even more difficult. We were tired of eating soups and drinking tea, but we also had an empty fridge and pantry. Now was the time to start thinking about eating normally which came with shopping and cooking. Thank the universe for Instacart. Em and I split duties looking at putting together different aspects of a shopping list. We were more than happy to pay a delivery fee, tip, and a “platform fee” in order to have groceries delivered to us. I typically bear the brunt of maintaining the household, so this process was a bit strange because I had to relinquish some control to her. I like my routines. However, neither of us were back to our routines yet, neither of us had the proper strength that would allow us to anyways. We banded together though to knock out our pressing affairs. Em would cook breakfast, I would walk the dog. I would cook dinner, Em would call the vet to reschedule our dog’s appointment. I would organize and submit the pet insurance claims from 2021 while Em would book the flights for her best friend’s wedding in Italy in May. These are all very normal and privileged things to have to worry about, but it’s nice to be reminded that you can ask your partner for help and lead by designating tasks to one another. At this point, I came to the realization that I had indeed missed the trip, and now was the time to start handling what was next. I remembered why I had come to Austin in the first place: to achieve a greater understanding of myself and my dreams. Armed with a forward-looking mindset and a stuffy nose, I plotted a course forward.

Day 6: Vision and Action…with Slight Hesitation

At this point, I had mastered how to exist in this strange limbo we’d been thrust into. With almost another week until my next semester began, I let my mind wander and imagined how it would be easy to just stay in this vegetative state until an outside force moved me along. The panic, frustration, grief, and miserable sickness I’d been through earned me a place here. I thought maybe I deserved a little more rest. There were plenty of responsibilities still beckoning though. I may not have been back to even 70% of my usual self, but I had big plans right around the bend. I had been an intern at a venture capital firm since September, and I had a big meeting coming up the next day with the partners to discuss what my next steps may be with the firm. I needed to get in the right mindset. The past six days had kind of turned my brain to mush. I wasn’t as sharp as I was before. I needed to clear the fog so I could see my vision and get back on course. A “tuition due” email reminds me of my decision to take on student debt to come here, a Google calendar invite update reminds me of how far I’ve come, and, again, my dog pawing at the sliding door reminds me of my very real responsibilities that have not gone away either. I have to actively choose to get back on track and ditch the “woe is me” narrative because I didn’t get to go to Loreto. Maybe the universe didn’t want me to go, maybe there is meaning I can dig out of this unfortunate conundrum of bad timing. I have to be comfortable not knowing everything, but I can control my vision and how I act to fulfill it.

Day 7: Self-Awareness and Forgiveness

Still not close to 100%. This OMicron variant certainly was anything but mild. I just took my dog out for a walk and I got easily winded. I’m trying not to read any articles about long-haul Covid. I have to eat healthy, get back to a sustainable routine, and hope for the best. I have work to do and a few meetings on the calendar. I was supposed to be in Mexico, but since I’m not, I might as well try to be productive now. Now is the time to be a champion of things to come, not of things past. The past is done. I can’t go back in time and not get Covid. The future is coming, but as I clearly just experienced, it is futile to predict at times. All I can do now is live in the moment, remembering what I came to UT to accomplish. I’m only a few months away from graduating, on the precipice of the life I think I wanted. Now is not the time to let up, and in the process, let outside forces control my happiness and success. I have so much to be thankful for, yet I need to maintain the chip on my shoulder. I didn’t get into Venture Fellows, didn’t get into Board Fellows, didn’t get my first, second, or even third choice of internship, didn’t get to go to Chile or Mexico, didn’t get to experience my first true camping trip, yet here I am, with a chance to accomplish so much. I’m aware that I can’t control everything, and being at peace with that is something I know I will be working on for the rest of my life. My goals are still in front of me and I will get to Coyhaique one day.