It was bound to happen.The day after her Los Angeles middle school let out for the summer, my irrepressible 12-year-old niece, who lives with me, was feverish and lethargic. This was so unfair.For more than two years, she’d been an absolute beast about wearing her mask, declining to pull it down for photos, forgetting to take it off at home, perplexed by the mask refuseniks.Just three days earlier, she’d tested negative for COVID-19 at school. Then, suddenly, positive. Opinion Columnist Robin Abcarian Her symptoms were mild, and frankly, she wasn’t too upset at first because she equates being sick with watching television, drinking ginger ale and eating ice cream.However, once she realized she would not be able to join family for a long-planned trip to Disneyland, she basically lost it. I kept my distance from her and did not change my weekend plans, which was probably a mistake.AdvertisementThat evening, I co-hosted a college graduation party for my step-granddaughter. The next, I had dinner with my daughter and former stepmother. (We steered clear of my niece; the party took place in a friend’s backyard, and the dinner was served in the little mother-in-law apartment above my garage.) On Tuesday morning, I woke up with a sore throat, slight fever and the sinking feeling that my luck had run out. Two red lines on the rapid antigen test confirmed it.With two vaccines and one booster shot under my belt, how sick would I get? And what should I do? ::Chances are you know someone who has COVID-19 right now. California’s current surge, reports my colleague Luke Money, is the third-highest peak of the entire pandemic. Blessedly, fewer people are becoming seriously ill, getting hospitalized or dying.That’s because we now have vaccines, readily available home tests and, of course, antiviral medications for those at risk of becoming seriously ill.In the spring, the state of California, Los Angeles County and the city of L.A. all stopped requiring proof of vaccination to enter public spaces like rest …
