In the age of coronavirus, simple things become more complicated. It takes four extra steps to stop at the store for milk while we don masks, wait outside for the occupancy to go down, walk one-way in the aisles, and throw on a glove to use the debit card machine now that the stores request "touch-free payment options".
Other moments of our everyday lives have new levels of complexity, too. Last week, as many of you know from my rearranged Zoom schedule, I was under the weather. I had a fever, a sore throat, and an absolutely insane headache. I have never had a migraine but I suspect it is a similar level of incapacitation. Looking at my phone or laptop was painful; as I would start to work or to respond to a text, a blinding throb started and would not stop until I closed my eyes.
Now, here's the thing: all of these ailments can be easily explained. Sore throat? It had rained, the wind was pretty strong here in Petaluma, and all of the plants and flowers near my home had shaken off their dusty parts to fly around and settle in my throat. Crazy headache? Although I took the week "off" of online news and social media, I spend all day online for work on both my phone and computer. In addition to assisting students and their parents, I help my own kids with their schoolwork, which is all on a screen. I sleep too few hours at night and struggle to drink enough water. A headache makes perfect sense in this scenario. The fever? Well, likely a 48-hour bug that had me down for the count with chills and exhaustion. Normally, I would have called in one sub day so I could rest and recover, and then gone on living my life as a healthy human.
Instead, after mentioning my symptoms to Ms. Libby and Ms. Holmstedt, they encouraged me to get tested for Covid-19. My doctor agreed that my mix of symptoms warranted a drive-in test (a walk-in test at SRJC was not an option while I still had a fever); just as my Zoom was about to start with 7A on Thursday, the doctor's office called with an available appointment...in 20 minutes! Ms. Hofmann told me, "Take that time!!!" so with a quick swap to her as host of the call and a hurried "Hi/Bye" to my homeroom, I ran out the door. Truth be told, the nose-swab test was a surprise. The nurse said it would be uncomfortable and she was not lying! Still, it was 15 seconds of discomfort for the peace of mind that I could safely go outside or to the grocery store - totally worth it. I was told to expect results in 24-48 hours, and in the meantime stay in my house isolated from all others. No walks or interactions with neighbors, even masked. Ava and Ike were with their dad so the timing felt like a small gift. It was not an effort to stay home because I felt too gross to go anywhere, even for a walk.
Friday morning, 9 am - A message from my doctor dinged my email. Wow, so soon! I thought, "I don't know why this seemed like a big deal...this has been a piece of cake from beginning to end." The message started with the word unfortunately. My heart raced. This is not the word you want to see on a note from your doctor when you are expecting good news. The unfortunately was followed by a message that there had been an error at the lab and I needed to be retested. I was crushed. I tend to look on the bright side; I frequently irritate loved ones with my ability to find a silver lining in all circumstances. This did not jive with what I thought was going to happen, and I did not see a bright side! My doctor's note said I would need to be retested and they would reach out with an available time. In the meantime, I did the math - if I didn't get my test results back until say, 48 hours after a retest "sometime" on Friday, I was going to be in my home through the weekend. I hadn't left my house since Tuesday except for the swab on Thursday. Tuesday to...Monday? 6 days with no interactions, no walks, no kids. I enjoy being alone and I am rarely, if ever, bored but forced isolation is a much different feeling than being alone by choice. I was recovering, but there was this tickle in the back of my mind: if I tested positive, who would need to be contacted for interacting with me? We have been following the guidelines to the letter since March 13 so my circle of contacts is very small but then they would all have to look at their interactions with co-workers, families, and neighbors; suddenly, the small world I have been living in felt much larger and in a precarious position.
The second test (by the same apologetic nurse who had done my first swab) was much more gentle. Was it because I knew what to expect? Possibly, but she said it was different type of swab that was more sensitive than the last. She stated "24-36 hours" for results, even on weekends, which cheered me immensely. I went home to wait it out; I was starting to feel better. My fever usually came back at night but stayed fairly consistent during the day so my energy was returning. Saturday morning, I knew it was too soon to check but it was the first thing I did when I woke up. No results posted. I thought it was ironic that parks were starting to reopen while I was here with time and energy but not allowed to walk to any open green spaces. I cleaned my house, did as much schoolwork as my lingering headache permitted, watched live cams of beaches, wondered about the test results and possible consequences, and stared outside my door at my neighbors cycling by as a family. I made a game of not checking for results to be posted: how long can you go without checking for a message from the doctor? Answer? I can go 3 hours. After that, all bets are off. By my check at 6 pm (hour 30), I accepted that it wasn't going to happen on my timeline. This patient needed more patience.
During the past week of fever, the time between awake and asleep blurred. Normally, I turn off my phone before bed but I must have drifted off Saturday night without realizing it because I woke to the tell-tale ding around 11 pm. Should I have waited until I was fully awake and prepared to read the test result? Yes, probably, but there was no way I was going to wait another minute! The first line was all that mattered to me: You have tested negative for an illness known as COVID-19, caused by a coronavirus. It's hard to describe the relief but that negative result brought me back into all the large and small moments we call life. I could be a part of socially-distant conversations from my driveway, restock at the grocery store, bring my kids back from their dad's house, and breathe easy knowing I am not a nameless statistic listed on the news. In the morning I would text my tribe of incredible friends the good news, but the silver linings came to me immediately before I fell back asleep: self-isolation gave me time to reflect on my compliance with the SIP order and recommit despite my frustration; I now understand the testing process and can recommend testing to my friends and family when it becomes widely available in their area (we are lucky - it is available for free in Sonoma County at multiple walk-in clinics such as SRJC but not where my most of my family lives); I will never put off going for a walk again, despite my energy level or the weather. I'm going! In fact, the list of positives in this situation is long and I keep coming up with more. Most of all, I was reminded that while our worlds feel small right now, what we are doing is part of a larger goal to keep each other safe.
my dad stoped at the store for milk once.