It seems that, in spite of many measures, I have contracted the modern equivalent of leprosy. Perhaps I should walk around with my face covered shouting, "Unclean!" When you learn that you are infected with the novel coronavirus that everyone's been trying to avoid for six months, you certainly feel unclean, along with plenty of other emotions.
I'd like to start at the beginning. It really starts well before last Thursday when I first exhibited symptoms. It started as the news of a deadly virus began traveling around the world, then got twisted by politics, then got into the grimy hands of social media self-proclaimed experts. As we waded through an unprecedented six months of controversy, bickering, "fake news," politicizing, mask policies, business closings, and so much more, people were dying. As researchers and doctors accumulated more knowledge day by day, and their findings were immediately skewed by political agendas and picked apart by keyboard warriors, people died. It has gotten to the point where many of us are just tired. Tired of the news. Tired of the data. Tired of Facebook and Twitter. Tired of arguing. Tired of keeping up. Tired of being so cautious. And that's the crux of it--just when it matters most, we're just tired of it all. People we are around are ignorant of the warning signs, or are tired of missing out on group gatherings. We become tired of being "that person" who not only follows the rules, but appears to be judging our friends who don't because we enforce boundaries. So we don't. We get tired of it.
So how did I catch COVID-19? Let me count the ways...
Perhaps when I helped pass out yearbooks at the school, outdoors, to people in their cars, with a mask on--maybe I didn't wash my hands well enough after touching a yearbook.
Perhaps when I took my cat to the vet to be spayed, and I sat in my car with a mask on while the vet tech, masked, asked some questions and then took the cat into the clinic--maybe the mask wasn't effective.
Perhaps when I went to my local Dollar General to grab a few items and the store manager had her mask around her chin, and I asked her to cover her mouth and nose before I would approach the cash register--maybe that was too little, too late.
Perhaps our decision to school two other children in our home, with an understanding between us and their parents that we would make smart choices and follow protocol--maybe they brought this virus in.
Perhaps letting my children play outside with our new neighbors, despite our reminders to social distance--maybe I should never have trusted eight-year-olds to be responsible for staying healthy.
While I can't trace my illness to its origins, I'm grappling with anger, frustration, fault-finding, guilt, and sorrow surrounding the simple fact that I caught it. Virtually every text or call I've received has begun with, "But you're so careful..." and I truly don't know how to respond to that. Do you want me to say I wish I had loosened up? Do you want me to say I guess it's inevitable, so we might as well just get back to normal? Do you want me to say that all the caution got me nowhere?
The truth is, I don't regret not eating in a restaurant for six months. I don't regret dutifully wearing my mask in public. I don't wish I had hosted some indoor parties and gatherings. I only wish I had not let down my guard, and I especially wish America had not let down its guard. If my friends and neighbors and community had only taken the precautions we have all been advised to take, I might not be sitting here with a dull headache and neck pain, bitterly writing about my experience.
Last Thursday my in-laws came over for a Bible study, and we decided to sit outside since the weather is finally bearable. Shortly after they left, I began sneezing quite a bit--which reminded me to take my Zyrtec. After a few hours of sneezing and runny nose, I took a stronger antihistamine that usually knocks it out but knocks me out in the process. Sure enough, my sneezing and runny nose went away but so did my energy, as expected. Friday I woke up feeling clear-headed and great. Later in the day, I was tired and felt like napping, but it had been a long week. Saturday I felt good again, although I had apparently slept awkwardly and had a stiff neck, so I ran some errands with the kids--over to my parents' for a visit and a walk, to the grocery store for a couple of items, etc. I was feeling a little worn out later, but I googled it and was reassured that allergies often cause fatigue. I pushed aside a niggling question of whether I should go to a family Stars game watching get-together, since all I felt was a little tired and my allergies had gone away with medication. So I went, ate a hot dog, sat on the floor and watched the Stars. No hugging or close contact, but no social distancing or masks, either. Sunday morning I woke up around 3:00 feeling VERY off. I was very thirsty and felt freezing cold when I got out of bed. The thermometer read 101.1F. I tried to go back to sleep on the couch but my mind was racing, and my body temperature was vascillating between shivering cold and hot flashes that caused me to break into a sweat, only to immediately freeze again. I took some ibuprofen and took a hot bath, then finally fell back asleep around 6:00. I continued to run a fever despite staying medicated, and I made a drive-thru COVID testing appointment at a local CVS. Chris drove me there and we sat in an unmoving line of cars for an hour, finally learning that the system had been down but was up and running again. The pharmacy technician passed us the testing kit through the drive through window and gave me instructions to insert the swab in my nose until I felt resistance, turn it around a couple of times, counting to fifteen. Then, repeat the whole thing in the other nostril. I wanted to have absolute confidence in the results so I pushed that sucker way up there, tears streaming down my face, sneezing, persisting until Chris said, "It's been way longer than fifteen seconds!" We sealed up the swab and dropped it in the box with the feeling of awaiting my fate. The rest of the day I spent contacting anyone I had been around and warning them, apologizing and regretting. I slept great Sunday night and woke up Monday fever-free. I still had that nagging stiff neck and a little bit of a sore throat from drainage, but that got better later in the day. I was feeling pretty tired and sleepy but had no major symptoms like coughing, shortness of breath, loss of taste and smell, etc. Not even a fever anymore. Chris started to show some frustration that I had jumped the gun and taken a COVID test. He was sure I was experiencing allergies or maybe a cold. I started to believe him, even though I continued to insist that the way I felt with that fever was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I found myself googling West Nile virus and meningitis, thinking perhaps I had contracted something altogether different. Tuesday was much the same, except that stiff neck was REALLY annoying. The heating pad and ibuprofen didn't even touch it, and Chris tried to find the muscles that were causing the stiffness but couldn't make it any better with massage. Then a headache came on and I just couldn't seem to get rid of it with the ibuprofen, even when I took more than recommended. I also started experiencing what I call ocular migraines, where my eyes begin to struggle to focus and the periphery of my vision is wavy and trippy. I was unable to address my vision and head issues with medication, and my head just felt--wrong. Just when I was putting all of this together, I received my results--positive for COVID-19. Oh, and by the way, if you experience certain symptoms such as STIFF NECK, seek immediate medical treatment. ?!? I quickly got on a virtual visit with a doctor from my regular practice, and he gave me lots of great advice. He told me my first day of symptoms was the day I thought I was having allergies, which meant I was already on Day 6 of COVID. He said Day 8 is the day that those who end up hospitalized say everything goes south. He told me to use a pulse oximeter and keep close track of my oxygen saturation, and to take Mucinex religiously to keep congestion from settling in my lungs. He said the lungs are the priority. He also said the majority of the viral shedding happens on days 3-5, so I had probably already been the most contagious. He said I was probably contagious up to 72 hours before symptoms started, and anyone who had been in close contact with me should quarantine for 14 days from the date of contact. He said my immediate family should be presumed positive. I was told that after Day 10, if fever-free for 24 hours and symptoms were improving, I could be out of isolation. I lamented to the doctor that I have been so careful and was still struggling to believe I could be positive; he commisserated and told me up to 40% of people are asymptomatic and many more that he's seen have only had allergy-like symptoms but tested positive.
Sadly, having COVID-19 isn't just about trying to recover. It's about contacting anyone you may have exposed, and knowing they too will have to quarantine, missing work, missing anything they were looking forward to doing, missing any celebrations. It's about learning that your husband gave his boss a lift to his car on Friday, and even though they were both masked, his boss is extremely concerned that he may have to reschedule a back procedure he needs. It's about your son missing hockey tryouts, and your daughter missing piano lessons and horseback riding. It's about the whole family having to cancel your brother-in-law's birthday gathering. It's also the deep fear that maybe someone you exposed doesn't fare so well. It's trying to reach your parents, who are (blissfully) oblivious on a camping trip and can't be reached by cell phone. It's having to minimize exposure to your own children, which means they are helping each other with their meals and the 11-year-old is putting the 8-year-old to bed at night. It's the internal battle of wanting someone to blame but knowing that won't solve anything. It's holding your breath every day to hear if anyone you love is having symptoms. It's that sinking feeling when you learn your dad is running a fever. It's even being careful not to pet your cat because you hear cats can get it, too.
If you ask me how I'm feeling, I'll tell you I'm okay. I might tell you my latest symptoms. But that question can't be answered easily or fully, because despite everything, I have COVID-19 and whatever health implications may accompany that. I unknowingly exposed loved ones to COVID-19. I may have brought it into our home and put my children at risk. Pray for us, and pray for my family. Pray for this broken country.
And wear a mask.
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