A Journal of the Pandemic #22

Hey, so I took a COVID-19 test this week.

Yeah. First time. Last weekend I was sick. It wasn’t a bad cold. It wasn’t even a particularly different one, for me. It actually seemed to be pretty easy to get over (except for this wonderful lingering cough I’ve got). 

But it was a cold, in the pandemic era. Of course I thought COVID-19. Actually, just before the pandemic blew up I had my other cold of the year. Didn’t get tested for that one, obviously.

This time I didn’t think there was much choice. The very strange thing I discovered is that it’s still hard to get tested. Here it is nearly 2021 and you’d think that after nearly a year of this it’d be, you know, easier to get tested.

Well, in my experience, it was not. Finally on Tuesday I got tested. I thought it was going to be one of the rapid results tests, but it wasn’t. I was told I might not hear results until, well, today. I didn’t expect to hear anything yesterday, but that’s actually when the computer system told me: negative. As great a Christmas present as there ever was, I suppose.

I did get a call today, by the way. 

I spent the week isolating at home, except that trip Tuesday to get tested. I mean, it’s not that hard for me, and even easier in pandemic time, with libraries closed or as good as. If nothing else I would’ve gone there, with extra time. Anyway, so that was my week. 

I got some writing done. I read. I watched stuff. Mostly, though, I thought about actually having COVID-19. Because my symptoms were minor, I mostly thought about anyone I might have potentially infected before last weekend. I mean, I’m good at wearing a mask at work. That’s when Mogo socializes (comic book reference). But you never know. That’s the whole point of isolating, once there’s doubt. 

I spent a lot of time during this pandemic not really thinking about actually being infected, and then I got sick, and it turns out it wasn’t COVID-19, but suddenly it was a very different experience. 

So yeah, that happened.