A close encounter with the sneaky enemy
While the world continues to fight a sly and invisible enemy called coronavirus, day after day the media doles out data, ranging from the number of patients, the doubling rate, the recovery rate and whether or not the curve is being flattened. But statistics don’t reveal the real picture.
After all, there is a story behind each case in this daily bombardment of numbers that we, more often than not, choose to overlook. The whole world seems to be numbed by the rapid and almost effortless spread of the virus across nations and different strata of society.
I’m a doctor and was taking all precautions such as wearing an N-95 mask, a face shield, a surgical cap, a pair of disposable gloves, repeated use of the hand sanitiser, and changing my clothes after coming home from the hospital. I knew of the way coronavirus spreads and had assembled an impressive armory to protect myself. I managed to remain calm and composed though worried even as the number of Covid-19 cases surged.
But all this changed one evening a few days ago. It was 4pm when I was woken up from my siesta by a call from the hospital where I worked. The sister on duty informed me that the old woman I had seen in my OPD three days ago with symptoms of depression had tested Covid-19 positive.
It was a bolt from the blue. My heart raced and the brain was numb. I tried to rewind the moments spent with the patient. Had I touched her? I hadn’t. Had I maintained a safe distance? Yes, I had. Was I in the protective gear? Yes, I was. And then a cold realisation dawned. The hospital OPD card! I had written the prescription on it. I had taken the card from the patient and handed it back after writing the prescription on it. So, I did have a contact with the patient.
I had to undergo the test for coronavirus. Soon after my sample was taken, I noticed that my colleagues, including the nurses, who would otherwise have greeted me warmly, seemed to be consciously avoiding me. This was the first disconcerting change. I felt ostracised for no fault of mine.
Now, the wait for the report started. It could take three to five days, owing to the rush of samples waiting to be tested. The wait seemed to stretch to eternity. What if I tested positive? Would I have to be admitted to the Covid-19 facility for two to three weeks? Would I recover? What if I developed complications? My state of mind ranged from worry to apprehension to morbid fear. Optimism was conspicuously absent.
Fortunately, I had the support of my family and a couple of close friends during this difficult time.
The report came in the form of another phone call from the hospital, saying that I had tested negative. I said a prayer in gratitude and heaved a sigh of relief.
I learnt a few important lessons from this close brush with coronavirus. First, it’s only your family and close friends who stand by you in a crisis. Second, the daily stresses of life are minuscule as compared to the pandemic.
I emerged stronger and complete.
AFTER THE SAMPLE WAS TAKEN, MY COLLEAGUES, WHO WOULD’VE OTHERWISE GREETED ME WARMLY, STARTED AVOIDING ME