COVID-19 test easy to get – for top athletes
Whenever major college and professional sports resume, testing for COVID-19 will be as much a part of an athlete’s day as taped ankles and stretching.
For them, a test will be as easy to get as a fresh pair of socks.
For you and me, however, the pursuit of a COVID-19 test remains a time-consuming, aggravating test of patience and resolve that can involve standing in the sun, ant bites, long waits at home and in the car and hours away from work.
At least that was my experience this week.
Our politicians tell us there are plenty of tests available, that anyone seeking one can get it. What they don’t say is
that nothing about the process is easy. At least it wasn’t for me.
My adventure started late Wednesday afternoon when a family member called to say he might have been exposed over the weekend. Someone he spent time with was experiencing COVID-19 symptoms, and since the family member and I had been together for a short time on Monday, he thought I should know.
I wondered what I should do?
I could wait for others to be tested, but that was going to take days. I had places to go and people I had seen.
I had dinner at the home of friends on Tuesday. The four of us maintained some social distance, which I used as an excuse to get out of helping with the dishes, but I was close enough to infect them if I had the virus.
And with two weeks of furlough and vacation starting this weekend, I planned to leave town for cooler weather.
It was quickly obvious that I needed to get tested, preferably with a “rapid” test that would give me results in hours.
I had no idea what I was getting into. I started with a call to the family doctor, but the practice doesn’t offer tests. I could try a facility near 16th Street and Bethany Home, they said, but someone who lives near there told me there was usually a long line for tests.
A call to another doctor’s office yielded the same answer
Via a Google search, it looked like the easiest way was to visit an urgent care center. I called a couple, which looking back, was naïve. These days, getting through to urgent care facilities and the state unemployment office is like winning the lottery.
So, I drove to one, put on my mask, entered and asked if there were testing. No tests, I was told.
I drove to another. Also, no tests. I asked if I could make an appointment for the next morning.
No, I was told, but I could make a “reservation.”
I didn’t ask the difference between a reservation and an appointment, and it wasn’t clear if they did rapid testing. So I drove home and hit the Internet again.
I found a facility near State Farm Stadium, about 15 minutes from my house, that had rapid tests. It opened at 8 a.m. on Thursday. Reasoning that calling for information would be a waste of time, I decided to arrive there early.
When I pulled in at 7:20, 40 minutes before the doors were scheduled to open, there were at least 50 people in front of me, lined up along the edge of the large complex, properly spaced.
And that’s where I spent the next two hours, seeking the occasional bit of shade in the 100-plus degree temperatures, swatting the occasional ants that crawled on my legs, and hoping the facility actually had rapid results tests.
There was no way to tell. The only sign out front told patients with COVID symptoms to not enter the waiting room, to call the number below.
The employees were busy screening patients. Asking them questions would take them away from that and only slow the whole process.
More people arrived. Some stopped near the front of the line to ask where the line ended. See down there, they were told, that grass berm about three football fields away?
Shoulders slumped, they trudged in that direction.
Near the front doors, two employees screened my fellow test seekers. But no one seemed to ever go inside. Were they doing tests? Did we all wait in line for nothing?
Almost exactly two hours after I arrived, it was finally my turn. Name. Insurance card. Phone number.
“We’re really backed up,” the nice person said. “If you live close, go home and someone will call you in two hours. The first call will be someone asking about your medical history. The second call will be telling you to return here. Wait in your car. And someone will call you when it’s your turn to be tested.”
“But,” I asked nervously, “you do have rapid tests?”
“Yes,” she assured me.
I went home. Two hours passed. Three hours. At close to the four-hour mark, another nice person called to ask a few questions about my medical history. And she told me it was a good idea to return to the facility. You don’t want to get skipped, she said.
No, I did not.
So, I drove like I was late for the kickoff to a Cardinals game and found a shady place to park and wait. And wait. And wait. An hour into the wait, I went to the front door and got someone’s attention.
“How much longer?” I asked. “The guys just in front of me in line this morning left 45 minutes ago. Are you sure I’m on the list?”
“Yes,” he said, “you’re on the list. Just return to your car.”
Thirty minutes later, they called and said wait outside a side door. Fifteen minutes later, another nice person dressed in gown and mask called my name. I felt like I had been chosen first in a pickup game.
After verifying my name and birthdate and taking my temperature, the nice person said she was going to swab my nose.
I had heard horror stories that made this sound like when we pithed frogs in eighth grade. But it wasn’t bad, just far enough up the nose to cause tears. Maybe 90 seconds after I entered the room, it was over.
“You might get the results today,” the nice lady said, “but more likely tomorrow.”
It was 3 p.m. I returned home to work, thankful that I have health insurance and a job that doesn’t chain me to a desk or laptop.
Two hours later, another nice person called with the results.
“You’re negative,” she said.
I was tempted to say that’s what a lot of readers tell me. Instead, I just said thanks.
And I am thankful. Also concerned. A couple family members seeking tests took different paths and are still waiting for the results.
I could take the time required to get tested. I have insurance. I’m healthy enough to wait a couple of hours in line. My work is flexible. I didn’t have to get someone to watch the kids. Many others aren’t so fortunate. A lot of things in life are hard; getting tested for COVID-19 shouldn’t be one of them.
It would be nice, just this once, if we all were treated with the same urgency as elite athletes.
HILTON HEAD ISLAND, S.C. – Webb Simpson managed only one birdie on the back nine Saturday at Harbour Town, and that was just enough for him to post a 3-under 68 and join a four-way share of the lead at the RBC Heritage.
It sets up another Sunday of endless possibilities on the PGA Tour.
Tyrrell Hatton of England had one of six rounds at 63 as he tries to win backto-back starts for the second time in his year. The other occasion was in 2017 in Scotland and Italy. This time it would be three months apart due to the COVID-19 pandemic that shut down golf.
Abraham Ancer rode his strong iron play to a 65, while Ryan Palmer had a 66 to join the lead at 15-under 198.
Carlos Ortiz, who started this tournament with two double bogeys after playing only five holes, suddenly has a chance to grab his first PGA Tour victory after two eagles in a round of 63. He was one shot behind, along with Colonial winner Daniel Berger and Joel Dahmen, both with 63s.
A week ago at the Charles Schwab Challenge, 14 players were separated by three shots going into the final round. This week at Hilton Head, 21 players are separated by three shots.
And there was more testing than usual. Players and caddies on the charter flight to Connecticut for next week’s event have to take a saliva test for the coronavirus before they can get on the plane. Eleven others had testing Friday night because they were deemed to have been in close contact with Nick Watney, whose positive test on Friday was the first in golf ’s return.
Among them was Sergio Garcia, who flew with Watney from Austin, Texas. The initial test was negative. Garcia was nervous as he waited for the result, though not so nervous he couldn’t put down a 65 to join the chase. He was two shots behind, along with Ian Poulter and Joaquin Niemann.
Bryson DeChambeau, starting the day one shot behind, hit his approach into the par-5 second in the trees and it never came down. He has added 40 pounds of mass, still not enough to uproot the tree and shake it loose. That led to a bogey, and more damaging was no birdies on the back nine for a 70.
Even so, he remained three shots behind in a group that included Dustin Johnson, who birdied three of his last four holes to go from around the middle of the pack to 12-under 201, three shots behind and very much in the picture. That’s all it took Saturday, and it likely won’t be any different in the final round.
Brooks Koepka quietly posted a 68 and was in the group three shots behind.
Chalk it up to June, a new date for the RBC Heritage because of the pandemic. The tournament usually is the week after the Masters in April, when the temperature is slightly cooler, the greens are firmer and the rye grass has been taken over by Bermuda. It’s soft. And these are the best players in the world, all of them eager to get back to work.
A year ago, Johnson was the only player at double digits under par (10 under) going into the final round. This year, 35 players were at 10 under or better.
The six rounds at 63 marked the third time since October that at least six players shot 63 in a round. There were seven such rounds at the RSM Classic in November, about 80 miles down the Atlantic coast at Sea Island.
“I think we’ve all had enough notice to try and get ready to play tournaments again,” said Hatton, who rented a house in Orlando, Florida, during the stay-at-home mandate. “So it’s not massively surprising to see guys playing as well as they are, and hopefully the guys at home are enjoying it, watching on TV.”