Feeling sick? Be like my family, get tested for COVID
My 6-year-old is almost always happily engaged doing 6-year-old things.
But this day? She was sitting in the shade. Her eyes were a shade of glassy. She sneezed. I asked her if she felt OK.
“My nose is a little drippy and my throat feels a little weird,” she said.
One thought popped into my head. It’s hard to put into words exactly, but I’ll try: CORONA THREAT LEVEL ORANGE —- MAN THE BATTLESTATIONS —- I REPEAT —- CORONA THREAT LEVEL ORANGE.
This was the first time since the coronavirus crashed on our shores that anyone in my family has exhibited any symptoms of anything. Things spiraled pretty quickly from here. I got her home, called my wife - or, in this “battlestation” scenario, the Chief General Admiral Lady In Charge - who called our pediatrician who said come in tomorrow and then Chief General Admiral Lady called MedExpress Urgent Care in Ewing and next thing you know a nurse named Daisy - who may or may not be an honest-to-goodness saint - had a Q-tip up my schnozz and just like that the Not-Swiss Family Edelstein had their first coronavirus tests.
OK. First things first: The tests came back negative, but honestly, that’s not the important part.
The important part is this: After the test, I felt like I did my civic duty. I felt like I should’ve gotten a sticker, like you do after you give blood. We had one person in our family who exhibited some ridiculously soft symptoms, so we went ahead and got ourselves tested.
The test itself was easy-breezy covergirl. Daisy the Saint - the way she spoke to my children to allay any fear of the dreaded Q-tip was nothing short of miraculous, hence the “saint” designation (and seriously - whoever is in charge of writing Daisy’s checks, it’s time for a raise) - came on over to the car, explained what was going to happen, and then went ahead and did it.
That’s right - came to our car. We stayed outside, the doctors and nurses came to us.
How did it feel? Like someone put a Q-tip in my nose and swirled it around for a few seconds. Zero pain, a little tickly, and just far enough up there that it triggered that peppery sensation that comes on before you sneeze.
And that was that on the testing front. A doctor examined my daughter, said she would be “shocked” if this was corona. Then we picked up some Popeye’s for dinner, and we were back home before you can say “how quick does that test come back?”
And while we waited for those results (which took less than 24 hours to come back)? My wife and I socially distanced if we needed to go out - and masked to a fault - and we kept the kids home because it’s just easier.
Pain in the butt, the testing and the staying home and all that? Of course, But it was the right thing to do. And if everyone who exhibits a whiff of symptoms does the same you know, get tested and chill out until the results come back - we can go a long way to making sure we don’t have community flareups now, or in the future. I don’t know about you, but locking down again - this time, in the middle of winter does not hold any attraction for me.
So yeah. I hate masks. I hate social distancing. I hate having Qtips stuck up my nose, no matter how awesome the nurse is. But you know what? I hate lockdowns more.
Listen: By spring, one way or another, this is going to be over. Either we’re going to have a vaccine (yay!), a highly effective treatment (yay!), herd immunity (yay!) or none of the above (boo!), but if that’s the case, it’s going to be shrugging-shoulders-emoji time and life will go on.
But for now? While we wait? We know our governor - love him or hate him - isn’t afraid to put the kibosh on daily life. If you want things to continue getting better, then do your part. Mask up, and when that little tickle in the throat pops up, test up. Tell Daisy I sent you.
POSTSCRIPT: Some 48 hours later, my two other kids had the same symptoms, but worse. Back for the test. No Daisy, alas, but everything went fine. Some 18 hours later, results were back. Negative. Carry on.