So I got a Covid-19 test and let’s face it, it’s as easy as saying Agh!
AS the season announced itself with gusto on the last weekend of August, I caught a chill. And yes it multiplied. I’ll spare you the ups and downs of my illness but as I had a fever and sweated out the equivalent of Rafa Nadal after a five-setter in a US Open final I felt duty bound to call my doctor to alert him that I had at least one Covid symptom, or might have. (A quick Google and it transpired I didn’t but better safe than sorry).
Having been told to self isolate for 48 hours I returned to my couch and proceeded to enjoy a day of complete do-nothingness. ‘Lazy wonder’ is what The Whirlwind Wonder of a daughter of mine calls the meditative practise and I became so proficient at it that day that I declared the following morning that I would never indulge in it again, such was my natural talent at ennui.
I ventured out into the garden on that second day and cleaned the house. I read the Sunday paper and made a fancy dinner and got quite a bit done.
The next morning, after some questions to my doctor as to the symptoms and their Covidness, I was advised to get a test ‘although I most likely didn’t have it.’
I was told it would happen that day or the following day and to expect a text message alerting me to the time and venue.
Being deadline day I knew the text – if it did land at any time before the 7 p.m. cut off – would cause potentially massive anxiety so I tipped off the editors that I could be pulling a Harry Houdini at some point.
Just after lunch the text did land and I had my appointment, for two hours later!
After some frantic phone calls and typing and a few white lies as to my inability to take calls and stay on the phone for long, I headed off for my secret appointment, half
excited, half anxious.
As I pulled in to the test centre I realised I was the only one there. A lovely lady dressed in PPE, handed me some PPE for myself and told me to blow my nose into a tissue and place it in a plastic bag big enough to contain Andre the Giant.
I was told to drive into the hanger and as I did any fear I had of nauseating swabbery dissipated. Friendly female healthcare workers bearing clipboards chatted and one pealed away and met me at my window.
Having pretty much been told to pull down my mask to my chin and say Agh, I opened my gob and the swab was placed down my throat and before I knew it that part was over. The smiling healthcare worker informed me that I’d have my result within 24 hours and wished me a lovely evening.
In terms of time it took less than order
ing a McDonald’s at the drive through and as for inconvenience, well there’s nothing more important than health so work were very accommodating, as all employers are.
Now that we are more than six months into the pandemic, there is a rush to apportion blame to various people in society. Last week it was our youths, (in fact most weeks it’s them). Before them it was tourists.
Combined with this social divide and conquer dynamic there is a stigma surrounding Covid-19 which needs to be dispelled.
I believe there has been far too little public debate on our airwaves about many key issues, including mask wearing. The same experts and faces are trotted out and we’re left none the wiser.
It is all our responsibility to be vigilant, act according to the medical advice and get tested and if we have the virus follow the contact tracing advice.