I tested positive for Covid- 19 yesterday.
It’s a strange feeling – after two years of having avoided Covid and (largely speaking) taken all reasonable precautions as per the Government and NHS advice etc. – to suddenly wake up one morning and find that one has succumbed to it.
I have to be honest, my first reaction was a wave of disbelief (e.g. what if the test equipment was faulty and/or had given a false result?) – but then later, having heard anecdotal stories from my brother and friends of their own brushes with the virus, I relaxed somewhat and began investigating what exactly I needed to do to “sort myself” and also protect others.
When could I have picked it up – and where?
Last Wednesday (8th June) I went to a pub lunch with four others not far from Birmingham – it sees as though, when you catch Covid it may take 3 to 5 days before it makes itself known.
On Saturday I joined a mate in Brighton – travelling there and back by train and then bus – in order to watch the Premiership Semi-Final rugby match between Saracens and Harlequins together on TV. I wore a facemask on the train and indeed on the bus from the station (both ways) and sensed nothing untoward at all.
It all began on Tuesday afternoon.
For some reason my nose began to run and I found myself needing to blow it now and again during the course of the afternoon.
However, I didn’t feel unwell in the remotest and indeed I went out for a brisk five mile walk at 4.00pm in the surrounding countryside, returning shortly after 5.45pm.
Back home I had a beer and an evening bite to eat and then retired to bed about 9.00pm. I immediately found myself feeling cold – as if I had caught a chill.
By the time I rose again at 2.30am for my “wee hours” day shift at the computer, I was sniffling like a good ‘un.
Then, for want of anything to do and still 90 minutes until I had to walk the dogs, I began looking for my son’s correspondence box file … and came across a box of home “Covid test” equipment.
Inevitably, I decided to test myself – and after the statutory 15 minutes wait – up came the “little box” with two red lines upon it – meaning that I had tested positive!
Immediately I reported myself to She Who Must be Obeyed (upstairs in bed having her “beauty sleep”), by both WhatsApp and then a phone call.
The gist of her response (after the initial shock) was “Stay Where You Are And Don’t Move!”
In effect I have now been “confined to quarters” for (now the next four days) minimum.
I am being treated as a social outcast – or indeed, possibly a leper.
Some pals are comforting – “Don’t worry, it’s like nothing more than having a heavy cold for four days or so” – but still I feel a slight degree of shame at having tested positive at all.
I know one extended family member who has tested positive three times now.
Ho hum …
Life goes on.