Self-Isolation

So we’ve been doing the social distancing thing for a while, but this week I came down with symptoms. Started with aches, dry cough tiredness. Then the fever – 101.4 then 102.7.

I called the doctor thinking I would be able to get a COVID-19 test. Now that, you know, we’re winning at COVID. But no. She asked me if I had had the flu vaccine (I had – the whole family did), and then gave me directions to get a drive through flu test.

So I drive into the nearest location, and it’s eery. I spent the entire night sweating through bedsheets and coughing all over my husband and woke up entirely disoriented. I imagined myself to be the guy from 28 Days Later, waking up from a coma to see the world post zombie apocalypse.

But there were other cars on the road. Lots of things closed down. Things were quiet. I called two people to confirm that I wasn’t hallucinating, that this was, in fact, happening to our world.

And the answer is yes.

Or I now have tactile and auditory hallucinations. Which might, at this point, be preferable.

So I drive up and there is a big sign to Not Roll Down My Window. I am directed to hold up my drivers license. Through the shut window I shout the name of my doctor. A separate nurse comes out decked in a N95 mask and goggles and takes a nose swap.

A couple hours later I get the call. It’s not the flu. I am directed to stay at home and avoid people.

In some ways this is not a problem. I have been practicing for this moment my entire life.

I cannot, apparently, get the COVID-19 test because I am “young and healthy”. This is one time that hearing “41” as “young” does not warm my heart. I want to know.

But, the world has other plans.

So now my space is shrunken to the master bedroom and bathroom, and the front and back porch. Luckily I love the porch.

The worst part is not being able to hug the kids.

My husband is like ON the plague protocol thing. Anytime something gets delivered to the house, he puts on medical gloves, takes the outside packaging off in the garage and discards it, and then sanitizes with wipes the inner boxes. He has instituted the protocol that if I walk through the house, I wear a face mask, I hand sanitize regularly, and I’m basically banned from doing anything in the house. On the upside, he has been amazing bringing me things. On the downside, I feel like crap, and he was always great at taking care of me.

Meanwhile this feels like the flu that will not end. I spent a great deal of Thursday morning (or was it Wednesday?) laying on my back on the bathroom floor. The cough medicine and Tylenol help, but my whole body hurts like sandpaper and I feel like I have sweated out the entire Dead Sea. I change PJs three times a night, and rotate from one side of the bed to the other. Today (about 5 days in), I believe my fever broke, but I won’t really know until tonight.

Meanwhile, we let the neighbors know. They were great about it. I just wish people would take it seriously. I’m a relatively healthy person. In fact, medically I’m apparently “young and healthy” (who knew). And this is Kicking My Ass.

Be careful out there,

Socially Distant Mom.