A Cold Brush with Doom

CDC.gov

“In hard times, we learn something incredibly precious: 

The fist of the universe can hit us anywhere, anytime."

― Mehmet Murat ildan

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

Monday was in all respects a normal kind of day.  Nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I certainly felt fine.  Well, ordinary anyway.  But when I awoke Tuesday morning, nothing was normal.  

I noticed it first when I tried to get out of bed.  I felt a little dizzy, but I wrote that off to allergies.  As is my custom, I fixed breakfast for my mother-in-law, then headed out the door to begin my regular walk.  As soon as I cleared the carport roof and I was hit by the strong tropical sunlight, it hit me.  A wave of weakness and fatigue, along with a fresh round of dizziness communicated that my regular 5-miler was not happening that day.  I went back inside and reclined on the couch.  I had a backlog of programs on the DVR, so I intended to amuse myself thus for awhile.  I thought that this was just a temporary thing that would pass in a short period of time, but I was wrong.  As the day went on, I felt ever worse.  I fell asleep several times, and except for getting Mom her lunch, stayed there for the balance of the day.  

Cheryl made some of her killer delicious chicken soup, and I felt a little better, but the process of showering completely wiped me out.

Wednesday morning was worse.  I had no energy for anything, and the dizziness began to upset my stomach.  I called my Doctor and he told me to go immediately to the lung clinic downtown.  We drove there and I went in.  The current pandemic protocols required Cheryl to wait outside, which made her a little angry.  Once inside, the process was the epitome of efficiency.  Inside of 30 minutes, I had my vitals taken, my H&P completed, and had a long and searching conversation with a pulmonologist.  Once he concluded that this wasn't cardiac-related (I have five stents in there), I was given a nasal swab for flu and COVID-19.  The flu swab came back negative, but I would have to wait until Thursday morning to get the other results.

So, we hung out downtown until the rush hour had cleared, getting some dinner in the process, before coming home.  Cheryl was sure I didn't have the virus.  At least that's what she said.  But I could tell she was worried, nonetheless.  

For the balance of the evening, I thought long and hard about what a diagnosis of COVID-19 would do to my life.  First of all, I was mostly worried about if I had given this thing to Cheryl.  She is the most important person in my universe, and getting her infected would have been devastating.  Also, she works in the OR at Tripler AMC and the revelation that she had been exposed would have created a logistical problem of nightmare proportions.  My mother-in-law is 93, and thus lies in the most vulnerable of demographics.  If I had inadvertently given her this thing, I would never forgive myself.   I work in a 24/7 watch center along with about 15 other people.  If they had been exposed, it would have meant quarantine for all.  The watch center, called the State Warning Point, would have been left completely vacated which would have been a catastrophic situation for the State Emergency Management Agency.  Then, all the people I had been in contact with would have been exposed, and required to be tested, including the elderly folks who attend my church.

And, of course, I would have been placed in quarantine, if not the hospital, for at least 14 days or until I was well.  It felt like a prison sentence.

I didn't sleep well that night, and after several dark nightmares, woke early.  Cheryl's sister had taken Mom home with her until my situation was resolved, so I alone in the house accompanied only by my darkest fears.

Then, about 7:30 AM, I saw that a new message had landed in the app for my doctor...system.  Without waiting, I opened the message which took me to the folder for test results.  There, to my tremendous relief were the magic words:  "Covid-19 test:  Negative."  The lung center called about an hour later to confirm, after which I passed the good word on to all involved.  I still felt weak and woozy, but the thing I feared the worst had passed.

During this Pandemic, I have been a bit cavalier about the risk.  I do wear a mask when I'm around people for any length of time, but not when I'm exercising because (1) I'm always alone, and (2) I don't want to die of CO2 poisoning.  But even with my daily exposure with the pandemic through my duties at work, I had never really considered what would happen if I had contracted the disease.  That contemplation was one of those moments that took me completely out of the box I had been living in and showed what the effect one sick person can have, and how much additional sickness that person can generate.  It was not a pretty picture.  

I don't think any of us really appreciate the circle of effect we have on those around us, especially those we don't know and may never know.  In a good sense, there is the life lesson that was Frank Capra's classic "It's a Wonderful Life."  But there is a dark side to the influence we can have that must never be ignored.  That's probably the most sobering lesson of this Pandemic.  We discover that in addition to our own lives, we share a stewardship over other lives, in some cases complete strangers.  None of us exist in a vacuum, although we'd like to think we do.  Every choice we make, every act we undertake has consequences far beyond the horizon of our perceptions.  Whether those consequences are good or evil is strictly up to us.  

A Pandemic tends to drive people's attentions inward, away from the world at large.  But as we understand more about the Novel Coronavirus and the mechanisms of its spread, it should widen our awareness, not restrict it.  If we can make that leap, if we can look at life as the expression of all, then perhaps...just perhaps...we will have taken a big step towards finally becoming a human family.