I had a bit of a cough on Wednesday, they noticed it in our Toastmasters meeting. Then on Thursday I was running a fever. So on Friday morning (the first available slot) I walked three miles in the rain to the East Brighton Park testing centre, a big white tent with lights and a few tables. When I got there, the girl in front of me had forgotten her ID and was sent home, so I was the only “customer” at the centre and was sent right in. A nurse brought me to a table with a mirror and a kit. Asked me to swab my tonsils for ten seconds with the Q-tip from the kit, making sure not to touch my tongue. That’s harder then it sounds and it took me a couple of tries. Then I had to spin it in my nostril for fifteen seconds. When I sneezed another nurse joked “that’s how we know you did it correctly.” 28 hours later they texted me my results… POSITIVE. A week after the vaccine is released and almost nine months of mask wearing self isolating caution, I’ve got COVID. Can’t fucking believe it.
Luckily we are both feeling ok. If I didn’t have the test results I’d think it was just a cold. The worst part will be the contact tracing. I’ve checked my card statements and found twelve businesses I need to put on the tracing form. Hopefully Martin, the young artist we almost purchased a poster from on the sea shore Thursday, won’t be too put off.
So now the wife and I have to quarantine for 10 days. That means cancelling Christmas Eve dinner reservations. That means no going out shopping for more presents. That means Jennifer couldn’t work yesterday, and can’t work tomorrow or on Boxing day. Perfect fucking ending to a perfectly fucked year.
2020
