So, I am positive for COVID-19. My mother, whom I am sure is the person who infected me, came back negative. We tested together. Same technician. Same time. We have the same symptoms although she came down with hers two days earlier. One of us got a false result.
We’ve been told to assume we’re both positive.
So. Fun with bodies.
Both of us have symptoms of an annoying cold: not particularly bad, but just enough to be inconvenient. We don’t have fevers, trouble breathing or chest pain. Nor have we lost our sense of smell or taste.
I have spent all day trying to get results and then trying to contact Primary Care Physicians — hers and mine. It’s a good thing I don’t feel bad. It’s been pretty annoying. When one is told they have the plague, one expects to get the attention of medical personnel.
I’m sitting here thinking of all the things I should do to prepare for the possibility that I might get really sick. You know, like pack a hospital bag. Make sure I’m stocked up on pet food. Etc. I’m a tad overwhelmed by it all.
I have a strong feeling that this is going to be a mild case and I will convalesce at home. Of course, yesterday I had a strong feeling that this was a tempest in a teapot.
Of greater concern is my mom — she is right smack in the middle of the high risk category for a bad case. I’ll be watching her closely.
I really didn’t need this right now. Nope.