The Return of COVID

Just about the time you’re starting to imagine what life will be like after COVID, the virus returns with a vengeance. Yesterday morning I learned that someone at work had been exposed to someone with COVID. This person is someone who I work closely with and he was at that very moment getting a rapid test to determine if he was positive. Thirty minutes later we got the answer...yes. 

Pam and I have spent a lot of time in the last 24 hours on various governmental websites trying to sort out the impossibly complex rules and protocols of exactly what it is that I am to do. We have learned the meaning of the word close contact, and the even more problematic notion of qualifying exposure. Measuring my qualifying exposure with this close contact, we have determined that I must begin home quarantine immediately, wait five days to be tested, and then if that test is negative, I can exit quarantine after seven consecutive days have been completed in isolation as long as I have no symptoms. If I test positive the quarantine has to last either ten or fourteen days, depending on what phase the moon happens to be in on day six of the quarantine. A more nuanced reading of the rules might suggest that technically I have not even been exposed since I was never closer than six feet from the close contact for more than fifteen minutes at a time during my exposure. Of course, estimates of time and place are very subjective things and men are notoriously bad at estimating length...I’m told. So, here I am, beginning my isolation on the 19th of March, a day that promises high winds and snow flurries. Interestingly enough, my close contact got COVID from a guy who he played golf with over the weekend...someone who “doesn’t believe in the vaccine.” Beautiful. You know what I don’t believe?? I don’t believe that the impeccable comic timing of irony is a coincidence.

So, I will be confined to my home for a while, which means I will be slowly losing my mind, like Chinese water torture, wait...like going crazy one drop of water at a time over the next several days. Every body ache, sniffle, or dull throb in my head will send my imagination to places it shouldn’t go. I will be on pins and needles until I get a negative test next Monday morning. To celebrate my confinement, its time for an Irish  limerick:

There once was a man named McBride...

Who fell in an outhouse and died...

His heart broken brother

Soon fell in another

And now they are in turd side by side...