Those persistent, disruptive coughing bouts were the most glaring sign. Those moments when I had to take in more air and breathe with little discomfort in my chest were already a takeaway. And those mild fever spells, which immediately disappear when I take paracetamol were the biggest red flag of them all. And yet, I played down my symptoms, believing they were something else.
On the day I arrived at the Weatherman's unoccupied house in Cavite, I started losing my sense of smell, and then my tastebuds also started to fail me the next day. Then the uncontrolled bowel movement soon followed. By Saturday, the day after I learned of my real condition, the list of all the common symptoms was at last, present.
At home, they were frantic about the condition of the Matriarch. She was one of the most exposed, being my close contact. Another close contact was asked to quarantine in our old house in Santa Mesa and this setup leaves the house more vulnerable than it has ever been before. The Brother-in-Law, sensing our state of disarray, had decided to stay over and help look after his children. His presence somehow gave us a sense of relief and order was restored to a house that has never seen a crisis of this magnitude.
Closer to the front, I started contemplating about my fate. The guilt and shame that comes with being the afflicted break you into pieces. You begin to feel anxious about your 74-year old mother; the children at home who were unvaccinated; you look at the Weatherman taking care of you, who just assumed his Covid status since he didn't take the test, and see the mess you have unleashed upon the world. In consolation, the Favorite Aunt, who is also the family doctor, said it was nobody's fault; that it was bound to happen sooner than we all think. Despite this being a lie, I try to keep her thoughts in heart while my mind drifts from one doomsday picture to another. By nightfall of Saturday, on my second night in quarantine, the chest pains were more pronounced, like my lungs were being filled with concrete, that thoughts of being rushed to the hospital became a real possibility. But I had no way of measuring my oxygen saturation so I wouldn't know.
Meanwhile, another aunt who was checking up on me confided that her daughter, a first cousin, were also showing symptoms similar to mine. She would take the test that weekend and would later find out she is Covid positive as well.
That's two in the family in a week, and we have not even seen each other in ages.
No comments:
Post a Comment