As a full-time employee at a consulting firm, frequent traveler, and mother to four energetic boys, exhaustion is a constant companion. So, when I began feeling unusually fatigued and somewhat unwell last Saturday, I didn’t think much of it. Sure, I had a runny nose—typical for allergy season—and a headache that I tried to alleviate with ibuprofen. While I watched news coverage of the COVID-19 outbreak in Europe, I couldn’t help but worry about our family in Ireland and our upcoming trip home in May. I prepared for a business trip the following day while keeping an eye on reports of COVID-19 cases in Denver, my destination.
By Monday morning, a sore throat joined my list of ailments. Despite feeling under the weather, I boarded my flight since I had no fever or cough. Upon landing in Colorado, however, the meeting I was supposed to attend felt uncertain. By Tuesday night, I was feeling quite ill, and the meeting was canceled. I returned home on Wednesday, making sure to use hand sanitizer and avoid contact with anyone.
The next morning, I visited my doctor, who ruled out flu and strep throat but suggested I get tested for COVID-19.
When I woke up that Friday, the world had changed dramatically. Schools were closing, travel bans were enacted, and countries across Europe were entering lockdown. I called the state hotline, where I was advised to seek testing based on my symptoms. They directed me to a local hospital, but I soon found myself lost in a web of confusion, receiving at least five different contact numbers—from the Baltimore County Public Health hotline (which was closed for the weekend) to a hospital number that just kept ringing. All the while, my coughing fits intensified.
Finally, my doctor called on Sunday night with news of mobile testing at a nearby hospital. I arrived the next morning at 8:30 AM. A large tent set up for testing loomed ahead, surrounded by medical personnel in protective gear reminiscent of a scene from the movie Outbreak. When I cut my engine, an older man in a trench coat approached my car. I rolled down my window but was interrupted by a coughing fit, causing him to jump back in alarm.
He asked if I had an appointment, to which I replied no, explaining my doctor’s order. He instructed me to wait, spinning around dramatically and announcing, “This is not a drill, people!”
A doctor in full protective gear approached twenty minutes later with a slip of paper and instructions to call a specific number to schedule my appointment for testing. Unfortunately, the line was busy for 45 minutes. While I coughed in the car, a nurse handed me a bottle of water. After another twenty minutes, I called again, and they advised me to head to the ER. But I was already at the testing site!
Echoing my mother’s voice, who always told me, “there’s always a way to make it possible,” I decided to return to the testing site. The doctor, frustrated with the unclear process, took my driver’s license and my number before disappearing into the shipping container.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang. The hotline was calling! They screened me and agreed that I should be tested, transferring me to registration, where they collected my information and instructed me to get tested. At this point, I was in tears. The stress of worrying about my family, feeling ill, and navigating the testing chaos was overwhelming.
Once I arrived at the testing area, I parked and called another number. A nurse verified my details and instructed me to move forward. She approached my car, leaned down, and performed the test—a cotton swab deep enough in my nose that it felt like it touched my brain. Tears streamed down my face, but finally, it was over.
As I drove away, the nurses made the sign of the cross, and the doctor formed a heart shape with her hands, reminiscent of Taylor Swift. I smiled, reminded of the dedication of our healthcare workers; indeed, “Not all heroes wear capes.”
I left with instructions to self-isolate for four to five days while awaiting my results. I hope for a positive outcome so my family remains healthy. The government needs to expedite testing and provide clearer guidance to help quell the rising panic surrounding the virus.
However, I later discovered that my anxiety was just beginning. After a week of self-isolation, stress-induced insomnia, and keeping my young children at a distance, I was overjoyed to learn that I tested negative for COVID-19! I had never been so relieved to have bronchitis in my life!
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In summary, my COVID-19 testing experience was a chaotic journey filled with uncertainty, but I ultimately emerged with a negative result. It serves as a reminder of the resilience we can find in troubling times, as well as the importance of our healthcare professionals.