“Jamie…you tested positive.”
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. How could this be true? If I was positive, why was everyone else in my family negative? My daughter burst into tears, my son remained quiet, and my husband insisted it must be a false positive. As I tried to grasp the situation, my mind raced. Was it even real? I had experienced a headache earlier that morning after drinking my coffee later than usual. I felt a bit achy the day before, but I attributed it to our new mattress. Oh, and my dog had seemed unwell yesterday—could he have COVID? Do dogs even catch COVID? My son had crawled into bed with me last night! But thankfully, he was negative…for now. How did I end up with COVID? Had I let my guard down? Why us? Why me?
I’ve always been a rule follower. When the pandemic began in March 2020, I was ready to quarantine with my family. I assigned my kids to disinfect doorknobs daily, washed everything in sight, and ordered reusable masks for everyone. I stocked up on Tylenol, a pulse oximeter, eight boxes of Cold-Eze, Gatorade, tissues, and a thermometer in case anyone got sick. From March to June, we stayed indoors except for masked walks in the neighborhood. As the infection rate dropped in the summer and fall, we relaxed a bit and began socializing outdoors in small groups. My kids have been enrolled in virtual school since March, and we celebrated holidays like Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Chanukah alone.
Professionally, I enforce rules as I oversee student life at a university, including Student Health Services. For the past ten months, I have been managing my institution’s COVID response. I have developed compliance policies and had to send many students home for not adhering to them. I’ve created protocols for isolating and quarantining sick and exposed students and support the required weekly testing for faculty, staff, and students.
Since working from home for nearly a year, I hadn’t been tested for COVID until I was traveling to our home in Massachusetts for the winter break. My husband and I loaded the car with ten days’ worth of supplies, our kids, and our dog before stopping for drive-through testing on the way. That’s when I found out I was positive.
We quickly turned the car around, masks on, windows down, with my daughter crying in the backseat. My husband and I puzzled over how this could happen. If I was positive, why wasn’t he? We had spent the last four days together. We thought about getting a PCR test to confirm the rapid result, wondering if it might be a false positive.
I called Lisa, the Director of Student Health Services at my university, to share the news and seek advice. We had been in constant contact since March, tackling this virus side by side. When I told her, her reaction was one of shock followed by a rapid-fire assessment of my condition and suggestions for contact tracing. She reassured me that it could be a false positive, but it also might not be. Regardless, according to the Department of Health, I had COVID.
As we drove home, I texted friends and family about my status, assuring them I felt fine. Once home, I grabbed some snacks and confined myself to the guest room.
I sat on the bed and sobbed. I have worked long hours, including weekends, since March 2020. My job is stressful normally, but these past ten months have been overwhelming. I have two young kids and a new puppy, while my husband goes to work in-person, leaving me to juggle everything at home.
I am utterly exhausted. This winter break was supposed to be my chance to unwind for the first time in almost a year. I wasn’t sure if I was crying because I’d be stuck in the guest room during my much-needed vacation, or because my kids were scared, or because I had ruined our holiday. I’m usually an upbeat person, but for the first time in a long while, I felt defeated. I was powerless to change the situation.
That first night, I spent hours frantically searching for information about COVID, trying to prepare for the next ten days. I opened the pulse oximeter and learned how to use it, took Cold-Eze every hour, and checked my temperature at least nine times.
As the days passed, I felt fortunate to remain asymptomatic. Besides the mental strain of being an extrovert isolated for ten days, I considered myself lucky. Each morning, I woke up grateful to be alive and healthy, which made me appreciate life more deeply.
I realized I needed to accept that my body and mind required this break. I’ve endured a lot this year—who hasn’t?—and maybe it was time for me to take a backseat. As I write this, my ten-year-old daughter is baking s’mores cupcakes for me. Yes, I really needed this.
Will my house look like a disaster when I finally leave the guest room? Absolutely. Will I clean obsessively for the next ten days? Of course. Will I burst out of this room like Maria on the hilltop in “The Sound of Music”? You bet. Will I appreciate my family even more once this is over? Definitely.
I’m still not sure what the lesson is here. I’ve always followed the rules, and I’m perplexed as to how I ended up in this situation. I hope everyone reading this is also adhering to the guidelines, but please remember, none of us are invulnerable. This virus can catch anyone off guard.
When the opportunity arises, I strongly encourage you to get vaccinated; you might not be as fortunate as I have been. Here’s to a much brighter 2021, filled with vaccines and countless hugs.
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Summary:
In this personal account, Jamie Parker shares her shock and confusion upon testing positive for COVID-19, despite being a diligent rule follower throughout the pandemic. She reflects on her experiences managing a high-stress job while caring for her family, the emotional toll of isolation, and the unexpected need for a break. Ultimately, she emphasizes the importance of vaccinations and urges others to stay vigilant, highlighting the unpredictable nature of the virus.
Keyphrase: COVID-19 experience
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