Coming down with a cold seems like life or death nowadays.
About a week ago my throat started feeling sore and my head started to hurt. Immediately paranoia set in and my brain turned to thoughts of the worst— the possibility that I was coming down with COVID-19.
Within a few hours, my nose was starting to clog up and the soreness in my throat had turned to a steady itch, but I forced myself not to give in and cough. I couldn’t stand the thought of me or my family coming down with what I had already decided was coronavirus.
That night I fought the urge to hack my lungs up, weaving in and out of restless sleep. The thing about hearing constant news about COVID-19 killing people, is that when you’re really sick, there’s that thought in the back of your mind that you might not make it.
I woke up the next day, with heavy itchy lungs and there was no choice but to give in to the fits of coughing. My body ached and I felt so lethargic I did not move from my bed all day except to go to the bathroom a few times. It was highly unbearable to be conscious, so I took to catching up on some much-needed rest.
I had to wear a mask inside, even while sleeping because although they are vaccinated, my parents are in a semi-venerable age group having just celebrated their 50th birthday. I had no idea what I would do if one of them got sick despite the vaccine and didn’t live through it.
I felt a little better the third day, even on little sleep, and felt well enough to drive to the CVS COVID-19 testing site in Watsonville and do a nasal swab test. If you’ve ever been tested for COVID you know that you have to stick the swab super far up your nose and rotate it three times on both sides- it’s super uncomfortable and makes you feel like you have to sneeze.
I waited three agonizing days for the test result and was sure that it was going to say that I was positive for COVID-19 and confirm all of the horrendous panic thoughts that had been racing through my mind. At last, I got an email saying my result was ready, and I should log onto MYCHART, an app that shows COVID results at a number of testing sites.
I logged in with bated breath, convinced I was going to see the dreaded message that would tell me I had let my and my family’s safety become compromised. I felt like I could cry out of sheer relief as I stared at the only word that mattered to me on the screen— “negative.”
That cold had knocked me on my butt and was one of the worst ones I have ever been through, but it was just that— a cold. COVID paranoia is a real thing, and my guess is that it will follow us for a while. It ain’t over yet. The memory of this pandemic is sure to be one that is not easily forgotten, nor should it.
Still, I hope that someday a cold will just be a cold again.