Trying to keep one step ahead of COVID-19 is like trying to frenetically duck and weave in a boxing match with Muhammad Ali. My home state of New South Wales saw numbers peak in January even though testing sites were fewer and there were plenty of people that were still desperately trying to go on holiday. It came as no surprise then that leaders tried to ease the panic that had seized the population by advocating for the results from RATs (rapid antigen testing) and to discourage testing from individuals that displayed no symptoms after a possible casual encounter.
As fatigue set in, many have given up. What’s the point of trying to keep yourself safe when it seems like all your friends have somehow contracted the virus? When will we ever return to normal and actually start earning a living? Apathy, more than anything else, has finally led to people conceding in the war of attrition against the virus.
In the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, though, being informed that you may have been a contact felt just as soul-crushing as a cancer diagnosis. I remember the call I received from a manager at work to tell me that there was a positive case at my workplace. There I was, sitting on my couch at home. Gaming. When my phone rings.
Initially, I thought it was a scam call. Or a telemarketer. These days, they seem to be favouring some place in Craigieburn, Victoria, or they ghost someone’s mobile number.
As one can imagine, I was hesitant at answering the call. It was about 8PM. I’d just settled in to either finish the story or complete some of the sidequests in an epic sprawling adventure. And then…the dreaded phone call.
So, when I picked up, I kept silent. If it was a scam or a telemarketer, I knew they’d hang up on me after a few seconds. Instead, I heard my manager’s voice. She was there to inform me that a courier that had visited the office building at the start of the week had tested positive. He had been wearing a mask at the time and the risk was low. They’d also checked the security feeds and she was positive that the courier hadn’t stopped on our floor. Nor had we interacted with him in any way.
Still, given that this was the Delta variant, that it was airborne and that it was highly transmissible, it meant that I needed to keep an eye out for any symptoms and go to get tested if I was feeling unwell (I was fine, of course – given that I was informed at the end of the week and had been sheltering in place for as long as I’ve been alive. Ah, the joys of introversion. Who needs to chat with people anyways?).
But that first blow, of being told that I might have encountered someone that had been positive and that I could possibly be carrying the virus was kind of shattering. I remember sitting down on the stairs of my house – trying to compute what I was being told and how that might impact me and my family. If I had the virus, what would it mean for my elderly grandmother? At that stage, none of us were vaccinated. I feared the worst.
Still, I thought about it rationally. If I did have the virus, I had no power to go back in time to reverse what had happened. After all, not all of us are Max Caulfield and it wasn’t as if I was living in Arcadia Bay. Sitting there, grappling with the news that I might have been exposed, I accepted that if I had caught the dastardly virus, I’d simply have to deal with it the only way we know how. Go and get tested if I was displaying symptoms and maybe head to hospital if I suddenly found I couldn’t breathe.
What else was I supposed to do, anyways?
The call ended with me waxing philosophical on how things are never quite as predictable as humanity would like. And that there are some things that cannot be changed no matter how much we may wish it. What’s the sense of raging against one’s fate if it was meant to be? The only thing I could do then was mitigate whatever damage.
Long story short, I never developed symptoms. And as such, never went to go get tested. During the Delta outbreak in Sydney, my mother had numerous scares but we’d been lucky enough to dodge the dreaded text messages from NSW Health identifying us as possible close contacts to the virus. The days went by in a blur and before we knew it, all of us had been vaccinated and Australia was finally opening up.
Nowadays, I don’t even blink twice when I see a COVID-19 alert. Given how pervasive it’s been during and after Christmas, it seems like everyone has caught COVID-19. And maybe it’s time to just get it over and done with. At least, that’s what I’d like to say.
Everyday I’m on public transport, mingling with people in the office. Everyday I’m risking contagion during lunch time when we all have our masks removed. I mean, I went and watched Six with a few work colleagues and a few friends. And I’m not letting COVID-19 ruin all my future plans to actually go to the theatre or to buy my video games.
I may be an introvert, but there’s still some merit in the occasional socialising. Maybe. Possibly? Oh, who am I kidding? Chatting with people is draining. Why are humans social creatures? Let me just escape into the world of Nadezra so I can be the fly on the wall as I watch and wait for Grey and Ren to fall for each other.