The Test Of My Patience

 Part of my daily routine when I arrive at school these days is to fill out a Daily Symptom Checklist. It's a Google Form, designed to track the health of the school district's employees who continue to serve on their campuses. The "essential ones." There are only nine questions, six of which are school, ID number, first and last name, cell phone, email. Then comes the $64,000 questions: Do you  or does any member of your household have a current confirmed COVID-19 infection? Followed by a more specific list of symptoms: fever, headache, diarrhea, shortness of breath and so on. The last one is a temperature check, doubling down on that whole fever question which is itself a doubling down on the symptom question. And each day that I sit down at my table in the hallway, I open my laptop and enter that same information. Dutifully. Without ever knowing with absolute certainty that I do not carry a steaming hot bowl of virus around with me everywhere I go.

Until now. 

After ten months of fear and oddly placed confidence, I have received my first official COVID-19 test. The old joke about staying up late the night before applies here, since I have spent more than my share of anxious moments since last March wondering if and when I would catch the virus. As the tech point person for our school, I have had the opportunity to meet and greet a great many individuals coming and going for this and that. Mostly to pick up or drop off Chromebooks in various states of repair. Most of this contact has been masked, and I have rushed to the office to grab a disposable one for parents and students who arrive without having read any of the memos sent out or signage displayed in and around the building. 

Last week, I went to the nearest district-provided location for my district-sanctioned test. I sat down at a small table outside a warehouse on the other side of a plexiglass divider and waited while the nurse checked for my appointment. Once I was confirmed as a district-approved employee, I was handed a swab that I was told to swish around my teeth, tongue and gums for thirty seconds. After that, I verified my district-issued email address and my cell phone number and was assured that I would be contacted within forty-eight hours.

When forty=eight hours came and went, I assumed like so many district-sponsored events, that there may have been an unforeseen event that kept the results from being made available to me. After four days, I imagined that I might assume that the results were negative with no reason to bother me. After six days I worried that they may have assumed that I had died from complications and not bothered to contact me. So I dug up the email address of the folks in charge.

Within a few minutes, I received a reply assuring me that I had indeed tested negative for COVID, and that I should look forward to getting another test next month. 

Better start studying now.