And then somehow, two weeks later, when we were taking no risks whatsoever outside of school and work, it came. Harper woke up on Friday with a runny nose. Just the slightest runny nose, not even something that would have given me pause about sending her to school in the before time. But it was Friday, which was a Grandma pickup day, and I am always more cautious when we know we'll see grandparents. And Omicron was raging, which led to everyone saying in casual conversation, "covid is everywhere right now." So my caution was heightened, and I decided to give Harper a rapid test before school. Positive. Really? Did not expect that, especially the month after she was fully vaccinated.
First came the calls. Harper was actually totally fine, playing happily and energetically in the front room so I got to the list. I called Dilworth to let them know she tested positive and wouldn't be coming to school. I emailed BioKids to let them know Ashton was exposed and wouldn't be coming in. They let me know if he tested positive in the next three days, they would have to close BioKids. Yeesh. No pressure having the childcare of twenty families hanging in the balance of Ashton's unvaccinated immune system. I texted Grandma to let her know she wouldn't be picking up Harper today and should steer clear of us for awhile. I texted the other grandma for equity of information. I rapid tested me and Ashton. Negative. Negative. Phew. I texted Little Gym to let them know Harper and Ashton wouldn't be at dance or gymnastics that week. I called my doctor to cancel an ophthalmologist appointment. I emailed my boss to let him know the situation, changed my auto-reply at work, and went about the business of canceling my classes and meetings for at least the next five days. I emailed Ashton's speech therapist and let her know he would miss Friday speech class, and used the Remind App to let Harper's aftercare know she wouldn't be there. I went into CVS's vaccine appointment system and cancelled Aidan's Sunday covid booster because he had been exposed. When Aidan woke up, I told him to text work to see what he should do. His school was already online so no need to check in with them. I reflect on the fact that this is the invisible mental load of motherhood.
After the calls, came the feelings. Is Harper okay now but on the precipice of being really sick? Even if she doesn't get really sick, will the lingering virus cause long covid, diabetes, or some terrible thing we don't even know about yet? What about Ashton? He's not even vaccinated. Will he be okay if he catches it? Should we keep them apart? What in the world would that even look like?
But swirling in with the worry (I am vast, I contain multitudes), I would be lying if there wasn't a tiny part of me that was relieved. After all this time, the other shoe had dropped. Two years of being worried about catching covid, maybe we could just get this over with. None of us are particularly high risk, all but one of us are vaccinated, and statistically, Ashton should be fine. We hadn't seen the grandparents in a week and with faster moving Omicron, it's unlikely any of us could have spread the virus at that point. Maybe this supposedly milder strain would protect us from future variants and paired with our vaccines we would be one step closer to a normal life.
Four days later, the "fine" part of me has triumphed over the worry. On Friday, Harper had a runny nose and fever; she was lethargic and, at its worst, her temp briefly spiked to 102.7. This whole thing lasted, literally, less than 12 hours. Runny nose in morning, sick in the afternoon, 100% fine by bedtime. It was almost like the virus entered her body, and the vaccine kicked it out as suddenly as it came. We talked to Harper about how her body had the instructions to fight the virus as soon as it recognized it, and she was proud of her body. Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part or confirmation bias, but it certainly felt that way to me. Assuming she tests negative on Tuesday, she should be more or less ready to exit quarantine by Wednesday.
On the Friday where Harper was sick, I was the lucky recipient of many sneezes and coughs directly to the face, and Sunday I woke up with what felt like a head cold. I knew I had caught Harper's 'rona even though the first test came back negative. I wasn't very sick on Sunday, but I was tired and had what felt like a light head cold. It's frustrating to be tired because I have so much to do, but I did lay in bed for five hours on Sunday watching Emily in Paris and that felt unbelievably decadent. Monday I woke up nose still running, voice hoarse, but full of energy. Pretty much same today. Not sure how long this runny nose will linger, but I'm okay so long as I don't feel super sick.
Robert, Ashton, and Aidan are all still fine.* In fact, Aidan's work says since he is vaccinated, asymptomatic, and testing negative, he should still come into work. It feels a bit fraught to me, but keeps Aidan's life somewhat normal. I guess the wheels of capitalism still need to spin, and if everyone who was exposed stopped coming to work, everything would grind to a halt pretty quickly this month. We're not done with quarantine. We never kept anyone apart because that felt like a fool's errand, but I am sleeping downstairs with Harper and Robert is sleeping upstairs with Ashton to separate the covid positives from negatives at least at bedtime. I've started to wonder if Ashton had covid at some other point because he has been with Harper all day (mostly, not going to lie, watching TV), everyday since this started. Or he's Superman. One or the other.
Our personal experience with covid stands in such stark contrast to the havoc it's wrecked on society. On a scale of 1-10, this sickness for us has been like a 2. I doubt I would have even missed a day of work for this in normal times. Harper would have stayed home Friday and been back at school Monday. It wouldn't have even stuck in our memory as a time we were sick. And yet, this same virus has killed over 850,000 Americans in less than two years. It has decimated our supply chains and social fabric. It has made my kids' schools missing or masked for two years. The gulf between knowing covid is super dangerous and having experienced it as so mild is dissonant to say the least. It gives me some degree of empathy for families who have suffered tremendous losses financially, educationally, and otherwise, over what... a cold? Standing next to that visceral, human reaction, is just plain gratitude and humility. I know our experience with covid was a lucky one. So many families have lost loved ones, often unnecessarily because of vaccine hesitancy. There are so many others who due to age or circumstance, haven't fared as well. Keeping all these seemingly contradictory thoughts inside one's head is difficult. And I want to sit in that discomfort because it makes me understand why our society is at such an intractable place right now. I understand people who have both said we've overreacted and underreacted to this virus. Paradoxically, if everyone says you're doing it wrong, maybe you've actually found the best possible balance.
To recap what I do know: Harper, symptoms started Friday, tested positive Friday, if testing negative can be out of quarantine tomorrow. Me, symptoms started Sunday, tested positive Monday, out of quarantine Friday. Ashton, Aidan, and Robert have immune systems made of steel.
* Not long after I wrote this, Ashton tested positive as well. He hasn't been sick, maybe a slight runny nose. But since he didn't test positive until Wednesday, the 19th, he's not allowed back at daycare until January 31. More than two weeks out of daycare, and he was never even sick. Thanks, covid.
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