I decided to sleep late today, but every time the phone beeped, I checked to see if it was my mom. Maybe she had some news about my father's treatment. It was mostly just well meaning neighbors checking on us. Everyone wanted to help. I gulped down a tear, as I thanked everyone for their kindness. Some offered food, while others promised to run errands for us. One even offered to send across drawing sheets to keep my younger one busy. How kind they were!
I responded to these messages, before deciding to sleep for another hour. I heard my cousin's voice in my head, urging me to rest a lot. Now that the kids and I were positive, we needed to fight the Covid.
By the time I woke up, the husband was already on the phone. The government was calling to notify us of our newfound status, and ask about our symptoms. The local healthcare officer also called. As we were only nursing mild coughs, it was decided that we could quarantine at home. I wanted some semblance of normalcy for the kids. At home they would still be able to attend their online classes.
Meanwhile, the husband's workplace had tied up with Portea health services. So we were promised daily calls with a nurse. We could even talk to a doctor once in days. They questioned us about our symptoms, told us what precautions to take, and asked that we keep a record of our oxygen saturation levels, pulse rate and temperature, several times a day. They even promised to tell us what to eat and urged that we begin some yoga, to improve our immunity. The children and I were already doing inhalations and breathing exercises, which we promised to continue.
While I was still reeling under the shock of having tested positive, the children were making plans of where they would go, once they acquired the precious anti bodies. I laughed with them, secretly glad that they had taken it so well.
Children are much stronger than we often give them credit. I was apprehensive about how they would handle the swabs. My parents had endured painful sample collections by an inexperienced nurse. So I was worried it would get painful. I joked about how the man would merely tickle our throats and make us laugh. My older son told the younger one that as he was born without a nose, his fake nose would fall off during the nasal swab. So, after his nasal swab, he sneezed involuntarily, and laughed aloud, as his nose hadn't come off. The man in the PPE kit had been gentle, but not amused. I was merely happy that we had felt no pain or discomfort.
Now the boys are going through the motions of each day, as usual. They've told friends that they've tested positive. The older one's friends are impressed, and the younger one's friends have made him promise he won't die.
"How silly are you? The recovery rates are high", he tells them emphatically, as we all laugh!
We still do video calls with my parents who are slowly regaining their strength. They are getting better, and we wait for the day when they will be back home. The kids let them in on their plans, for later, when we all have the anti bodies. After days of worrying, laughter fills our home again.
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