On Saturday, I unexpectedly tested positive for COVID-19. I don’t usually test myself, but I woke up feeling out of sorts—sinusitis, aching teeth and jaw, body aches—and decided to use a test kit I had lying around. I was about to head out to catch up with the former manager and volunteers from the shop that closed in July, so I thought it was wise to check.
I fully expected a negative result, as I’ve done this a handful of times before, but to my surprise, the test showed two solid red lines. I had COVID. I’m not exactly sure where I picked it up—possibly in the office on Wednesday or at the theatre on Tuesday evening—but it didn’t really matter. Some people I had been in contact with on Wednesday morning confirmed they were negative, so it’s likely I wasn’t infectious at that point—a small mercy.
The timing, however, couldn’t have been worse. I have a hospital appointment on Tuesday afternoon. Not just any appointment, but one I’ve been waiting for since I took the initial test 1,133 days ago. After that test, which revealed I had severe sleep apnoea, I got lost in the NHS system. It took over a year for the hospital to inform me of the result, and even then, it was through a different consultant in a different department. After several unsuccessful attempts by other departments to get the sleep clinic to follow up, I was re-referred in February. This time, the diagnosis was moderate sleep apnoea—an improvement likely due to weight loss—but still concerning.
Finally, on Tuesday, I’m scheduled to trial a CPAP machine, which should help me sleep better and reduce the risks of stroke and constant fatigue that come with sleep apnoea. Now that I’ve tested positive for COVID, I’m faced with the prospect of cancelling the appointment and likely waiting another six to eight months for a replacement. After much consideration, I’ve decided not to cancel. I seem to have passed the worst of the fever, and I’m now dealing with a sore throat, runny nose, and earache.
COVID is less dangerous now, especially post-vaccine, and I’m confident that the hotel I’m staying in, as well as the hospital staff, have protocols in place for dealing with it. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I believe it’s the right one. Hopefully, by tomorrow, I’ll finally have my CPAP machine, and I’ll experience a good night’s sleep for the first time in years. Sure, it might feel strange, and COVID might make it even stranger, but I’m focusing on the long-term benefits.
In the meantime, I’ve managed to downgrade my theatre seats for just £12 instead of losing them altogether. Fortunately, the offer for decent seats was still available until yesterday, so I secured good seats for next week. I also had ticket protection for The Wizard of Oz, so I’m not out of pocket, even if I might not make it to the show. Fingers crossed this COVID clears up soon!
