I woke up and was relieved that my schedule was cleared, apart from a shift at work. It was at3:30-7:00 pm, so I was happy to go in. I remember dressing up extra that day because I had time. My mother drove me to work, and I clocked in on time. I work in retail, so I had lots of tasks to follow the new guidelines in place. I worked in the fitting rooms, where I spoke with a coworker who happens to be in nursing school, about the coronavirus. I remembered before it became a pandemic, he had shared with me the ideology that it was all planned by the Chinese government for population control. I distinctly remember saying “Maybe it’s all fake, like, do you know anyone who’s had it?” I of course said it ironically, I knew and understood the reality, which at that point was 172 cases in Ontario, and 177 012 worldwide. We continued to joke and smile behind our masks for around 20 minutes. I was then put to the task of steaming clothing that had been tried on in the changerooms. I did this alongside another coworker, but we were constantly moving around the store, so we were never together at less than two meters apart for longer than 15 minutes. I then took the bus home at the end of my shift. I walked the 15-minute walk from the bus station pleased with my day.
Monday the 29th of June, 2020
I woke up early. Today was supposed to be the first day of me babysitting a young boy in my neighbourhood. His parents and I had arranged a Monday to Thursday morning routine. I would arrive at 9 am and stay until 11 am. I was nervous, but I knew the family and the boy well enough to know that I was going to have a fun day. The only issue was, I couldn’t get out of bed.
I texted his mother to let her know that I wouldn’t be able to make it and the babysitting would have to start tomorrow. I finally did get out of bed, with extremely weak legs. My heart rate jumped as soon as I stood up, from 60 bpm to 100 bpm. I was lightheaded, my abdomen hurt, and I felt dizzy, almost like I was having a vertigo attack. Immediately my mind jumped to the best fitting diagnosis. I decided to diagnose myself with POTS, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. This would account for the weak legs, dizziness upon standing, and the jump in heart rate. I was still puzzled by the abdominal pain, though. I spent the day moving slowly and thoughtfully and planning my next move in terms of health. I knew I should call my doctor, as my own health anxiety isn’t enough to merit diagnosing capabilities.
Tuesday the 30th of June, 2020
I wasn’t feeling 100 percent. Walking was more laboured. My breathing was harsh as I marched to babysit. I had a mask in my bag, but I was never prompted by the parents to put one on, so it slipped my mind. I spent the morning trudging in the heat around my neighbourhood, trailing behind the 6-year-old boy. We sat by the Ottawa River and ate snacks, I was convinced that my “episode” the day prior was a mix between low blood sugar, low blood pressure, potentially POTS, and maybe my anemia coming back. Naturally, my treatment option was logically eating foods with natural sugar.
That night, I spent the majority of my time in my then boyfriend’s car, driving around the city with him and his best friend. We spent close to three hours in close proximity, with no masks. At the time, my boyfriend was in my social bubble, so we didn’t wear masks around each other. That night after I got home, I decided that I’d call my doctor about my symptoms. I knew that she’d question if I’d ever been tested for the coronavirus, so I decided to be proactive and get tested before I called, “just to rule it out” I said to myself.
Wednesday the 1st of July, 2020
I called my boss and told him that I wouldn’t be able to go in for my shift that day as I was getting tested, and you’re expected to self isolate after a test. My sisters joked that I was only going to get tested to avoid working. I wondered if they were right and I was subconsciously avoiding my work.
I got dropped off at the testing facility and was greeted by volunteers, there was no line. I walked in and waited to tell a nurse my symptoms so she could plug them into the computer. I listed every possible symptom. Fatigue, mild chest pain, dizziness when standing, faint, abdominal pain, along with others. She placed me under the “asymptomatic group,” as I had none of the primary symptoms. I was processed and given a wristband, my name was called and I was asked to relay my symptoms again. I repeated everything I had told the first nurse. This nurse looked at me puzzled, she explained to me that chest pain was not a known symptom of the coronavirus, and she recommended that I speak to one of the on-site doctors and have my vitals taken. I reluctantly said yes, as I was already quite scared. Nevertheless, I was moved to the “symptomatic” group and was soon called by a third nurse. This nurse took my blood O2, blood pressure, and heart rate. All of these came back average, although my heart rate was higher than usual for me as, again, I was nervous. Once this was completed, I sat back down, and my more aggressive symptoms started to occur. I felt lightheaded and as if I couldn’t breathe, almost as if someone was pressing on my trachea. I tried to calm myself down, and tell myself that I was just nervous. After what felt like a lifetime, a young female doctor called my name and brought me to a private examining room. She asked me to describe both my present symptoms, when I had first noticed them and took a brief history. She then swabbed both the back of my throat and my two nostrils with a swabbing tool quickly and discreetly. Once she handed off my test to a collecting nurse, she explained that I could have an ECG done at the facility, just to check more in-depth at my chest. I agreed, as I'd had one done before and they didn’t bother me.
Another nurse came by to give me an ECG, which went smoothly. I waited in a second, smaller waiting room for the results. The same doctor came to me and said that the results were normal, but she was afraid that my electrolytes were causing the chest pain. She then informed me that I could have my blood drawn at the facility as well. I was getting quite tired at this point, but I once again agreed as I was approaching my 6-month mark of needing bloodwork. I sat in a chair, watching a nurse prepare a needle. She said to me as she was wiggling the needle in my arm, trying to get a vein, that she doesn’t normally work with needles. She pressed and wiggled the needle, but was unsuccessful in getting a vein. She told me, “either you have very small veins, or you’re very dehydrated.” Both were true, I’ve been told previously that I have exceptionally small veins, and I had been at the facility for over three hours at that point without water. Another nurse who normally works in the OR and puts in IVs more frequently then came over to try my other arm. She was also unsuccessful despite her pushing on my vein, tightening the tourniquet, and moving the needle left and right in my arm. Eventually, an older nurse came to observe what was happening, and she ended up coaching the or nurse on how to get my vein. After three tries, blood finally started to fill the vial. Feeling drained, I was almost disappointed to hear that after all that, all my bloodwork came back normal. The doctor told me that I was probably extremely dehydrated, and that was the cause of my symptoms.
Thursday the 2nd of July, 2020
Not even 24 hours later, I received a call from Ottawa Public Health. I had tested positive for the coronavirus. What was to happen next was explained to me, and I hung up the phone. I told my family immediately to get tested, as it was likely that they all had contracted the coronavirus from me, or I could have caught it from one of them. I then told everyone I had seen in the past two weeks that I had tested positive. A public health nurse called me and spoke to me for over 45 minutes, trying to effectively contact trace. I learnt after the phone call that my estimated date of contraction was on Friday, so I had accidentally caused a minor case of mass hysteria, as I was over cautious and had told individuals to get tested unnecessarily. This resulted in a lot of commotion, and a lot of misplaced anger.
In the end, no one I had been in contact with had contracted the coronavirus. Not my family, not my then-boyfriend, none of my coworkers, or my boyfriend’s friend. Public Health was never able to determine how I contracted the virus. I spent just over two weeks confined to my four bedroom walls. I often had no symptoms during the day but had difficulty breathing at night, similar to how I felt in the waiting room the day I got tested.
My story is not unique. I wore masks when I was outside of my bubble, I socialized at a distance. I, in the end, did everything right. This means that whoever passed the coronavirus to me probably wasn’t taking the same precautions. I’ll include an excerpt from my Facebook post in regards to this subject.
“Please be cautious, please be kind. There’s no use pointing fingers, as if you contract it, you’ve likely not been following the guidelines, either. Wear a mask, as its purpose is mostly to protect yourself from others. Practice social distancing, even with your small circle. I do not have a severe or even moderate case, but I cannot stress enough the individual effort you must practice to keep yourself and your loved ones safe. Don’t play Russian Roulette with your health.”
