Two weeks ago, I was tested for coronavirus after being randomly selected by UA. Even though I didn’t think I’d been exposed, it was a sign of a good Samaritan to make sure that I was negative so I wasn’t harming anyone around me. I had tested negative six times before, so I thought it would be my lucky seventh negative. The next day, I woke up feeling like absolute garbage. I couldn’t stay awake, my whole body was in pain, and my throat was so swollen that I couldn’t breathe. I thought it was allergies or the cold my friend had a few days ago. I went to my mandatory in-person class, came back to my dorm, and took a nap. I woke up to an email telling me I was positive for Covid-19. In shock, I called my mom, and she said “C’est La Vie.” At a campus that at one point had more cases than Canada, I guess she couldn’t be too surprised I contracted COVID-19.
I called the COVID-19 hotline which directed me to the housing department. They set me up with a room in the isolation dorms, scheduled a ride service, and by 9 p.m. I was out of my dorm. I had to bring my sheets, towels, and of course, all my schoolwork. I moved into the Mary Burke West dorm and was greeted by the concierge who had me fill out some paperwork and she gave me a snack bag. I walked into the elevator and was immediately struck with desolation. The loneliness and sickness could be felt in the air. On the first night, I went to bed as soon as I got there because I had such an overwhelming, emotional day on top of being sick. I just had to sleep.
The first day was okay. My friends drove by my window and waved hello, but it ended up making me more sad than happy. I’m a person who likes to do things for other people, not have people do things for me. I was shown insurmountable kindness from my friends and it greatly helped me through this time. However, I think the part that hurt the most was the moral guilt that laid on my chest like an elephant. I had gotten one of my sorority sisters sick, and now, we both had to miss out on our initiation ceremonies. My roommates had to go get tested and so did my friends. I had to think of everyone else I was around (which stupidly, was a lot) over the past few days and contact them. My roommates tested positive and moved into the dorms a few days later. They assured me they weren’t mad or upset with me, but I still felt bad. My mom flew out from California to take care of me from a distance. She flew 2,000 miles and I couldn’t even hug her. I cried a lot the first few days out of loneliness, sadness, and anger.
Quarantine overall went by pretty fast. Maybe it was because I slept the first four days due to not being able to stand without falling over. Being awake was miserable. I had no appetite, which if you know anything about me, is unusual. “Coronabrain” is definitely a real thing, because watching TV seemed too taxing for me sometimes. By Tuesday, a week after I started showing symptoms, I felt better. I was more alert, and I could make it a whole day without a nap. My body didn’t hurt, I didn’t need as many tissues, and I was starting to eat again. By the end of the week, I was a whole new person. I was back to 100% (minus my lack of smell) and I was about ready to burst out of there.
The Burke dorm was quite the switch over from my suite at the Presidential Village. I wasn’t used to communal showers and thin walls. However, I did receive excellent care thanks to the University. There was a 24-hour concierge who would fetch your Postmates and get medicines from the Student Health Center, nurses and doctors who checked up on you at least once a day, and pretty good food from the dining hall. Every night around 5:30, we were delivered hot dinner and then a cold lunch and breakfast for the next day.
Every day, a few more people moved in and I’d meet them in the common room or in the bathrooms. While I wasn’t surrounded by people all the time, it was comforting to know I wasn’t alone during this novel experience. I did try to find the silver linings of the situation: I had the antibodies and couldn’t give it to my friends and family when I went back home. I was able to catch up on sleep and schoolwork for lack of there being anything better to do. I was one of the lucky people who was able to survive, recover and leave the situation unscathed.
My heart goes out to the 238,000 Americans and millions more worldwide who were not as lucky as me. Please learn from my mistakes and keep being diligent with Coronavirus precautions. There really is no reason to go to parties with 300 people in a frat basement- stay in with your roommates. Don’t just assume you are negative- get tested regularly to keep yourself and others safe. Most importantly, wear your mask, stay in, wash your hands, social distance when you can, and check up on those around you- safely.