Testing 1-2-3-4...

Thanks to passenger Dean Turner for this photo.

1:30 a.m.

I was tested for COVID recently. Results within 24, they promised. A ticklish swab in each nostril. No big deal there.

“The waiting is the hardest part,” Tom Petty sang.

“Am I positive?” My first thought, ever since my first day off began.

Symptoms erupted. Then exploded. Not the ideal way to start a weekend.

“Nah,” my rational self answered. “Just another stomach virus, you’ll beat it just like when the kids were little and they brought every slithering bug home.” I nursed them all, my immune system impervious to these minor bugs.

For four months since the pandemic came to control our lives, I’ve braved crowds of people on the job. Who among them were infected? Wore my masks constantly; my ears have callouses. Washed my hands at every break. Used/abused the alcohol wash provided by the employer. Wiped down not only my driver's area, but the stanchions, doors and several other touch points a few times each shift. Kept the mask supplies abundant. Arriving home, I stripped and showered. Is it enough?

Nervous, am I? Yeah, a bit. More later.

* * * * *

4:20 a.m.

No, I’m not celebrating “420”. Just can’t sleep.

Took my temperature a while ago. Very low grade fever. It’s almost as low as those who damaged our city’s 120-year-old elk statue. Hopefully it settles back down to my normal cool range.

* * * * *

6:00 a.m.

Must have been the shortest "fever" I've ever had. Back to a cool 97.6 degrees. Feeling better too! Hope it's a constant trend. My immune system seems to be winning whatever it's fighting.

Still, I keep thinking of the selfish people who refused to wear a face mask on my bus, were rude and even threatening about it, shooting my stress level soaring beyond a bus operator’s limits. One of them an “ADA bully” and the other just plain stupid. Thanks, you assenheimers to the nth degree multiplied by infinity. I’ll pray you're not infected either.

* * * * *

2:05 p.m.

My test result was uncomfortably vague. COVID-19 was "not detected", my healthcare provider stated. Whew! Can I go back to work now?

Nope. They tell me I have to wait, symptom-free, a full three days until returning to work. Damnit, one more day off before I return. Started working on the COVID Leave form; gotta keep the bills paid. Called Station Agent to inform them of my return-to-work date.

* * * * *

Just to double-check on the correct date to return to work, I called my healthcare team again. The nurse put me on hold to consult with a team member a bit higher up. A few moments later, she told me the "new recommendation" was that I wait a full 10 days since my last symptoms before returning to work. Rats, I thought, my SA is not gonna like that.

You see, I'm not only at higher risk because of my age and health issues, but working with the public-at-large isn't exactly an ideal profession during a pandemic. It's best to be safe, which I try to be in all aspects of life. At this point, it's not wise to tempt fate. Plus, I don't want to possibly-infect my co-workers or passengers. What if I were to develop symptoms again, and I'm just currently asymptomatic? Not only does that scare the ear hairs off me, but I would also be worried about sharing this with someone else. My family is already at risk. What if a subsequent test came back positive?

Damn, what a mess. Not knowing if that pesky pandemic pesters my personal parameters, I have to find more stress relieving activities the next several days while monitoring the employer's response to my situation.

* * * * *

Many across the country are tired of the pandemic. Hey, we all are. That doesn't mean we can abandon precaution. That's why we discipline our children, so they learn right from wrong. Most wear masks, and I thank them. Yet some folks are refusing to wear them. They say their "constitutional rights" are more important than my health. Gee thanks, fellow Americans. I've seen articles about people who refused to wear a mask and were pushin' up daisies a week or two later. Brilliant, boys and girls.

Once upon a time, the rest of the world looked up to our USA. Now, they're worried about our sanity. Some have become too spoiled by our supposed "freedoms" and not very brotherly in their concern for others. It's scary enough to be exposed to an invisible assassin, let alone worrying whether my next rude passenger could anonymously kill me.

Thanks again Dean Turner!

My 60th birthday is fast approaching. I know the possibility of a celebratory bash is unlikely. I probably won't even go out to a restaurant. I'm much more concerned about making it to this birthday, and the next, and so on. My father lived until he was almost 92. I'm hoping to match, or beat that. He told me "the secret of life is to just keep having birthdays."

And so, my self-quarantine continues. Boring? Yeah, a bit. But I'll just pull on my Big Boy Pants and deal. If not just for my sake, but also for yours.