Sebahate J. Shala
I HAVE been exposed. Virus is here. In the house. We live under the same roof. Only walls separate us. All of this time I was being protected from the outside world while it turned out the virus was here, just inside the house. Oh God. I suspected because he, the head of the household, was the last one to stop working: our last day was Monday, respectively Tuesday, his was Thursday, March 19. I was like, “Why is he still working, come on?”
15 mins to midnight. March 29. Prepare to sleep. I hear him coughing in the bathroom, so hard, so bad, with mucus, having difficulty breathing, shortness of breath. I am terrified. “Virus is here, Covid-19 is in our apartment? OMG, where I’m going to hide now?” Got panicked. I lock the door to prevent virus from entering in my room. I want to jump out of window. Then I remember, oh virus is outside, too. I’m at risk inside and out. “Where I’m going to go now?”—I scream. You have no place to go, baby. You have no place to go. The feeling that virus was inside the walls terrified me. God, I want to disappear. I WANT. TO. DIE. NOW.
I text some friends thinking to seek refuge. I told one of them. We talk should I go to a girlfriend in Brooklyn. Then, I say “No. I can’t go there. I can’t risk other people life.” I may be charged for premeditated murder. He says, “Don’t tell her!” Worse, I am guilty for hiding the crime. I decide to stay in my room. It’s safer to stay home than going elsewhere. Slept three hours that night. Woke up at 5:00 AM. Called my father and told him. “Don’t be scared, don’t be scared daddy’s girl. You weren’t scared in the war, now you are scared from a virus?! It’s just a flu.” I say: “I wish I were there daddy. I wish I were home with you now!” I am alone here. Have no one to take care of, if something happens. I may die alone.
Locked in my room all day. Drank only a coffee in the morning. Didn’t eat, didn’t drink, no bathroom, no kitchen. In bed all day. I must have napped for an hour or so when I heard his daughter, a college student, crying and crying, maybe for hours, until they took him to the hospital late afternoon. Then, we all got relieved. I ate, showered, and slept well for the first time in more than two weeks. It was a nightmare. A bad dream.
Next morning, I felt nothing whatsoever. Calm. Quiet. Silence after storm. No fear. Perhaps fear reached its culmination the night before, the peak, so I feel nothing now. Maybe something broke inside me that night. Or I lost the reason. Whatever it was, it had impact on me. Just the thinking that virus was here and I didn’t have any place to hide or go, made me crazy. That explains why in the next five-six days, I ended up in bed: weak not extremely fatigue as early signs, lost appetite and taste for food, my mood dramatically changed. No fever, light temperature and a feeling like something stuck in my throat. I slept almost all day every day. Depressive.
A Surprise Attack: COVID Backed-Off
NEVER figured out whether I had contracted the virus or not. I had some interactions with the infected days earlier. I encountered with him in the hallway when sick. We share kitchen and bathroom, as well. The probability of having been infected is high. His son tells me he developed pneumonia. I reached out my health insurance and NY Health Department for testing right away. They recommended to call Coronavirus hotline. I did. Nobody ever called. Even if they did, I wouldn’t go because it might be long waiting in the hallway. Also, I can get the virus while in and out of the hospital. In an order issued on March 20, NYC government suggests people who have mild symptoms to stay home. I decided to wait until I develop further symptoms.
My father makes joke with me, saying that I passed it easily. “No, No. No. Don’t say it. I didn’t get the virus. No.” A friend of mine says whatever it was you beat it. The feeling that I might have had it, makes me nuts. My sister hint at stigma. She heard people hesitating to go to hospital even when sick, fearing of being isolated or stigmatized. That’s not the case for me, though. It is because, I think about myself as someone who is so strong as no virus or disease could ever attack or beat. I feel I am invincible, unbeatable. That’s why I hadn’t bought masks, alcohol, and pills. I didn’t want to think I’m going to be attacked.
Days earlier, on March 28, though, I woke up at 2:00 AM as a result of fever and a terrible headache. My head was burning. Took a pill. Couldn’t sleep. I suspected I was attacked by virus. I thought to call 911 in the morning. While in fervor and rambling, I developed some thoughts and posted on social media, reading as below: “I am physically and psychically prepared to fight Covid-19. I have suspicions that the enemy forces (the virus) have illegally entered in my body, violating physical integrity and sovereignty—guaranteed under the law on the functioning and protection of organism. I’m planning to launch a preemptive strike as a surprise attack to take advantage against virus and as an act on self-defense by using headache and fever as war rationales. Based on my anticipation, the danger from an attack is imminent. I have to make sure though that my fear is just and rational. Cause—just. War—just. Victory—inevitable.” Luckily, when I woke up in the morning, everything was gone. After reading post, my family and friends here and in Kosovo reached me out, recommending to call 911, schedule for testing and take vitamin C. Did virus attack me? Did I scare it? I don’t know.
New Life: Living Under the Roof With Covid-19
WE’RE ISOLATED. It’s only me and his son moving around. He prepares food for his mother and sister. I do for myself. We set new rules: use gloves and masks within house, bathroom and toilet schedule—½ hours difference when shower, 30 min when using toilet. We disinfect before and after use. Communicate via a group chat. In the meantime, we shared some recipes that helped us a lot.
He is home after 7 days in the hospital. After nine days isolated in his room, he joined the family, following his doctor instruction. 3 days home+7 in the hospital+9 home isolation=19 days+incubation between 5 to 14 days. 1 month in total. The presence of virus in the house became a normalcy. The situation looks much better than I thought. Who would have thought that I would share the same roof with Covid-19?! This means, I haven’t surrendered nor succumbed to virus, to fear.
Next: Diary in the Time of Coronavirus Covid-19: New Normalcy, Socializing in Distance (IV)
War and Peace 