Tracing COVID

I paid a whopping $175 for a five day vacation to Florida, February 28 to March 4. which included a ticket to Hamilton, airfare on Spirit (yes I flew Spirit and it was a brand new plane, ha!) and accomodations at my sister's home.  Cheapskate.  Me, not my sister.  She had a nice house and a pool, I had my own room and bathroom.  And I had my baby sister to take me here and there.  She was and always is such a gracious host.  It was better than a hotel, B&B, or air bnb.

To get to the airport, I drove my car to an offsite parking lot (forgot to add that cost to the five day vacation).  A bus transported me to the airport, with the driver, handling my mini travel bag (mini because it had to fit under the seat of the plane or I would have to pay a baggage fee. Oh no, not I!).  I sat in the first row of the bus.  Other passengers passed me by, getting on or off the bus.  Did anyone cough or sneeze, I don't remember.  The driver handed me my bag after I got off the bus and I handed him a tip; our hands may have touched.

At the airport, I used the kiosk to get my boarding pass; the TSA agent stopped me to check that I had TSA pre approval.  Yay, cheapskate me paid the $100 Global Entry fee, guaranteeing me skipping lines during international travel and I had the envied TSA pre approval.  I made contact with many other people.  I asked the waiter at a bar for a glass of water with a wedge of lemon (I wasn't paying $3 for a 25 cent bottle of water) to take my medication.  It wasn't really medication; it was a sinus tablet to help my ear drums from being disgorged by the cabin pressure in the plane.  Have you ever felt that pain?  The waiter obliged, but didn't wash his hands counting to the birthday song as he gave me the glass of water.  He didn't wear a glove.  It wasn't required then.

I had the chills during my stay in Florida, indoors, outdoors, no matter where I was.  My sister had a party in my honor, attended by more than twenty family members I didn't get to see much often.  There was a lot of hugging.  I was the only one who complained about being cold. 

When I returned to New York, I also experienced on and off days of chills with no fever.  I wore thick sweaters indoors or kept on my coat.  It was very, very strange.

The first case of COVID-19 was in Washington State at a nursing home, where patient after patient were dying. That was in January.  There was no concern for us in the east till it made it's way to New York on March 6 when a man tested positive for the virus.  New York became proactive.  A containment area was set up around the area he resided and worshipped because many with whom he came in contact also tested positive.  The country, slow to the draw, started to take notice at a molasses pace.  We were told to wash our hands, counting the birthday song for ten seconds, which would later change to 20 seconds.  Chills, by itself was not a symptom of the disease.  It was only recently, that the CDC updated its list of symptoms and added chills.  Prior to that it was chills and shakes together.

Could I have had COVID-19 when I was in Florida, 16 days before the night of March 15, when I crawled into bed not feeling well, shivering and shaking all night, waking with a fever of 100.9?

Thinking back, in early February, I had the common cold, no fever, which kept me home from work and in bed.  I thought it unusual at the time.  Was it COVID-19?  That would take it back another 20  days or more.

But I am only speculating, let me look at other suspects.

On Friday 3/6, I had a doctor's visit to a medical center that closed the Monday following because someone tested positive for the virus.

The dentist?  I haven't heard from her since my visit on 3/7.  Is she ok?  Was it her?  Was it her assistant?  Was it the door that I opened with bare hands, entering and exiting?  Was it the keypad at the parking lot?

Maybe it was at the Nets games on 3/8, where I sat in a $625 seat, (by now you know I didn't pay for it myself)?  I was ten rows up from the court (whoop! whoop!) in an aisle seat where people passed me by.  Was it my nephew who was my date for the game?  But he has not been sick.

Was it the meeting on 3/10, where two people at the table where I sat coughed?  I was one and two chairs removed from them.

The gas station where I pumped gas on 3/13?  By this time, I had been traveling with disinfecting wipes and a bottle of spray which I used everywhere I touched.  I remember, though, not wiping the gas pump.  I don't remember sanitizing my hands after.  Did I touch my face on my way home?

Could it be the containment area in New Rochelle that I unknowingly visited on 3/10 and by choice on 3/12 and 3/15?  I felt it was the safest place to be because it was so sanitized, my eyes burned whenever I got out my car.  I also loved shopping there because nobody else did.  People were afraid of going to the area.  The supermarket remained well stocked and I found items that could not be found in other stores.

I could go on and on.  There were many other places and circumstances.   Why does it matter anyway?   Why trace COVID?  It matters because it could have been you, or you, or you, the ones least suspect.  You could be asymptomatic. You could be a carrier, not necessarily for me, but for someone else.

But more concerning is that I could have had the virus in me more than a month before it showed up in the form of a fever.  I cannot be an anomaly.  There must be others.  We are walking around infecting others.  We are going back to work after the fourteen day quarantine.  Medical professions have gone back after seven days, and I applaud them because their service is desperately needed.  But are they making us sicker?  I am convinced that the virus creeps slowly in you and then without warning Bam!  I am convinced that the virus lasts longer than the 14 day quarantine recommended.  How concerning is that.

Tracing COVID is not just about finding the source, it's also about the when and the how long.