Memoirs of a Quarantinee

My Covid ordeal started on March 6 when news of the suspension of classes in Metro Manila due to reported cases of Covid came out and another news of a lockdown in Italy because of thousands of Covid fatalities. My daughter is studying in Manila and she is in Quezon City where there are many confirmed Covid cases. She’s alone in her place and relatives are far from where she stays. I texted and called her a lot, always checking on her. My sister is also in Italy and she is immuno-compromised because of a heart ailment and diabetes. Daily, I would check on her, too, knowing that Italy is suffering much from the pandemic. These two alone made me scatter-brained.

March 10, I got word from a friend of a possible lockdown in Metro Manila and that would mean a difficulty in mobility.  Despite the numerous texts and calls I made to my daughter urging her to go home, she hesitated because they were having online classes and she has to submit some outputs online.

March 12, my sanity seemed to be blown out because a lockdown was finally declared in Metro Manila. I immediately sought help from family members to secure a plane ticket for Dorothy. It was already late in the evening when a ticket with a very exorbitant price was bought for March 14. The hours seemed so long between March 12 and 14. I hardly slept thinking of consequences in between the days. I prayed a lot, but panic attacks started to set in. My fear and apprehension momentarily subsided when I saw my daughter at the airport in the early morning of March 14. I really wanted to hug her but she cautioned me not to and told me that she will go on self-quarantine as soon as she arrives home.

Despite the two-hour sleep I had, I still went to church for my Saturday morning mass assignment as lector. A fellow lector noticed that I was losing my voice which alerted me. Actually, prior to this, I was not feeling well already. I had pneumonia in the last week of January and before I could be back in the pink of health, my father died in February 3, and I had no choice but be on my feet to travel to Aklan and attend to his wake and burial. For ten days, I had to travel back and forth to settle things. I must admit, I had episodes of slight fever and body malaise but I didn't mind it much.

March 14, my daughter and I started our self-imposed quarantine. On condition that I was not feeling well, the barrage of messages from friends regarding Covid was quite too much for me to handle. Though I didn't have fever, I had back pains and had a stuffy nose. Terrible things crossed my mind. There was this fear that I might have been infected with Covid or I might have pneumonia which if not treated I might experience sepsis which already happened in 2017. I was on panic mode. The feeling was surreal! I didn't tell anybody about how I felt because I do not like to contaminate them with fear and worries that are already looming. Unnecessary fears should be avoided to ease the trauma that everybody is facing at the moment.  That night, I already informed my co-lector that I cannot serve in my Sunday Mass schedule because I was not feeling well.

In the morning of March 15, I packed my things and medicine and without telling my daughter, I drove alone to a private hospital for a chest x-ray.  My plan was that I would not go back home anymore, if in case, and will submit myself to hospital care, if needed. Anyway, if left at home, with enough provisions, my daughter can manage alone. I contacted my niece who is a doctor to give me a request for X-ray because I was suspecting that I have pneumonia again.  Unluckily, this niece-doctor of mine was also on quarantine because she has just arrived from Singapore.  However, via messenger, she sent me the request which I presented to get a chest X-ray.  It took quite sometime before I was attended to because I had three temperature checks and interview before my request was granted.  I did not complain because I understood the situation.  Knowing that I was not in a condition to be admitted, I went back home.

March 16, I requested my niece who is a nun to get my x-ray result.  True to my suspicion, I had a relapse. The result showed pneumonia in my left lung and so I sent my result to my niece-doctor, and just the same, I was given my prescriptions via internet and was told to stay home.   

The sdP Sisters purchased my medicine and brought additional provisions so I won’t leave the house to do marketing. I told my daughter to get her own food so that we won’t physically see or come near each other.  She stayed in the upper room while I stayed in my room at the ground floor.  The days that followed were grueling.  My back pain worsened, phlegm started to come out and on two occasions, I nosebled. My backpain was excruciating because I also had an attack of spondylosis. How I wished, someone would massage my back to ease the pain.  I just placed strips of Salonpas and rubbed Vicks Vaporub on my aching body.  I was on the verged of crying, but, I held on.  It was not time for self-pity.

I remained vigilant. I frequently checked on my oxygen saturation, my blood pressure, and fever. My lips started to crack, so I drank Gatorade because I know I am getting dehydrated.  I also did deep breathing exercises and gargled using warm water with salt, alternating it with Betadine. I had to be quick at giving remedy to myself.

I am physically sick and my mind is getting paranoid.  I even had a dream where I was caught by the military because according to them I am suspected of keeping the Covid virus in my pocket.  Of course, it was absurd, and I just laughed at this.

I was relieved that everytime I checked, my vital signs were normal.  I also constantly checked on my daughter’s condition either through messages, phone call or distant conversations. I also kept in constant communication with my family members in Aklan and Iloilo and Suor Jean in Italy.  Being the eldest in the family, and with no more parents to look after us, I had to check on everybody. Coupled with all these, I prayed a lot.  Sometimes, even when I go to the comfort room, I would, by instinct make the sign of the cross. I also held on to my talisman, my brown scapular and my rosary, whenever, negativity besets me.  I do not know how many times I prayed in a day.

In the days that I was sick, I never hinted friends and family members what I was going through. I continued doing my work through the web. My quarantine did not prevent me from doing something within the limits of my resources and the constraints of my health condition. However, on two occasions where I was asked if I could serve in the online mass and another when a niece from Iloilo asked for help, I had to reveal that I am actually sick of pneumonia and it would be impossible for me to go out of the house.

Good that the Sister Servants were there to send me supply of medicine and provisions.  They just bring them to me at the gate of our house.

March 21, a day before I could finish my medication for pneumonia, a stroke of misfortune occurred.  A grass fire took place in the vacant lot next to our house.  An angel came to the rescue. A male neighbor came over and before the firetruck came, the fire was already extinguished.  However, in my haste, I sprained my big toe which made me limping for several days.  I am glad that when this happened, no damage to property was made. In that situation, I was calm and even managed to pacify a panicky neighbor.

March 26, as a precautionary measure, the subdivision gate passing through Barangay Tanque was closed.  This limited the entry to the place where we live.

March 28, was a D-Day for me and my daughter.  We finished our self-imposed quarantine. 

The news of a Covid fatality coming from Dayao caused an Enhanced Community and Home Quarantine in the Barangay in March 30. This drew much concern and panic to the city. I personally was drawn to it, because the victim was an elementary grades classmate of mine.

In April 4, I was caught in a situation which I only see in movies. I requested for medicine and fruits, but because of the enhanced quarantine,  vehicles of non-residents were not allowed, so, I had to get my provisions from the gate of the subdivision.

In the morning of April 5, I received my Quarantine pass.  Good enough because in the afternoon of this day, an Extreme Enhanced Community and Home Quarantine were imposed due to another Covid positive case in the barangay.  We were now on a total lockdown.

Because of escalated palpitation, through messenger, I contacted my cardiologist. With my apparatus at home, my doctor asked me to take my blood pressure, my oxygen saturation and my pulse rate. She ordered to increase the dosage of one of my medicines, and so my daughter and I have to go out to buy medicine.   Again, another scenario which I see in movies occurred.  A checkpoint was set up where barangay officials and uniformed military men were checking for quarantine pass, and getting temperature check, plus a round of announcement that the following day, entry and exit of vehicles to the barangay where we live will already be limited.   It took us about twenty minutes to pass through the checkpoint in going back to the house.

On April 8, while we were having lunch, my daughter received a text message checking on her health condition. She was informed that she wasin the same plane with a Covid positive passenger during her flight back to Roxas City on March 14. According to the texter, that passenger is doing well as well as the other passengers who were with that person. My daughter was further advised to stay home. We shrugged at the information because her quarantine period is already over. Actually, one of the passengers was also Dorothy's elementary grades classmate and her mother also called me that her daughter's condition was also checked.

We are now almost a month under quarantine, and Thanks God, we’re both fine, but we won’t let our guards down that is why we still comply with home quarantine, maintain social distancing and use separate utensils and bathrooms even to this day.

These past days, I noticed that I get more sleep, I don’t get edgy and I feel relaxed and I got back to my Knovela binging mode.

Reflecting on the message of Pope Francis for Easter Sunday, I firmly agree that HOPE and COURAGE are the weapons we need to survive the Covid pandemic.  Hope is, indeed, not magic, it is a grace from God.  It is a result of our faith that God will salvage us from the horrors of the pandemic.  It is also this Hope that gives us the Courage to fight the battle and rise victorious.  Because if we stay lame and cowardly in this pandemic, we will surely succumb to defeat.  I am a solo parent, my relatives are far from me, I have to be strong. As I have been telling myself all the time, we are now facing a CHALLENGE - a TEST of FAITH and PERSONALITY – and that we need to be strong in both to overcome the challenge. With this in mind, I have gathered the strength to brave the storm because I am confident that my FAITH IS GREATER THAN MY FEAR.