Under His Care - Love Under Lockdown

“Well, Stacey, I think we are going to have to run some tests to figure out exactly what is wrong here,” he says.

“Um, ok,” I say.

I’m in no mood to protest or argue. I just want to feel better again.

He calls a nurse, who leads me out of the room. The doctor prepares a chart on me and hands it to her. I follow the nurse down the hall to a separate room. She seats me in a chair and exits quietly. A few moments later, another nurse walks in, carrying my chart. She’s wearing a mask and gloves.

“This will be over really quick, and then we’ll get you back out to the waiting room,” she says.

I look at her and nod. I don’t feel like talking. I extend my arm as she prepares her syringe and swabs. She wipes my arm before proceeding to draw a few vials of blood. I feel a little fainter than before. Once she is finished, she bandages my arm, then labels the vials. She calls in the other nurse, who escorts me out to the waiting room.

“The doctor will call you back once we have your results,” she says.

“Ok, I’ll be here,” I say, in a lame attempt to make a joke.

Instead of sitting once she leaves, I walk down the hall. I find a water fountain and take a big gulp. My throat feels very dry and scratchy. I’m trying so hard not to cough. I still feel faint, so I go to the bathroom and splash a little water on my face.

Afterwards, I walk to the vending machines. Maybe food is what I need, even though I’m not hungry. I settle on a pack of crackers. I take them back to my seat and nibble on them.

The crackers stick to my throat, making the scratchy feeling worse, but the salt feels good and calms my stomach. I stare off into space as I wait to talk to the doctor again. He finally calls me back. The look on his face has me worried.

“So, what’s wrong with me, doctor?” I ask, a little breathless.

He looks at all his papers, then up at me.

“Things are not good,” he says.

He motions for me to sit in front of him, while he does the same. “We got your test results back. It appears that you have tested positive for COVID-19. I’m sorry,” he says.

I stare at him in shock. I’m in disbelief. There is no way this can be happening.

“The best thing for you to do is to go home and isolate until the symptoms have disappeared. If you have been in contact with anyone, you should probably let them know as well,” he says.

All I can do is nod. I’m not even paying attention to what he’s saying. I get into my car and drive home in a daze. As I get into my apartment, I lie on my couch and stare at the ceiling. I feel so sad and depressed. How did this happen? How did I get it?

I sit up suddenly as a thought occurs to me. Mr. Winston! I was in contact with him. I need to let him know that I could have infected him. I stare at my phone. I don’t know if I have the heart to tell him that; I’m afraid that I might upset him, or that he won’t want anything to do with me anymore.

I can’t even bring myself to look at my phone. I mute the ringer and leave it on the charger. Instead, I spend my time sleeping and working. I keep grading the assignments and forwarding them to him.

He writes little notes with them when he sends them back to me, but I don’t even bother to read them. After five straight days of this behavior, I finally look at all my text messages. They are from him, expressing his worry or concern, wondering if he did something wrong.

“Maybe another walk sometime?” one of his texts read.

I declined. “I’m weighed down with work at that moment.”

“Have I offended you in some way?”

I couldn’t bring myself to reply, so I just ignored that message.

I pick up the phone and open the text. I know I can’t put it off any longer. I really do care about Mr. Winston, and I miss him. More importantly, his health is at stake right now because of me. I summon all my strength and courage.

Instead of texting, I hit the call button. I take a deep breath as the phone connects and starts ringing. I don’t want him to worry or hurt anymore, and I’m worried that my refusal of his date may have done that.

Being honest with him is the only way to fix the situation.

Chapter 9

Chris

I’m busy looking over one of the papers that Stacey forwarded me. She graded it correctly, as always. I spent the morning drinking coffee and working out in my living room. I’m surprised that I haven’t heard from her in a while. I don’t even know if she got my last text message.