Things recently took a strange turn here at the magpie nest. I opened the NSW government health site as I do each evening, to check on details of the latest Covid case locations. Ordered by date from most recent, it only takes a few seconds. I saw Enmore. Cincotta Chemist. Gulp. I pressed on the green plus button and it turned to red, unfolding to specific details of date and time of exposure and health advice. In the ensuing micromoments I realized that there was a crossover with the few minutes I was there, leaving the medical practice after my second AZ shot. What! The pharmacy is the only exit from the medical practice, so there’s the collision of luck and irony. Damn! Go to get the vaccine. End up as a close contact. So, yes. I’m in self isolation.
I left home the next day to drive to the nearest testing centre. I rang the 1800 number. On hold for a good 30 minutes. That’s fine. They’re very busy. But oh! that fake flute music. Over and over on a very short loop. Ugh. (So many talented musicians who could compose beautiful music for us to hear while we are on hold. But no. Easier to use a bot.) I digress. The call went well. Very thorough, caring and informative. I could expect the contact tracing call in a few hours. Yes. Another wonderful caring person on the end of that call in the evening as she checked and rechecked my information and ensured that I understood the requirements of being a close contact. Then ping! The testing results came through, just nine hours after the test: NEGATIVE. I need to have another Covid test after 5 days. If that’s also negative, I can emerge just in time for my son’s birthday on August 3rd.
Meanwhile I’m in the nest all week. I am very fortunate. I feel quite well and have no symptoms. I have lots to occupy me – thank you magpie. My son lives just around the corner and will make sure I have what I need. I’ll definitely miss walking to the park. My old wooden stairs will have to be my new hill of grace. Up and down, down and up, just as often as I can. Lucky my studio is now upstairs. My kitchen is downstairs. So there’s a well-worn track. Take care everyone, until we all see this lockdown through.
2 thoughts on “When luck and irony collide”
Sweet recording nest
Thanks Sam. Keeps me happy. Keeps me sane. 🙂
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