I know you all have been anxiously awaiting my response to the rumors that have been going around, so I’m finally here to break my silence. It’s true I was infected with miss rona, Covid-19, the plague, the ick, whatever you want to call it I had it. I know it’s shocking, considering I’m like one of the 40 people in Santa Clarita who even acknowledged the CDC Covid guidelines, but that’s besides the point.

The first symptoms I experienced were a really painful sore throat, the next one I got was a runny nose, then a cough, and then trouble breathing followed that. At this point, I was still naively holding onto hope that it was just the common cold. However, the one symptom that solidified my suspicions was my loss of taste. Obviously, it was time to get tested even though at that point my parents still didn’t think I had it. Despite their denial, I made an appointment to get tested at the drive-thru COC testing site.

I got my test done on Nov. 14 and my results came back on Nov 17. While I waited for the results, I literally just slept. I didn’t have enough energy to do anything else. I was so fatigued that I could barely walk to the bathroom. The morning of the 17th, I was in my online English \ class as both my parents came into my room and sat on the end of my bed. Everyone knows that when your parents come into your room with that look on their face you are either A about to get murdered or B about to receive bad news.

I immediately started crying and I asked them if I was positive; they replied with a yes. So, of course, I kicked them out of my room and cried in my zoom classes for the next two hours. I wasn’t necessarily upset about being sick. I was more upset about having to be isolated for two weeks. I knew it was going to be really bad for my mental health to not be able to get outside and see people.

Once we found out I was positive, my sister and her boyfriend got tested because he has cystic fibrosis, so he’s high-risk. Unfortunately, they both came back positive. The next people to get tested were my parents, and to no surprise of our own, they also came back positive. Our next step was to reach out to anyone we had seen in the past two weeks to let them know they might want to get tested. Thankfully, no one else that we had been in contact with was positive.

The next two weeks went like this: wake up at noon, move to the couch, take a nap till three in the afternoon, maybe eat some food, and then get back in bed at eight. I mean there was an occasional shower and some mandatory family time in between, but other than that, none of us had energy for much else.

I was not surprised that I’m the only one in my family who got the fever, cough, stuffy nose, and sore throat aspect of it because I literally have the worst luck. But with that being said, I’m so grateful that my family and I made a speedy recovery. I know that’s not a reality for hundreds and thousands of families in the U.S. and the world.

We got a call from our doctor the day before the two week mark, and she let us know that we could break the isolation the next day. Now I am trying my best to get back on a non-covid schedule because my body is used to sleeping all day.

Something I don’t want this article to do is make you feel brazen. Just because the virus didn’t hit my family as hard, doesn’t mean it won’t hit you or your family hard. Covid is very much real and very dangerous, so please wear your mask and listen to the guidelines. You aren’t just protecting yourself, you are protecting others!