It's early in the morning on Christmas eve. The house is quiet and dark, lit only by our Christmas tree. A skiff of snow is on the ground and carols are playing softly. It's peaceful, idyllic...
...and sad.
This is not the Christmas we dreamed of. We hoped to be in a cabin bustling with family: grandmas, grandpas, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We wanted to play games, laugh boisterously, and cook way too much good food.
My, how Covid has changed all that for many of us.
Up until recently, our connection with the coronavirus has been peripheral. Sure, we were doing our best to stop the spread by avoiding indoor spaces, washing hands, masking up, and social distancing. Perhaps because we were being cautious, it felt like it would never happen to us.
Whelp, Covid has since hit home. In fact, it's in our home. And the crazy thing is, were we not trying so hard to be careful, we wouldn't even know.
This year was supposed to be a Wheeler family Christmas. In preparation for gathering as a family, we all decided to get tested in advance. Our family actually had been tested just the week before since NomiAnn and Papa Kay were coming to visit and we didn't want to share germs with them either. As they swabbed our noses for the second time last Saturday morning, it felt a bit superfluous. After all, we felt fine and tested negative before.
By the time Monday evening rolled around, we still hadn't gotten our results back. We were all gathering for Sawadee take-out at Justin and Brianna's. Before going in, Jason and I had a short conversation about whether or not we should mask up. We worried it might be an awkward start to the holiday, but decided to all wear our masks anyway since our tests were still pending. Eli, in particular, felt grumpy about having to mask up but did it anyway.
About half an hour into the evening, we were all seated around the table eating when Jason got a text saying that his results were available. It took him just a moment to figure out they were negative. Since I was getting results for five people, it took me quite a bit longer to decipher the rest of the results. Not wanting to disclose personal medical information over email, it required paper, pencil, and matching complicated codes to the right people. Eli was watching over my shoulder, anxious to rip his mask off the moment he saw that his test was negative. I opened his patient portal first since he was so eager. Our eyes grew wide with disbelief as we both read that dreaded word, typed in bold.
Positive.
The following moments are blurred by shock. Eli ran outside and hid in the bushes to cry. Still unsure about everyone else's status, I took my paper, pen, and phone outside to continue deciphering results. (The rest were all negative.) Meanwhile, everyone else left dishes on the table and packed up to leave in a hurry. I remember regretting the pledge that I'd made to Ruby as she went to bed, promising that she and Annika would get to play the next day. Uncle Lance came outside to give Eli a hug since he's already had covid. (Coronavirus was awful for Lance, but that's anther story.) Overall, the experience was traumatic and surreal. Definitely not the start to Christmas we'd hoped for.
Upon arriving home, we fed Annika a corn dog since we'd torn her away with her meal half-eaten. It was hard to process what to do next. I remember having this overwhelming feeling that I didn't want anyone else to know. There is such stigma surrounding covid. It somehow felt shameful that there was coronavirus in our home. We'd done something wrong. I wanted it all to go away. Since Eli and everyone else felt absolutely fine, it seemed unreal--like a mistake. We decided to get re-tested the next day.
In the meantime, however, we knew we needed to be responsible and quarantine. We let NomiAnn and Papa Kay know since they had been in our home through Thursday, as well as the family with whom we carpooled to school on Thursday.
On Tuesday morning we all went to retest, this time through Intermountain Healthcare via their saliva test. Turns out Annika's a great spitter. Interestingly enough, everyone else preferred the nasal swab. Even though it's uncomfortable, the whole testing process was much faster. Perhaps because the TestUtah initiative doesn't ask for medical insurance information, we were in and out in less than ten minutes, as opposed to the hour it took for the saliva test, plus an extra hour of travel time.
While logically I knew that the chances of a false positive were extremely slim, we still had no symptoms so it was hard not to hope. Alas, Eli's second test came back positive as well. He really does have Covid.
The tests for Annika, Talia, and I were all negative. NomiAnn and Papa Kay got tested with the Wilhoits in Washington and were negative as well--thank the Lord. Jason's still waiting on his results, and Brooklyn has to get rested because apparently her saliva vial leaked. Ew! All in all, I think it's pretty safe to say that Eli's not spreading much since he and Annika share a room, plus he shared a room with NomiAnn and Papa Kay when they were here.
It's also safe to say that Utah is doing an abysmal job with contact tracing following covid testing. I'm sure they are overwhelmed, but I am truly shocked that Eli received a positive test result on Monday and here it is Thursday and no one has followed up with our family, The only reason I know about his second positive result is that I asked the nurse if results were in when someone called me to let me know that Brooklyn's test leaked. I still have no formal results for the kids on the online portal. I'm sure Jason's test has been processed, but he's stuck in the same rabbit hole. Also, Annika and Talia never got any test results whatsoever from the first time we tested. Not a stellar performance.
The only reason we know our family has Covid is because we were trying to be responsible. If I weren't watching test results like a hawk, we would be celebrating Christmas as a group of fourteen. If other cases are being treated in the laissez faire way as ours, imagine the plight our state and nation are going to be in following the holidays. It's terrifying.
On the flip side, we have much to be grateful for. While we wish we had gotten our results an hour sooner and not exposed the Wheeler side of the family at all, we feel hopeful that that the exposure was limited and we didn't spread.it farther. It's pretty miraculous that it hasn't spread within the family, and such a blessing that we didn't give it to Papa Kay or NomiAnn. We are grateful that Eli seems to be feeling fine (knocking on so much wood right now.) We are grateful for a warm home with plenty of food, beautiful Christmas lights, and presents under the tree. Oh, and online grocery shopping. Definitely that.
Don't get me wrong--it's still hard. Eli is heartbroken to be missing out on Christmas with extended family. In some ways, retesting was cruel because he had to relive the disappointment all over again. It's so sad to see him eating alone at the kitchen counter instead of around the table with the rest of us. It's no fun wearing a mask all the time, even if the rest of us are wearing one too. Yesterday he was so depressed that I finally made him go for a masked walk into the foothills with me. (No worries, the streets were completely empty.) It took an entire hour before he was finally ready to open up a bit about everything he feels.
I worry about Annika too. Since she's sleeping on the floor in our room, I heard her talking in her sleep, her voice alarmed: "But they're all positive!" She keeps telling us how sad she is that Eli has Covid, and is obviously worried that she will get it too. She's been looking forward to cousin time at Christmas for so long that missing out is a big loss.
The rest of us, being older, mask our feelings more, but we are sad too. This pandemic is hard--and we are feeling healthy. My heart goes out in new ways to those who are ill, as well as to those who love them.
So there you have it! Nine months into the pandemic, Covid finally caught us. Asymptomatic is a real thing. Also, as much as I hate to say it, I think it highly likely that Eli caught the coronavirus at school. He hasn't been anywhere else. Salt Lake City School District is caving into enormous amounts of political pressure to reopen both elementary and secondary schools in several weeks, but I have to say that I think it is a terrible idea. I know we are all sick of this pandemic. We are lonely and tired of the isolation. Online learning is hard. But with hospitals overwhelmed, case counts continuing to spike, and a vaccine in sight, we need to hang on and endure. While a lockdown may be most advisable, opening up under these circumstances is insanity. The public health department obviously does not have things under control (remember, we've had no contact after five days since testing positive). More than ever, we need to make the hard but right choices.
Through it all, I feel the most hope and peace by thinking about our Savior during this Christmas season. The circumstances of His birth were not ideal. His life was also marked by loneliness and disappointment. Yet his message is one of joy, of hope, of love. As we gather round our Christmas tree to sing muffled carols from beneath our masks, I feel that joy. I feel that love. I feel hope. There is a bright side to being forced to slow down and spend days on end at home--we get to spend them with each other.
