Following the COVID-19 outbreak, I stocked up on sanitisers, N95 masks, and stayed at home during the lockdown. Yet, I somehow managed to contract the virus.
Thanks to my paranoia, I visited the hospital the minute I developed a cough and a temperature. But not even when I was advised to take the dreaded RT-PCR test did I fear the worst; after all, I had followed all the precautions to a tee.
Unfortunately, when the results came, I suddenly found myself in a hospital bed, which was to be my home for the next 15 days. The only contact I had with the outside world was with healthcare workers in personal protective equipment who attached an IV drip to my left hand and communicated with me in sign language.
I was riddled with anxiety about my family who now had to get checked. I heaved a huge sigh of relief when I received the news of their negative results a couple of days later.
The…