It was the day I got up a little later than usual. Maybe a lot later than usual, because when my eyes fully opened, there was a new tv table in the bedroom, a new water pitcher in the fridge, a room deodorizer and a different brand of stain remover near the washing machine. The hose was going full bore outside, and when I looked out, it seemed Carol had even washed down the lizards. “They looked dusty.” All this before breakfast. Clearly, the end of the lockdown couldn’t come soon enough, certainly for Carol.

The week before, Carol had gone to Costco for her annual hearing test and to replace her hearing aids. They’d informed her the new ones would be ready in two weeks. A couple of days later, Costco called to reschedule the pickup, due to the technician’s illness. “Weird that they’re projecting her being sick for that long,” Carol mused. Remembering the technician had mentioned she had a cold raised Carol’s suspicions even more, she called and confirmed her fear. “She’s got the virus.” And thus we entered the Covid-19 arena first hand. Carol’s been tested and we’re awaiting results.

“Carol, at one point, had even asked me to fart. Those of you who know me personally would know that under no circumstances would I ever be requested by anyone to fart in their presence.”

But here’s the thing. We’re both assessing every little cough, sneeze, burp, belch, sniffle, unsteadiness on foot, deep breath or any other normal bodily eructation as symptoms of the disease now. Carol swore her throat was scratchy. I woke up in the middle of the night with a headache, cramps and a slight feeling of nausea. I’m pretty sure the nausea was psychosomatic, and the other “symptoms” had disappeared by morning.

Carol, at one point, had even asked me to fart. Those of you who know me personally would know that under no circumstances would I ever be requested by anyone to fart in their presence. But Carol was merely applying the acid test to a possible loss of her sense of smell, a telltale symptom of the virus. (Not to put too fine a point on it, I was able to affirm for her all was well in that department later that morning.)

But I think you can see mass paranoia on a granular scale at work here. This is our closest contact with the pandemic to date (none of our extended family members have as yet tested positive), and given what it can do to a healthy pair of lungs, we know we’re not dealing with the flu. And becoming part of contact tracing at this late date shows we’re nowhere near out of the woods even on the first wave. It all has the decided feel that we’re just starting over again.

There was going to be a small, safe-distance family gathering yesterday that Carol had to pass on, while she awaits results. It also means that any previous thoughts about getting back to normal (we were planning a weekend getaway) are taken off even the back burner. The reality that the virus, not us, will decide when it’s had enough of its pandemic performance, is sinking in. Poor lizards, if they don’t like being hosed down on a regular basis.

I guess the only silver lining is I may be called upon from time to time to retest Carol’s sense of smell, which for me anyway, will be a new found freedom I’ve never known before.