Two years. Eight million masks. 14 shots. Countless declined invitations and awkward conversations. So, so many nasal swabs.
Our school district handed out home tests this week and Eli took one yesterday, in advance of a wrestling tournament this weekend. He tests 1-2 times per week for wrestling, so he’s old hat at this. It’s a formality and probably over cautious since all the wrestlers would get tested at weigh in, but since it was an away match the coach figured it would be better to test before everyone traveled. Spoiler alert: we are not at a wrestling tournament.
We’ll test everyone else tomorrow. For now he’s holed up in his room and wears an N95 anytime he leaves, but looking at the school quarantine rules, that might be unnecessary since the girls might have to stay home the same amount or maybe even longer. He’s going stir crazy. Quarantine isn’t fun or novel anymore and we’ve watched all of the things by now.
I am grateful that we’re all as vaccinated as we could be. I wish I’d jumped on boosters sooner. So far everyone feels fine, which is simultaneously frustrating and reassuring. Part of me hopes that everyone tests positive tomorrow so we can be done running from the unknown. The other part of me knows how lucky we are and that we shouldn’t press it. I laughed at the CDC’s new guidelines but now I’m definitely benefitting from them. Trust the scientists, right?
I worried that this would feel like a failure and I’m surprised that it doesn’t. I’m glad that it doesn’t. I hesitated to put anything out there, but I also hope that other people won’t feel like their efforts were wasted if they get hit too. We avoided infection clear up to the “highly contagious but mostly mild to no symptom” variant, which is the one I’d pick if I had to pick one.