Have you thought about what it would be like to be tested for the coronavirus? Very few of us have been. Until recently, you had to exhibit Covid-19 symptoms, have been in close contact with someone who has tested positive or have been on the front line to even be considered for a test.
But, those tests are becoming more and more available. The Williamson County Cities and Health District has set up several free drive through sites and getting an appointment is relatively easy. In fact, during a recent press call, County Judge Bill Gravell encouraged people to be tested.
So, I got one.
Not to worry. I haven’t shown any of the typical — or even atypical — symptoms. Since this mess began, I’ve largely avoided social interactions, kept my distance and observed proper hygiene. I wear a mask when I go in public. But, as a 63 year-old lung cancer survivor with COPD and high-ish blood pressure, I can reserve a pair of 6-inch swabs, a bit of re-agent and a the services of a professional to administer the test, whether I exhibit symptoms or not.
So, I did. In the interests of reportagè, of course.
You can’t just drive up to any of the testing sites so, the first thing to do is get an appointment. There’s a link on wcchd.org that sends you to the Austin Public Health website. That’s where you take the self-diagnostic. April Kelley’s related story walks you through it.
For various reasons, I wanted to have my test administered Saturday in Taylor. That location was run by the Texas Guard with support from WilCo’s Emergency Management Office. I had to jump through an extra hoop or two to get the appointment but the hassle was not onerous.
The test site was set up at Taylor’s Regional Park. It was the model of military efficiency. Earnest young men and women decked out in BDU’s, face masks and colorful latex gloves kept careful watch over the traffic areas. Their obvious competence and confidence was reassuring.
When I arrived, I stopped at the check-in station where a young man verified my ID and case number. He directed me forward. Every time I rolled my window down, I was asked, politely but firmly, to roll it back up. I simply cracked the window enough to communicate and pressed my drivers license against the glass.
At the next stop, another young man verified my ID again (through the window), then handed me a packet that contained information on the virus and guidance on what I should do if I suspected I was infected. Tucked inside of the folded copy paper was a good mask and a sheet of tissue.
He directed me to lane four.
There, a young woman in full PPE, including goggles, what I gathered was a full-on N-95 face mask and a face shield, asked me to open the door of my car, turn sideways so I nearly faced her and lower my face mask from my nose. Only my nose.
She warned that the procedure might be uncomfortable and asked that I not push her away if it became too uncomfortable. The warning was needed.
Gently, she stuck a 6-inch swab up one nostril and, as she twirled it around, she chanted, “Almost done. Almost done. Almost done,” over and over again.
It was all I could do to not recoil. I grabbed the steering wheel in one hand, and the car seat in the other. I teared up.
The swab withdrew. I wanted to sneeze, terribly …
I tried to. I shook my head and squinted against the tears.
Then, after I took a breath, she did the other nostril. The chant returned. “Almost done. Almost done. Almost done.”
I thought I would levitate out of my seat while she twirled the swab deep in my sinus.
Please understand something. It was not at all painful. It was more like … have you ever had to sneeze so much, so intensely, that it was … well, not exactly painful but very, very uncomfortable? And, at the same time, I felt a terrible itch. I wanted to shove a wadded up tissue up my nose to scratch it.
Yeah. It was like that.
It was also over in moments.
Before my eyes had cleared, still another earnestly competent young man waved me forward and out of the queue.
I’m sure I saw Judge Gravell, standing under a tree, masked, smilezing at as I left.
The only real surprise was that mine was the only car in the area. The Guard had set up multiple traffic lanes and four testing stations. The WilCo Mobile Incident Command Center was prepped and Taylor fire and police personnel crawled all over the place. I know that they were prepared to administer 130 tests Saturday. They were expecting a crowd.
I am many things but, all by myself, I am not a crowd.
But I have had a test for the Rona. I was told that the results would be back within 96 hours.
Now, we wait.
(… to be continued … )
The Ragged Edge 