COVID Christmas comes early (Human Pursuits 24/12/21)
Anxious to know whether I was asymptomatic, I turned to Craigslist for a crucial medical tool.
VANCOUVER – When it comes to Omicron Christmas, every story starts more or less the same way: a positive test. Sure, there may be symptoms beforehand. But the positive test is leads to protocols, and the protocols are what cause plans to be upended, dinners dashed, gatherings foregone.
For Leah and I, Omicron Christmas started Wednesday, when she unfortunately tested positive. Earlier this week, her work emailed staff alerting them that some co-workers had caught the bug, and that they should monitor symptoms. Soon after, Leah became congested with a scratchy throat. Mild symptoms, sure. But a rapid test from her work confirmed what, deep in her bones, she already suspected. I was at the office when she texted me. “It’s immediately looking positive,” she wrote “fuck.”
Fuck indeed, because while Leah had developed the mildest of symptoms, and had access to rapid testing, I felt completely fine and did not. If you’ve been following the COVID situation in B.C. at all, then you know testing is currently a mess. The past week has seen the lower mainland’s few testing sites overrun, as new cases hit record highs. Unlike Alberta and Ontario, where rapid tests have been available at pharmacies and liquor stores, here, they’ve mostly been accessible through private corporations, like Leah’s workplace, or, more recently, official COVID testing sites, which again were completely swamped – with wait times spanning upwards of six hours.
Anxious to know whether I was asymptomatic, I decided to do what any good British Columbian would: I turned to Craigslist for a crucial medical tool.
While Vancouver has something of a reputation for cashing in on a crisis, I was surprised to find only a few listings online for rapid tests. Most of them were in North Vancouver, about a 30 minute drive away depending on traffic. But one was just blocks from the office. At $40 a pop, the price was about half that of the others. I fired off a quick email.
“Hey there,
Just wondering if you have any more rapid tests available? Also wondering what brand they are? I work downtown and would love to swing by to pick one up in a couple hours.”
Three minutes later, I got a response. (formatting theirs)
“Yea .I’m dt aswell.come by at 330… cash only .”
Though clearly penned by a lunatic, I was so desperate I decided to push on.
“Okay - what brand is the test?” I asked.
Two minutes later he replied. Three photos, each showing a box of Panbio rapid tests atop a white desk. A quick Google revealed they weren’t approved for sale in the U.S. Still, However, they were approved for use by Health Canada, and a study in the Lancet reported it could “improve our efforts to control transmission of SARS-CoV-2” thanks to its “short turnaround times, user friendliness, low costs and opportunities for decentralized testing.” In other words, they were probably good enough.
We agreed to meet at the Starbucks on Seymour street. He appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His right hand was covered by a blue medical glove, giving him a sort of Michael Jackson-vibe. From his raincoat he removed a plastic zip lock containing a nasal swab, a plastic test and container filled with clear liquid. “Swab your nose and then put it in the liquid,” he explained “Snap off the plastic end and then cap it and put some five dots onto the test strip.”
I nodded, knowing full well I had no clue what I was doing. As I wondered whether I could find a tutorial on YouTube, he told me that he worked at a nearby hospital, but had actually gotten the tests from his mom in Alberta. I asked him where he was from and said Calgary. “Edmonton,” I replied, trying to exude a folkiness that can only be found on the Canadian prairies. He smiled and told me he had had a ton of interest in the ad. As I handed him the $40 he said he had actually taken it down shortly after I emailed him because he felt so bad. As I made my way back to the office he moonwalked down a nearby alley.
I drove home in an Evo with all the windows rolled down and wondered if my life was going to change. Soft rain pattered against the windshield. I remembered that life is nothing but change and felt a little better.
In our upstairs bathroom, Leah – the resident rapid test expert – walked me through the process. I pressed my nostrils closed as I rolled the swab against my septum, eyes watering. After swirling the sample in the solution five times, I snapped the end off and sealed the test tube. I squirted a few dots onto the plastic test strip and watched a rush of red run down the small canal in the centre of the unit. A single line appeared next to the C. I was negative. And yet, the result was the same: an Omicron Christmas.
***
But while that meant canceling a much anticipated dinner with close friends, and double masking inside the house, it also meant something slightly kinder. As I get older, I realize that the real wonder of Christmas lies in its mythology, in the stories that it allows us to revisit. For some people that’s the birth of a saviour, or a saint who breaks into private residences to deliver presents. While my family didn’t have a lot of traditions growing up, one thing we always did was buy each person an ornament to represent the year, and that’s something I’ve carried into my relationship with Leah. Before this week, we thought we were gonna get a little sparkly margarita to represent our recent trip to Mexico. Instead, I think we’re gonna disinfect the rapid tests and hang them on highest bow.
Comments, criticisms, collaborations? Email me at ethan@humanpursuits.org, or follow me on Twitter and Instagram.
This is well written, Ethan, but should there not be a comma after the “Fuck” that precedes “indeed”?? I think so. Perhaps check with your dad.
Either way, Merry Christmas. :)
Papa Fitz.