COLUMN: Waiting for the fever to subside

Almost a month ago, Cindy Adrien drove to Macon from her home in rural Monroe County to run a few errands.

She had been out of her house only a handful of times since the shelter-in-place order was issued on April 2. Most of the time, Cindy and her husband, Dan, and daughter, Olivia, already are self-isolated on their property east of Culloden. Out in the country, social distancing is a way of life.

There was no need for Cindy to put on lipstick to go to the grocery store that day. She wore a mask. It didn’t matter what color nail polish she had on at Lowe’s. Her fingers were covered with gloves.

It was her protective armor, along with a bottle of hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes. She took the extra precaution of using the antibacterial solution on her gloves to prevent cross-contamination. In these times, you never can be too careful.

A few days later, on Easter weekend, she woke up feeling as if she had been run over by a tractor-trailer over on Highway 341.

It was spring, and she had a fever. But it wasn’t spring fever.

“I hurt all over,’’ she said. “I was aching, with a fever and a sore throat. I was concerned something was going on, and I thought it might be the flu. I never get a flu shot. I was going to give it a few days to see if it went away.’’

She tried to convince herself there was no reason to be alarmed. Pollen season was on the march, too, with its annual arsenal of allergies.

“I thought maybe I had worn myself out trying to do all those errands in one day,’’ she said.

By Wednesday, her illness was still hanging around like an unwanted house guest. Cindy, 51, called her doctor and discussed her symptoms. She explained that her husband was older, and that her mother has diabetes and heart issues. She didn’t want to compromise either in any way.

On Friday, Dan drove her to the Houston County Health Department in Warner Robins for a drive-thru test for COVID-19. The healthcare official stuck a swab down her nose.

“They said it would make my eyes water, and it did,’’ Cindy said. “I swear it touched my brain. But they got a good sample.’’

She was told the results could take as long as 14 days. Two weeks seemed like a long time. If she had the coronavirus, she might be over it by then.

Cindy considers herself a positive person about her life, her family, her faith, her friends and her philanthropic efforts.

But testing “positive” was not on her positivity list.

If she lived in a big city and frequented crowded stores, busy restaurants or large public gatherings, she might have considered herself a more likely candidate.

“I was shocked,’’ she said. “We live out in the middle of nowhere, in the boondocks.’’

There were anxious moments in the beginning. Every time she thought her nose might be getting stuffy or there was an unsettling cough or a rustle of her breath, she was ready to launch into the panic mode of the unknown.

“I didn’t know if I was having anxiety or trouble breathing,’’ she said. “I was scared, nervous and cautious.’’

She never believed she was in any danger zone, even as the case numbers – and the death toll – began to escalate across the country. She feels better now than she felt last week, and she felt better last week than the week before. But she has continued to run a low-grade fever and her sore throat has persisted. She cannot be cleared until she is fever-free for 72 hours, which means she must hunker down a little longer.

“I am trying to learn patience … a super extra dose of patience,’’ she said. “I just have to lean back and say, ‘God has this.’ The frustrating thing is that there are so many people who are asymptomatic. I asked about Dan and Olivia getting tested because they are quarantined with me. I was told unless they were showing symptoms, they couldn’t be tested.’’

Around the house, they jokingly refer to Cindy’s condition as the “Rona.’’ All three of them have cabin fever. You can have only so many family movie nights before the script gets old. They have enjoyed cooking meals together but would welcome a change in the menu, routine and dinner guests.

“If it was just me, I wouldn’t mind, but I feel like I’m holding Dan and Olivia back,’’ she said. “They are trapped here with me inside our little bubble. I have a 17-year-old who has been locked up in this house almost a month, and she is going crazy.’’

Cindy is concerned about the impact the coronavirus may have on her body that might show up in her advancing years.

“What is it doing inside me?” she asked. “I wonder if later on I will be asked if I ever tested positive for COVID-19, that it might be the precursor and the reason I have ‘such and such’ will come up because of that.’’

She has watched the rising tide of cases across the state and, of course, takes a special interest in the figures for Monroe County. At last count, there were about two dozen confirmed cases in a county with a population of more than 27,000.

“I am one of them,’’ she said.

It’s an exclusive club, and nobody wants to be a member.

Ed Grisamore teaches journalism at Stratford Academy in Macon. His column appears on Sundays in The Telegraph.