It was zero degrees when my daughter Hannah picked me up early on that Friday morning. First we headed straight to the coffee shop for a last hooray – and a coffee. Next stop was the Chadstone Shopping Centre Carpark. By the time we arrived, there were already at least 100 cars lined up in front of us. Not for the sales but for Covid-19 testing. As the latest outbreak of the virus in Victoria is escalating so is the testing. We followed the signs. Covid-19 testing this way.
The huge cotton bud
As we were going round and round the bollards and up and down the ramps moving a couple of metres every ten minutes or so, I started thinking about my little grand-daughter Alana. She had a recent trip to hospital with a high fever and shocking rash. At 15 months, she was so brave and thought it was a great game when the huge cotton bud was trying to attack her tiny nose. She was giggling and pushing it away. But the nurse won out in the end. She cried. Her nose bled. But thankfully she didn’t have the virus. She had a thing called roseola.
So full of admiration
I am so full of admiration for the people doing the testing; nurses, doctors, traffic attendants, admin people and a heap of others just as important. Some traffic attendants must have drawn the short straw because they didn’t have the luxury of being under cover in the carpark. They were directing the traffic outside in the blustery conditions. Sleet, rain, wind. It was all happening.
Your right nostril is too small …
We finally got to the front of the queue and willingly presented our noses and throats to the testing people. Poor Han. She had both nostrils swabbed. After attempting to swab her right nostril, the nurse then had a go at her left nostril. ‘Your right nostril is too small,’ she said. I watched on with horror as the long swab disappeared up my daughter’s nose and the tears rolled down her cheeks. That was followed by a gag as it was shoved down her throat. I couldn’t wait for my turn.
How it really was …
The following is a text conversation of the experience between daughters, Hannah and Sarah. And the L stands for Lade. That’s me. My kids call me Lade most of the time. It’s short for Lady.
S. How did the tests go?! Did it hurt?
L. Not really Sare. Just very uncomfortable. (I lied to give her peace of mind in case she ever had to have a test. I had my reasons).
H. Be honest lade, it was bloody awful! They poke the swab so far up your nose it almost disappeared tears were flowing out of our eyes! And they shove it right to the back of your throat until it makes you gag!
L. Yes sorry I lied. I was downplaying it in case Sarah ever has to have one. Don’t want her to be scared.
S. LOL. Sounds awful!!! Some people must have thrown up on those poor workers.
H. They would have, definitely.
S. Why do they have to go so far into your nose I wonder? So awful. (As an ex-nurse, Hannah gets lots of queries like that. We think she knows all the answers to our medical questions).
H. Honestly it went in so far. I have no idea why! I won’t be going back for another test anytime soon that’s for sure!
L. Han, maybe that’s why 1000 refused Covid-19 testing. They’d heard how horrible it is …..
And now for the results
Anyway we got our test results back today. Both negative. Whoohoo. Even though we thought we’d be negative, it was still an anxious wait.