Good News Follows an Outing

Over the past couple of days we have been informed by the media that we are apparently living in the middle of one of Victoria's "hot spots". Unfortunately they are not referring to a real estate hotspot, but an epicentre of COVID19 contagion. In fact, if we believed half of what is being said, we should probably not leave the house unless we are covered from head to foot in a hazmat suit with its own breathing supply.

"Anyone who has the misfortune to live in one of these infested areas should be tested immediately", we are warned.

Of course these repeated messages are obviously going to have deep impact on a person's mind - especially when you are married to a female who insists on covering herself in hand sanitizer every time she even looks out the window.

"I think we need to get tested", she informs me. "I think I might have had a sore throat once", she adds, "so I am pretty sure I must be infected".

Over the past 47 years I have learnt that it is futile to argue against that type of logic.

"When would you like to go?", I obediently asked.

She replied that she had already done her homework and she had discovered a clinic in Berwick where we could be tested without any waiting period and (best of all) it would be FREE OF CHARGE. The second part certainly interested me, so she made the call and booked us in for 1.30 pm Friday afternoon.

I tried not to think about all the horrible stories I had heard about how dreadful the test was. I had visions of enduring something akin to a frontal labotomy, with a huge probe being forced so far into my nose that it would scrape the base of my ageing brain. It was definitely nightmare material.

At the appointed time, we drove the short distance to Berwick and found the clinic. There was no huge line of waiting cars. I was not sure if that was good news or bad news. We entered the car park and were met by a young lady covered from head to foot in protective gear. I looked at her hand to see if she was carrying the huge corkscrew that she was going to drill into my head with. All she had was a clipboard.

She introduced herself as a doctor, checked our names and told us to wait. I took a few deep breaths while she disappeared back into the clinic. A short time later she emerged with a couple of plastic bags, each containg an instrument looking like an oversized cotton bud. Perhaps I could ask her to clean out my ears while she was at it ?

I was asked to open my mouth while the cotton bud was tapped around somewhere near my tonsils. Although I gagged once or twice, it was nowhere near as bad as I had been expecting. The same probe was then inserted into my nose, but fortunately it went nowhere near my brain and the process was over almost before it began. Maggie and I looked at each other as if to say "Was that it?"

We were then told that we would get our results within three days and to keep away from outside contact in that time. We drove home with a great sense of having done our duty. In all seriousness, we had no fear that we were infected, but we did want to play our part in getting the pandemic under control as quickly as possible. If a few minutes of minor discomfort is all it takes, it is a very small price to pay.

The tests were conducted on Friday afternoon and by Saturday evening we both received SMS messages informing us that there had been no traces of COVID19 in eiether of our test samples. At least it was now official.

In case anyone reading this footprint is interested in knowing where the test was carried out, it was done at the O'Shea Medical Centre in Berwick. We simply rang the clinic to make an appointment and there was NO waiting at all.Read more