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Last week my husband felt really fatigued and felt "sinusy." It didn't get any better so he went down for a Covid test; in twenty-four hours his negative results came back. Thinking he just had a cold, and that the incessant rain and damp weather might be part of the problem, he went on about his routine.
Tuesday, this week, I was at school when I noticed a dry, non-productive cough come up. I was tired. No fever. I decided to take Wednesday off and rest; but then fever started. I went to Urgent Care and got a rapid test.
Positive.
I've got to say, the fella at Oschner Urgent Care was wonderful; his enthusiasm for his job was great! He was so pleasant and he asked if it was my first Covid test.
"Yes..." I said. He could sense my panic as he held this very long swab in his gloved hand.
He explained exactly what would happen; I said okay and he did the test.
He sent me back out to my car and said he'd call in ten minutes.
In five he called. "You are POSITIVE for Covid-19!" like I'd won the lottery.
"You're kidding..." I said.
"I would NOT kid about something like that!" He gave me the stay at home directions, told me Oschner would be reaching out to check on me, and that was it.
Once my positive results came back, Steve went to Urgent Care and did a rapid test; Positive.
So, here we are.
I feel like he should be on the tail end of his Covid because we both feel like he was positive last week but just tested too soon. An article in the Washington Post explains:
Early in an infection, the virus may not have reproduced enough to be detectable. The false negative rate of PCR tests on the day of exposure is 100 percent, but falls to about 38 percent five days later as symptoms usually set in, according to an analysis published in the Annals of Internal Medicine. The rate decreases further, to about 20 percent, after three more days.
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