Don’t panic. I don’t have any symptoms, I haven’t been exposed to anyone with a confirmed case of The Virus, and I have not travelled internationally in the past 30 days. Sadly, I have barely left the county.
So why did I get a big Q-tip shoved up my nose today? Because apparently a COVID-19 test is the newest addition to pre-op protocol.
Pre-op? As in pre-operation? As in surgery?
Yep! Surgery #6 is on the horizon! (Well, actually #7 if you want to count an oral surgery-ish a couple of years ago that involved stitches and prayers I wouldn’t have to relinquish my tooth. Since I got to keep my tooth and the whole thing was mostly a frustration in having a limited diet, I tend to forget to include it in my History of Surgical Fun.)
It’s a longish story, which I might share at some point, but the punch line is that back in September, I wore some high-quality, well-constructed, respon$ible sandals. And my right foot HATED them.
It took 8 months and all the insurance-required “conservative therapies” to finally get an MRI that sang a beautiful song to my languishing heart and achy foot: “Peroneus brevis split tear.” Or, to spare you the Googling, a lengthwise tear in a tendon nearish my ankle.
My poor foot --- and my spirit --- have been pained about 95% of the time for the past 8 months. So having a clear cause and a proven fix to this really distracting podiatric adventure is incredibly good news. I am super duper excited to have a foot surgery! Day after tomorrow!
When I was told I would be required to get a COVID-19 test prior to surgery, I gotta be honest --- I was pretty nervous. Naturally, I instantly started a microscopic assessment of my body, wondering if I had just taken a shallow breath and was that a new soreness tickling the back of my throat? And when did I last cough? Do I have a fever, or is that just another hot flash? Oh, the mind…or at least mine…is a powerful and dangerous thing.
Talking myself down off the hypochondriac ledge, I was still left with unease. I have heard about these Q-tip-on-steroids tests.
From what I have heard – mostly through the media and tiny hints from friends who have first-hand experience – the nose probe is not a fun time. “It’s a huge Q-tip that is stuck up your nose and feels like it touches your brain.” “It makes you gag and is horribly uncomfortable.” “A necessary evil on a stick.”
Even Tanisha, my nurse today, joked about being kicked by her last patient as the cotton swab scraped around looking for mucus. “And I assure you, we have not found any brain cells on any of the samples…yet.” (Clearly, Tanisha is punchily finding her own humor in her essentially dangerous job.)
Tanisha explained the process for the test as she gowned up. She was double-masked, with an eye shield, and her gloves carefully trapped the sleeves of her disposable PPE. She looked ready to hunt down E.T.
I scanned the exam room for an enormous Q-tip. I envisioned something not all that different from this:
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| In other news, I should probably dust. |
Instead, Tanisha grabbed one of these from a stack and verified my info as she ripped open the package.
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| Tanisha suggested I not take a photo of my sample because it had my identification info on it, plus ewwwww. |
The Q-tip was long but not bulky. Pretty teensy compared to what I was expecting.
Tanisha told me to lean back. As I did, I carefully noted the position of my feet to hopefully minimize reflective shin kicking.
A tissue at the ready and warnings that if I had to cough, it was ok since she had her face shield, the Q-tip flew into the hangar of my nose. It poked and scraped and probed as I waited for it to be something worth talking about.
Tanisha took the swab out and dug around in the other nostril. Maybe there was a blockage in the first one?
“Ok, that’s it. We’re all done.”
What?! Seriously?? That was it?!? THAT’S the big deal??
My COVID-19 test was so much a nothing burger! It felt like a dry Q-tip was scratching the upper portion of my nostrils. That’s it. That’s all it felt like because that’s all it was. No sensations of invaders near my brain, nothing tickling my throat. No gagging, no coughing, no watery eyes, no nose drips. Most important to Tanisha, no kicking. Honestly, getting a shot of Novocain is a lot worse and more invasive. The Q-Tip Test was frankly pretty forgettable.
I have been told I have a high pain tolerance (see Exhibit 94: walking on a 2-inch tendon tear for 8 months), so maybe this would be a bigger deal to someone else. Or, perhaps not all COVID-19 tests are the same and I got an easy one. Or, perhaps social media is a big fat liar.
Regardless, I was actually somewhat disappointed I don’t have a better, more dramatic, more compelling tale to tell of my brush with the latest initiation rite of 2020.
But then I realized that the story IS worth telling if for no other reason than to bring peace and to calm some nerves for others who might need to get tested. Far as I'm concerned, the test is no biggie, including the Q-tip.
As for the results, I'm still waiting to hear. But it is one test I am happily expecting to fail with flying colors.
UPDATE: Test results received in less than 9 hours! Negative! Let's get this surgery show on the road!
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