What happens when you're talking about how a certain someone, who lives very close to you, being tested positive? "Corona has come so close," we caution each other, "we must stay safe!" And then a few distant relatives talk about washing hands thoroughly and urge to steam the face. "Allow the steam to enter your nose and release via your mouth and then take it in through your mouth and release via your nostrils." Okay, noted. 

We were taking utmost care but dad had to make a few work visits here and there and it made him sick: cold, cough and a hot body. And considering it is Shravan, the season with the notorious play of sun and rain, falling sick is highly likely. Unfortunately, it was just me and my dad here so I had to look after him, cook, and manage a full-time job side by side. After a couple of days, I fell sick too, and it was obvious. We'd been visiting the doctor but she never asked us to do any Covid test so we were relaxed. I'd even asked her if a Covid test was needed, but she discarded both times. 

We kept monitoring the oxygen saturation and though mine always showed 98, dad's oxygen level was falling. It was 93. And I'd heard anything below 95 is alarming. It made me anxious. My dad was adamant to do a Covid test and honestly, I was scared as well. 

The evenings would make me terrified. He would look and behave like a bedridden old man. He would walk slowly, tremble, and never sounded optimistic. He was tired of feeling this way. Sometimes he would just lay on the bed in the evening and sleep. I remember staying awake and checking on him in the middle of the night because of his condition. 

My friends would ask about our health, and everything I would say hinted towards Covid. Our sense of both smell and taste was gone, we assumed it is due to cold and medicines. The fever would touch 101 and then fall to 99. Finally, we called someone home to collect our samples for the RT-PCR test. It was 12th August.

The next morning around 10.15 am when I had already logged in for work, I get a call from the test centre. "Hi Rutuja Madam, your covid test results are out; both you and your dad are tested positive." 

Our first reaction was a brief moment of silly happiness as it meant both of us were in it together. We video called mom and stood close to each other. "We're both covid positive!" we grinned. It had been five days we were maintaining distance and finally, we could come closer and fit inside one mobile screen, like normal people. 

The moment of happiness faded and we started worrying about what to do next. We informed our friends and families. I was scared. My dad's oxygen level had dropped to 92 then. We made a few calls and everyone suggested we hospitalised dad before the oxygen drops any further. 

A lot of my friends recently lost their fathers due to Covid so I was extremely scared to admit my dad. I had seen him up close, his evening behaviour, during which he was tired of coughing and having such a weak body. I don't trust hospitals one bit because I've lost my grandparents and my maternal aunt. Besides, outsider visits are not allowed, which meant, they could do anything to my dad and I would sit here helpless. Hospitals are like mazes; once the patient goes in, what if he doesn't return? 

Hundreds of such negative thoughts fluttered in but I had to bring my dad's oxygen level up. I made a few calls, spoke to a few people who had been Covid patients, they gave me hope and tried to fill in some positivity. I started crying because it's my father right there! He's 60 and I had never seen him that way. He's always taken people to the hospital but never been the one getting admitted. I had never seen him sick, hopeless, and pessimistic. 

Looking at me, my dad had tears. We hugged each other and I told my dad, as dramatic as I can be, "You have to play with your grandchildren. You have to come home safe and healthy. I need you; please fight back and come home soon." He nodded as tears fell down his cheeks. Father and daughter share a deep bond and since both of us are emotional and family-oriented, this session had to happen. We hugged and cried thrice that morning as my baba was getting hospitalised. 

My cousin who stays nearby called and asked me to stay at home since I too was sick. He called for an ambulance, while I packed two bags for dad. I remember packing t-shirts, pants, boxers, underwear, blanket, masks, toothbrush, a towel, napkins, cotton, thermos, socks, a wallet and a travel-sized deodorant. I don't know how I managed to collect all this amidst a panicky head, but I did. 

The ambulance was here and my dad went down, with fear in his heart, stupid coronavirus ruling over his lungs, and fear whether he would ever get to visit the home again. I saw him go from our window and cried for a really long time. "Come back soon, baba," I whispered. 

Soon he video called from the hospital and looking at him, I was delighted. Over six days, the hospital supplied oxygen to him, gave remdesivir injections, nebulisers to kill the virus, and medicines. Meanwhile, the corporation guys shared medicines with me and I would take them. A total of 13 medicines day and night on day 1 followed by 8 medicines day and night from the second day on for five days. 

Meanwhile, someone had shared a quote by Sadguru on Instagram, which made me hopeful and positive. 

My friends and aunt would send me food, bring groceries. Cousins, family members would call me twice a day to check on me. A few friends sent me cupcakes and chocolates. Overall, the first two crucial days had me on call, talking to someone or the other the whole day. I remember breaking down on the calls on the first day but somehow as the days passed, I grew stronger. 

My dad's HRCT score was reduced to 8 from 12, which was good in a way. He would tell us on calls about oxygen supplies. How the supply frequency changed from 4 times a day to 1 hour on the last day. It was time for him to come home! 

All I prayed to God was to give me back my playful and cheerful dad who is always on his toes, who sits on the computer working and who is full of life. And today, although there is not much improvement in his oxygen level, his cheerful temperament is back. Right now he is roaming around the house with his earbuds on and a white vest, playful as ever!

Some emergencies and setbacks really teach you a lot of things. You learn who really wishes well for you, who cares for you, and who is willing to actually help you out such as bring food, bring groceries, give food to the one hospitalised, call you without fail every day to check on you, etc. 

I pray everyone suffering from Covid gets better soon. And I feel sorry for those who lost their loved one due to Covid.