Today is Good Friday.
It is also three weeks ago today that my husband was hospitalized for COVID-19. And it’s two weeks since his fever broke and we began looking forward to his return home. We had assumed it would be well in time for Easter.
But this morning he got the results back from swab test. It was taken from the isolation facility where he is hospitalized in Singapore where we currently live.
I’m still testing positive, he messaged.
He won’t be tested again now until Monday. Which, given that Singapore requires two consecutive negative tests before discharging COVID-19 patients, means that the earliest he will be home is next Wednesday, nearly four weeks since he was admitted…. that is if he tests negative on Monday.
Of course, I’m not the only person who is not feeling particularly joyous during this Holy Week. I know there are millions of people, of every faith tradition and of no faith traditions at all, who will spend this weekend feeling a little, or a lot, disheartened in some way. Some will already be fighting off the ‘black dog’ of depression.