"I was trying to get home from London when Covid-19 took an upsurge, but my flights kept getting cancelled, until finally there was a flight back. That day, the airport was full of people struggling to get home.When I got home, I felt exhausted and started getting chills, so I went to the hospital to get tested. The next day, I tested positive. I broke down- I felt alone and scared.
The first few days were hell. My fever took a toll on me and I didn't feel like doing anything. But my parents and boyfriend constantly tried to lift my spirits. My boyfriend planned cute FaceTime dates. I'm a makeup brand owner, so dad would surf through my makeup and send it to me so I could work from the hospital, and mom sent me home-cooked meals every day. But it hurt to not meet them. Every day, I'd pray to get better, but my symptoms kept resurfacing.
I kept testing positive, but on day 25, I tested negative. I needed one last negative till I could get discharged. I was hopeful, but 2 days later, I tested positive twice.At that point, I started giving up. It was only the thought of my family waiting for me that kept me going.
A few days later, I tested negative. The hours I spent waiting for the next test were the longest. To keep my spirits high, the nurses and I did a little dance.Then I heard the head nurse shout my name, 'Natasha!' She sounded happy. 'Congratulations, you're negative, and good to go home!' I couldn't believe it. 34 days in, I could finally go home. I screamed with joy.
It's been a few weeks since I've been back. The 34 days I spent here have been a wake up call. I've started eating healthier and working out again.But I still think about the times I felt so breathless and thought, 'What if this is it?' But I snap back when I see my parents laughing and watching TV or when my boyfriend calls just to tell me he loves me; I don't think anything else has mattered as much."
Human of Bombay, Fb
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