First person: 'When I tested positive for COVID-19 without symptoms'

TNIE lensman R Satish Babu chronicles his two-day stay in the COVID ward (asymptomatic) of Tamil Nadu Government Multi Super Speciality Hospital, after testing positive for coronavirus.

It was a few minutes past noon on a Tuesday when I got a call from the Corona Control Room. I was at an assignment in Rajiv Gandhi Government General Hospital. When I stepped out to pick up the call, the news was not what I expected. “You have been tested positive,” said a voice from the other side.

This was the second time I voluntarily got myself tested for COVID-19. While I did not have any symptoms, I am in a field where there is a high risk of exposure to the virus. I took the first test a month ago. When I heard ‘positive’, my world came crumbling down. I parked my motorbike on a kerb, and let all my emotions and thoughts run through me. It took me an hour to gain my composure. In those sixty minutes, I felt like I had walked into a dark, melancholic cloud filled with doubts and fears — What will happen to my family? Will I get my salary if I have to quarantine myself? Will I be asked to move out of my apartment? As I started seeing these fears, the clouds moved a bit to allow some sunshine to soak me in a few rays of positivity. ‘It is just 14 days of quarantine and I will be back to normal,’ I said to myself.

Collecting my calm, I went home, had lunch, packed my bags, and while leaving, I told my mother that I tested positive. She bawled, and feared for me. By then the news had spread to my colleagues, peers and friends. My wife, who was staying at her mother’s place, heard the news from me much later. She wept. My mother’s and my wife’s unstoppable tears worried me and lowered my morale.

Feeling the weight of their fears, I somehow got myself admitted at the Tamil Nadu Government Multi Super Speciality Hospital (Omandurar building). When I met the doctor, he assured me that 99.9 per cent I will be able to defeat the virus as I was asymptomatic. I was in the hospital for 52 hours. After a series of tests, I was admitted at 7 pm and discharged two days later at 4 pm.

On the day of admission, I received messages and calls from so many colleagues and friends, with whom I had not been in touch for so long. It made me feel better and I was happy that people cared.

The hospital has several wards — separate for men and women — depending on the intensity of the symptoms. I was asymptomatic and accordingly given a cubicle. Our ward had around 30 beds, each distanced as per protocols. We were allowed to do whatever we wanted within our cubicle. We were also allowed to interact with other patients but from our own cubicle.

But the ward reeked of anxiety — of losing life, of not being able to meet loved ones, of possibly having passed on the virus to someone, and of our health taking a turn for the worse. Under this blanket of worry, every patient put on a brave front, following all instructions to win the virus war. Our ward had one doctor, dressed completely in personal protective equipment. We could never see his face. He was the only one allowed inside the ward. He would do the regular check-up, give us medicines, and also clean the ward. Hygiene was paramount. The ward was cleaned twice a day. The food that was provided to us was also neatly packed. We were given nutritious meals, which included soup thrice a day in the evening, and dishes with less salt, but they were all tasty. The nurses would keep the meal plates outside the ward and ask us to pick it up.

The clean surroundings, nutritious meals, and positive attitude of the doctor in-charge gave my family and me a renewed hope. After our breakfast and dinner, our medicines, which were wrapped in a paper, would be given to us.

In those two days, looking at the plateful of food, in front of me, I realized that I had not been eating properly, owing to my work schedule. I slept less at night, thinking of all the ways this could have gone wrong — What if I had had symptoms? What would happen to my family? How will I get back to my new normal? A wave of gratitude engulfed me. Now, at home, I make it a point to eat well and on time. Those two days, and the following quarantine, came as a much-deserved break though not the way it should have been. And when you love your job too much, you cannot stay far from it. I decided to document my time in the COVID ward.

On the day of discharge, another man was admitted. He seemed depressed and tense. He was on his bed, refusing to eat. I tried motivating him. He told me that he was a cashier at a shop in Koyambedu, and had followed all the hygiene practices of wearing a mask and gloves, washing his hands frequently, etc. Yet the virus had found its way into his body. This made me think about how powerful the virus is.

After I was discharged, another rude shock awaited me when I reached my apartment. The apartment association members were not ready to let me in even though I had informed them about my admission and discharge. They feared getting infected. After 30 minutes of convincing and making them understand what it means to be asymptomatic, I was allowed to enter my house. The first thing I saw after coming home was my smiling mother. Her fears too had passed. I was to be home-quarantined for 20 days — 14 days in the same room, and six days of moving around the house. The association members apologized a few minutes after I reached home and they have now been helping us with anything we need.

The COVID ward is not a place anyone wants to be in. But while I was there, I decided to let this experience be married to my passion for photojournalism. After all, it is not every day that you get to click pictures inside a high-risk area.

(As told to Anushree Madhavan)