I had hoped me and the crew would skate by without an incident this year. We have been tested regularly, took all precautions, masks, worked remotely since March, more hand sanitizer than seemed reasonable, etc.
Flying home from Arizona on Wednesday I was watching a couple walk down the aisle toward their seats. The husband, looking in mid-60's is sweating and is the closest version of "death on a platter" I've seen in a while. They plop down one row ahead of me and across the aisle. Instantly he is coughing his lungs out. To get more breath while coughing, he would lower his mask to his chin.
I look at Marcus who is seated behind me. We share a common look that if ever we have seen someone with COVID, that guy is it.
Through out the hour-long flight he coughs every few minutes. Wife is in the window seat, he's in the aisle. When he coughs, he turns toward the aisle, turning slightly red, then almost blue, eventually slumping back in his seat when the session is over.
Glancing around as other watch the same, I can tell I am not the only person wondering, "How did this get get allowed on this plane."
Get home Wednesday afternoon. Work from home that day, Thursday, Friday. Hmm. Maybe the guy on the plane was just a hard smoker and needed some more Camel non-filters to keep him rested.
I wake up Saturday morning to a 99.7F fever. Text my doc/hunting friend about the fever. With my underlying liver condition, he gets me tested ASAP. By Saturday night I'm a complete imitation of the guy on the plane. Mrs. Fin thinks I'm gonna need a lung transplant. Sunday morning is worse. Body aches, coughing, fever, thinking the man on the pale horse might be waiting for me out on the porch. Monday is not as bad.
This morning the results are in - positive. Explaining to the doctor where I had been and what I was exposed to, the most likely culprit is the flight home.
Fever is gone this morning. Cough is not as bad. Body aches still beyond what my age of 56 years old should provide. Thankful it seems to be trending better. If the trend on Sunday had continued, I am sure hospitalization would have been the option today. Still have my taste and smell.
Now, isolating for two weeks. Thankful it was only as bad as it was, and not worse.
Reflecting on the irony of all the precautions I have taken, along with my crew. All the tests we have submitted to before traveling. And then, on the last day of the last trip of a 100-day season, I get seated next to someone on a plane that likely was positive.
Fortunately Marcus was a row behind me. He is symptom free at this point and in the wilds of Idaho helping Michael on an elk hunt. Hoping he doesn't have it.