Fedore Writer

My sister and I felt empathy for the eight-hundred passengers that recently tested positive on a cruise in Australia, halting their travels.

This past July, in our France river-cruise cabin, I woke to find my sister asleep with a pink and white fabric mask over her mouth.

Weird. She wore her mask last night?

My sister woke and said, “I was coughing and sneezing last night, and I think I might have a fever.” I noticed her bangs were plastered to her forehead and face was pale. Then she spoke the dreaded words: “I’m wearing a mask to protect you. I think I need to take a Covid test.”

I’m a semi-retired school principal and my sister is a retired registered nurse, so both our Covid protocols kicked into gear.

I visited the front desk clerk to tell him my sister might have Covid and needs to be tested. As anticipated, she tested positive.

The cruise director informed us that we were required to remain in our cabin for the remainder of the trip. Every possible negative emotion flowed through us as we processed this news.

Our first instinct was to try to figure out how she might have contracted Covid, and we both felt bitter towards the person that infected her. Was it the passenger, who had been coughing her head off, sitting behind my sister on the flight? My sister and I sat in separate areas because our flight had been changed the day prior to departure. I must have been far enough away from the cougher.

In addition, during the days prior to my sister testing positive, we heard at least four cruise passengers coughing and sniffling in common areas and on the buses.

With time on my hands, my mind spun itself into a froth over the unfairness of telling the truth about my sister’s symptoms. These other passengers were roaming free – free to hike at a winery, free to explore quaint towns and free to enjoy dining room service – while my sister and I were captives in our cabin. Of course, the other passengers may have had just a common cold but a brain in captivity doesn’t think as rationally as it should.

We came all this way with all this expense to stay in a two-hundred-and-eighty square foot cabin, both masked hoping I would remain Covid-free. The upside was that we received sumptuous meals three times a day, luckily had rented a cabin with a veranda so we could sit outside as often as the heatwave would allow and borrowed large golf umbrellas for shade.

Then my frothy mind would settle on the fact that we did the right thing by reporting a Covid case.

Even though some people might have thought our double masks on the flights and in airports was overkill, we look back and realize we probably protected other people. We learned the day after my sister tested positive that someone closer to home had tested positive and was the likely exposure and not the cougher on the plane or the ship’s passengers.

But this isn’t necessarily a missive about exposure or protection. It’s about my sister and me trying to find peace with reporting a case – telling the truth – no matter the consequences.

On the second to last day of our cruise, the director checked in with us. I had remained symptom-free, and my sister’s fever was gone and cough generally quieted. The director delivered good news that she would allow us to join the Saturday canoeing excursion provided we wear masks when near others.

Looking back, we joke that we were given a reprieve for good behavior.