I am the Highway

"I am not your autumn moon. I am the night."

My co-resident tested positive. The four of us at X Hospital sit in a cramped closet-converted-to-workroom each day. I looked up the testing protocol at X Hospital.

HIGH RISK EXPOSURE

[ ] Direct exposure within 6 feet. CHECK.
[ ] Prolonged exposure, greater than 10 minutes. CHECK.
[ ] Unprotected exposure or exposure to secretions of a known positive COVID-19 individual. CHECK. 

The other co-residents and I called Employee Health this afternoon. We have been instructed to self-quarantine and to drive to the covid tent tomorrow for testing.

I feel fine. Or... do I really feel fine? What's this junk in my throat? What's this tightness in my chest? Is it getting harder to breathe? Is that a chill coming on? Am I infected, or am I just a hypochondriac?

It's hard to spend much time online these days. Inevitably I end up down a COVID-19 wormhole that becomes a one-way ticket to rage. Today I read this article on Slate, titled "Who Do We Expect to Sacrifice?" It really struck the core of the anger I've been feeling towards our country's situation right now.

I am not your rolling wheels. I am the highway.

I am not your carpet ride. I am the sky.