‘It was in the air and not in our hands’ — Nikita Chawla

She was sitting in the car with a nebulizer, as her oxygen levels dropped from 80 to 69. It was rapidly falling. We kept waiting to get her admitted into the hospital, but it was too late…

In April, as lockdowns and positivity rates struck together, there were people bidding goodbyes to their near and dear. These were the times when my family and I tested positive.

I live with my parents. In a month, Delhi was in an eccentric condition. With beds and oxygen cylinders in demand, booking a hospital room was equivalent to finding a way out of a dark hole. The health condition of my mother deteriorated, as she additionally tested positive for covid pneumonia.

We decided to admit her to Moolchand Medcity. Despite dad and me having tested positive, we drove to the hospital. As we reached, it was chaotic. The corridors were filled with people, as though a fish market. Only through my maternal uncle, who is a doctor by profession, were we able to book a room. But, thanks to bribery, the room allocated to us was given to someone else. After a 4-hour wait, we went back home.

I contacted Apollo. Thanks to my uncle, we got a bed at around 6:30–7:00. Based on previous events, thoughts like, ‘What if we don’t get this one too?’ ran across my mind. I kept recalling the hospital every 15 minutes to confirm the booking. After several paces around the house, my mother was finally admitted to the hospital. And during the time, my support systems were my friends and family, who kept refiling our supplies and dropped in food, which was a relief.

My mom was in the hospital for ten days. When she returned, she was under complete isolation. Post isolation, she had a lot of covid symptoms and we refrained from demotivating her. Because fighting covid is more of a mental battle than a physical one.

As for me, neither did my dad nor did I get admitted. Every day, from April till mid-June, I would have a 100–101 fever. I lost my taste and smell. And, being a freelance Journalist, I would always be self-motivated, but this illness took the best out of me. I used to sleep for 12 hours straight and even watching Netflix would strain my eyes. It takes 14 days to recover in general, but for me, it took more than a month to recover.

The latest update is that my family and I are doing well. I am partially vaccinated and am not as worried as I was. But, the battle has not ended. One needs to do much more while being Six Feet Apart!