Thinking Allowed: Watched Pots

Entertaining ourselves in quarantine is likely the easiest part of the ordeal. It requires continued motivation, and structure, and variation but, all in all, the time passes quickly and, mostly, enjoyably. I would say that the psychological part of quarantine is more draining - we are not used to observation and scrutiny. International travellers are a threat to Australian COVID efforts. The entire second wave of the virus, which has forced Melbourne into lockdown, is due entirely to breaches in the quarantine system. As a result the quarantine measures are even stricter and the national sentiment towards those quarantining is one of repressed (or unrepressed) anger. But even that is not as exhausting as the daily scrutiny and quasimodoesque fear. I opened the door to put out the garbage at the exact moment someone was stealthily dropping off our meals (usually literally drop and run). They jumped back in fear and scurried off.

Unless we call the front desk with a question or request, our only interactions with the world outside our window are the daily calls from the nurses. Each morning they phone us to ask about what our emerging symptoms are. At first we appreciated the change in activity the call brought, and they really are nice nurses, but as the days dragged on, the call began to make us weary. Like watched pots that never boil. And the nurses, our only contact with the outside, never tell any jokes when they call. Similarly, the only people who come to the door are the nurses who test us for covid. This has left Zadie even more fearful of humans, as despite how sweet they are, they conduct a test that makes our children cry and scream in fear and discomfort. It will be interesting reentering normal life.

The fire alarm went off the other day. Our well-trained instincts kicked in. Fire alarm. Nearest exit. Go go go. No. Wait. We can't go. We peeked out of the door unsure of how to proceed. They made an announcement instructing us to stay in our rooms. Is it quarantine to the death? The alarm kept blaring. I peeped out of the peephole expectantly. Eventually the alarm went off and everything was deemed safe. But I think it caused some worry. Did someone set the alarm to try and escape? Maybe they thought so because the National Police came knocking on our door (this was a big deal to have a non nurse at our door) to do a visual headcount of our family.

Now we have 3 days left to quarantine and we are nervously awaiting the results of our final test which will determine our fate. If any of us tests positive we will have weeks more of the same. And if we all test negative a group of army personnel, policemen, hotel staff, and nurses comes to our door all together to issue us bracelets. I am not sure which sounds more frightening.