Monday, May 18th, in the 11 am hour, I was subjected to a COVID-19 test.  Before I tell you how that 'walk in the park' went, how about a little background.

Back in November, I felt a sharp twinge in my left knee while exercising.  I chalked it up to my age and my history of cartilage issues.  Several weeks went by and I noticed the pain wasn't quite the same as other knee problems that I had experienced in the past.  So, a trip to my orthopedist and subsequent MRI revealed a torn meniscus.  A scope to inspect and repair the damage was suggested.

Now, let's fast forward to this period in which elective surgeries are once again allowed.  I picked up my surgery information form from my doctor and took it to the hospital so that I could pre-register.

I glanced at the form and tried to pronounce the different procedures that may be performed.  Synovectomy, chondroplasty, meniscectomy...the stranger the words, the more expensive the surgery, I guess.

I chuckled to myself when I saw that the patient (me) would be allowed to wear his own underwear during the procedure.  But, as I looked further, there I saw it.  COVID-19 Test.  Why would I need that?  I had no fever, no questionable interactions, heck, when I see a car with a New York license plate I move to the other lane.

It was explained to me that it is now standard that anyone having surgery must have a COVID-19 test.  I had already heard my share of horror stories about this test.  Here's a collection of some of the phrases that I had heard when it came to how far the test swab went into your nostril:

  • You could see the swab in the corner of my eye
  • It touched my brain
  • It touched my cerebral cortex
  • It touched my hypothalamus, I don't know what that is...but it touched it
  • It touched my neighbor's brain
  • It struck oil
  • my eyes changed color
  • When the swab was taken out, there were some artifacts from the Titanic on it

Needless to say, I was concerned.

When I was 14 I had broken nose.  The doctor fixed it by wrapping tape around a Popsicle stick, shoving it up my nose and moving the nose back into place.  It was traumatic.  I haven't eaten Popsicles since.

So, this morning at 11:35 am, the nurse called me into the lab and I removed my mask.  She told me to tilt my head back as she swabbed both my nostrils...and...nothing.  My pinkie usually digs deeper into my nose when searching for wayward mucus.  She explained to me that the deep swab method is not the standard used anymore.

Yay!!  My eyes, brain, neighbor's brain, and Titanic thank you!

One side note, please don't mention this to my wife and kids. I'm still going to try to milk this test for as much sympathy as I can.

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