I’m post-Covid and ready to travel. Why do I still feel like a pariah?

As I count down the hours to the end of my seven-day Covid isolation, I can’t help but think there’s one thing no one tells you.

As I write this, I’m nervously counting down the hours until the end of my seven-day Covid isolation.

I tested positive with a RAT on Saturday, had a few days of woozy delirium on Monday and Tuesday (if I spoke to you or emailed you on those days I apologise – I was talking in tongues) but six days later and I’m feeling fresh as a daisy, and ready to leave the house tomorrow.

Triple-vaxxed, post-infection and I’m shimmering with those fresh-milled antibodies, baby.

So why do I feel so weird about travelling anywhere?

Before the Big-C hit, I’d been planning to visit one of my best friends on the Gold Coast (one of those traitors who left Sydney to relocate north at the peak of Covid Migration Season – I am yet to fully forgive, but that’s another story). In theory, there’s no reason I can’t still go, as my trip was supposed to commence the day after I’ll be set free.

I suppose, like all things Covid, all this will become easier.

Government guidelines say that a positive Covid case can leave isolation after seven days (10 days in South Australia), as long as they have no more symptoms. That’s me. Symptom-free.

But neither my friend nor I feel great about the idea. A day or two after my diagnosis I sent her a text: “If I test neg and I’m symptom-free are you still OK for me to come on Saturday when I’m allowed out? Or will you have lingering anxiety? If you will I totally get it – you have elderly people around and unvaxxed young kids.”

“I have been thinking deeply about this!” she replied, before confessing that yes, she did feel kind of weird and that maybe we should postpone.

Another friend says that she has also been super on edge about seeing a post-Covid pal after she was cleared of her Covid infection.

“She’d done her seven days of isolation and had a negative RAT to prove it,” she says.

“But when we caught up I was hesitant to give her a kiss hello, give her the birthday hug she deserved or sit too close to her. I had irrational thoughts about this invisible virus still lingering, ready to pounce on my Covid-free self.”

It’s Covid’s last hurrah, its final evil chuckle before it leaves the building. You do your time. You sweat out your dues. You should be able to jump on a plane or hug a friend without worrying. And yet Covid has this unnerving way of getting the last word.

This is what no one told you about Covid.

It doesn’t help that the guidelines about exactly when you are and aren’t still infectious with Covid are counterintuitive, especially when the virus can still sometimes show up in tests long after it’s cleared your system. Although most people will only test positive to Covid-19 for six to 10 days after they are first infected, some people can still test positive for weeks, or even months.

There’s a reason for this, according to the experts at MIT Medical in Boston.

“Even after your immune system neutralises a virus, bits and pieces of genetic material remain in your body – like DNA evidence at a crime scene,” its website says.

“These little viral remnants degrade over time. They can’t harm you, they can’t infect anyone else, but they can cause you to continue to test positive.”

Which brings me to my next nailbiting niggle. I’m due to fly to Thailand in a month. So far I haven’t retested myself to see if the remains of the virus are still showing up in my system because I’m too nervy to see the answer.

The rules of travel are constantly evolving.

What on earth will I do if I’m still testing positive before I need to show a clean PCR test to board a plane? Will I ever shake the feeling that I’m a pariah in society that needs to be held at a distance with a 10-foot pole?

I suppose, like all things Covid, all this will become easier the more we “live with” the virus and get used to its quibbles and quirks.

Meanwhile I’ve decided to wait a few extra days before I fly to my friend in Queensland to be on the safe side. And as for Thailand? I’ll sniff that nasal swab when I come to it.