Succumbed with no Succour- The Singapore Suckerpunch

 What I was coming down with was the real mccoy unfortunately. It had taken all of 25 months of artful dodging across UAE, India and 3 trips to Singapore, before I finally tested positive on the ART in an obscure medical center in Makati, Manila. I had to have contracted the infernal germ while in Singapore the previous week. It was one of those Friday's I have so many reasons to forget. After a gruelling week of meetings- ( the worst kind, where you have to do site visits, team dinners, travel in batches to multiple places on the same day and various sessions in conference rooms. This is the first time in more than 2 years we have had this type of week as a fact-face collective- and the location of the proverbial summit happened to be Singapore. On the face of it, that is hardly whine -worthy. In fact the notion of a free chilli crab ingestion at Jumbo Seafood is never to be scoffed at- especially if you are the kind of person who thinks about food a fair bit of the time. However, for whatever reason, I was not feeling the mirth that should have been engulfing me from all quarters by now. One reason was that I had to flip my hours for the week - as I normally work North America hours- but given the meeting was for people from everywhere, I had to adjust. So there definitely was some residual fatigue, which did not make for a surfeit of joie de vivre. As the week drew to a close I was hoping for some quiet time with a friend on Friday evening- maybe a dinner in Boat Quay at one of those joints that screened IPL games. But it was not to be, as two of my important stakeholders invited me to join them for a visit to the Casino at Marina Bay Sands. Now, I am many things, but not a gambler-never a gambler. I had no interest and could not be bothered. But off I went with the two colleagues- one Filipino and one Albertan, as I could not play spoilsport. When we reached the Marina Bay Sands mall, we realised it had been brimming with visitors- locals, tourists, hangers-on, diners and shoppers- they were all bloody there.  The plan was for us to grab a bite before hitting the Casino. We must have walked for one hour- back and forth, up and down- just all over the damned place. Every restaurant we tried to enter shut us out quite summarily. No vacancy. It did not matter if we chose a middling joint or a Michelin Star outfit. No one would have us. I cannot remember the last time I had felt this shunned by the universe. And to top it all, I had skipped lunch in the blissful anticipation of a comely dinner at Boat Quay or thereabouts. A Korean barbecue maybe-some succulent red meat followed by chilled icy noodles.  Or even an overpriced curry house for a spot of butter chicken and dal makhani mopped off with some butter naans-that classic meal that one craves for sooner rather than later if one happens, at a post-deniable level, to be from the Indian subcontinent. So here I was wandering aimlessly with two colleagues who were both less peckish and more enthused about gambling than I. I have to say that I found myself to be at a distinct disadvantage thus far this evening. For our meal, in the end we had to go the Food Court- which by the way, is probably the most expensive food court in Singapore. Few things are as disappointing as paying three times the price for street food and noting that the quality is about a third of the street version. But pangs of such an utter hunger render disappointment somewhat toothless, if you know what I mean. And here too was an ocean of human traffic, occupying almost every table in the vast common seating area. We found a place, jostling with other diners who were too close for comfort in closely packed tables. However, our masks were down as we were eating. And we were surrounded on all sides by unmasked men and women, very possibly bearing various levels of infection. If I had to get it in Singapore, this is where I would have done so, without question. As it happens, my Albertan colleague had flown back to her perch in Calgary the following day only to be duly diagnosed with the virus upon landing. Hence my conviction as to the origins of the exposure for myself. 

But if only this ghastly dinner experience had been all. Post dinner, as we headed into the Casino, I realized  I had to pay an exorbitant 150 Sing Dollars to enter as I was a resident- while my colleagues could enter for free as they were Singapore visitors.  At that point, I was too proud to decline, so yet again I got sucker punched into parting with my money- even before I started to gamble. Once in, we were sitting in slot machines and  putting bills into the cash slots in a metronomic way. I soon lost count of how many times I did this without any purchase- and this is ofcourse by the design of the gambling house. My Filipino colleague seemed to win some small amounts from time to time- which only meant he kept on playing for longer until eventually he was sucked dry- same as the other two of us. When I eventually exited the Casino and bade my colleagues goodbye, I had essentially called to end an absurd and prolonged Friday evening. All I had to show for it was a Covid infection, and  negative cash flow of a few hundred dollars. I had had much much better Fridays, of this I am certain.

But now, here in Manila, only 2 days in, I felt a burning sensation in my throat as I returned from a longish walk around the apartment. Within an hour, I had a mild fever and by the next day I was too tired to get out of bed. I did, however, do so and walked around 20 mins to a clinic, where I did the test. The nurse said the result would be known in 30 minutes. I marched out of the clinic and planted myself in a nearby Tim Hortons endeavouring to fortify myself with a Hazelnut Caramel brewed coffee. When I finished my beverage and walked back to the nurse, I was shown the result on a printed piece of paper. Positive. "Positive?" " Yes I am afraid. Just wear your mask, walk back to your apartment keeping safe distance from other passers by. Once in your apartment, please isolate for 7 days. We will call you after 7 days to learn about your symptoms and if you have none, we will send you a release letter following which you no longer need to be in isolation and can move around if you so wish". Instructions clear enough, I headed back to the hotel- but it was not easy to avoid the pink t-shirt clad supporters of the lady who was standing up against Bong Bong Marcos- the dynast.

Isolated for a week, meant I needed to cook ( I had some basic groceries that could tide me over) at home most meals. Occasionally I would order some food in and have the delivery boy leave the items outside my door. It was no fun of course. But I managed to stay positive when upon some reflection it occurred to me that it was rather fortunate I found about it in Manila- instead of Singapore. If I had tested positive in the pre-departure covid test in Singapore then I would not have managed to fly out to Manila and would have to stay in Singapore for atleast a week in isolation. That would have been a monumental bummer- I had been staying with a friend for the week as I did not really have a place to stay in Singapore ( my apartment had tenants in it whom I obviously could not jettison for one week). I could not possibly go back to his place with the virus all over me. I would then have to check into a hotel at my own expense- and even then most covid-centric accommodation was very limited in availability not to mention considerably rank. At least now I was in Manila, so I had a place to stay by myself- all paid for by the Company. Thank god for such large mercies.

So amidst a haze of pococurante home cooked meals ( see pictures), a sheath of cough syrupy bitterness on a rubber tongue, a gradually assuaging throat ache, a more frequent reading of my Hitchens autobiography, a smattering of whatsapp calls to a lot of worried kith and kin both in Dubai and Eastern India, and all of this engulfed by a low-grade dizziness, I managed to pummel my way through this malaise. In around 6 days I was better, much better but not 100%. I did however feel almost a-ok by day 10- so got my release letter from the health center and stepped out for some fresh air. The first thing I did was that I bought myself a wonderous sounding Fender Acoustic-Electric guitar from a store about 30 steps away from my apartment. On day 11, the virus had been rendered almost unnoticeable as I strummed away at the wooden beauty- were it not for my singing voice that duly managed to cast my affliction in sharp relief.

Today, I am more than 2 weeks from the onset and I feel fine except for the very faint remnant of a cough. I managed to swim my usual number laps without much fuss. Things are finally looking up- atleast on this front. Let us see what the morrow brings.