The Pandemic Fear was Inside our Home [when someone tests positive]

My father just got his first shot of the vaccine after waiting out his recovery from what has now become an integral part of our lives - the Coronavirus. While I was making a reminder of the date on which he would be getting his second shot, memories of the first couple of days when my father tested positive rushed in. This happened on April 17th, 2020 - last year. He had been feeling a bit heavy in the head for a few days, and like many folks, his mask-wearing etiquette was rather questionable. He has always been someone proud of his immunity, the fact that he played cricket from the school to club level despite all the hardships, and he would never take a sick leave from his workplace [CITIBANK - the CITI never sleeps]. He did not have the reserves of energy to collect the pathology report, and with my bits-and-piece knowledge about the healthcare genre, I was trusted to gather it and confirm that he wasn't infected - we were rather sure about it. My father, falling ill? A smart betting man would never invest in this preposterous theory!