Michelle Jordan* is a 42-year-old single mother of two daughters, six and nine years old, in Charlotte, North Carolina. A marketing executive who works from home, Jordan started feeling unwell after returning from a conference in Las Vegas earlier this month. On March 14th, she was diagnosed with coronavirus.

Here’s her story.

I woke up on Friday, March 6th, the day after I returned from a conference in Las Vegas, feeling tired and very cold. Meanwhile my two girls, who were home with me, were in shorts and T-shirts in the house (their school had a previously scheduled break for Friday and the following Monday). The temperature reached 56 degrees that day. Something wasn’t right.

I work from home, so I logged on to my laptop and worked until about 4:30. I was cold all day. I took a shower to warm up, put on sweats, and got under a few blankets. I was still cold. After I made dinner, I took cold and flu medicine. I thought perhaps this was the effect of losing a whole night’s sleep by catching a red-eye flight. Plus, I had been dealing with the time difference while I was away.

The next day, the girls and I stayed in for a low key Saturday. I unpacked from my trip and the girls did their homework. Before the day was over, we watched the movie Maleficent.
That night, I had a fever and diarrhoea. Although I was aware of the coronavirus, I didn’t think I had it because the symptoms that everyone discusses are dry cough, shortness of breath, and fever. There was little to no talk, publicly, about diarrhoea at this point. I was not coughing and my breathing was fine. I figured I must have a stomach bug. Later, I would find out it was not.

On Sunday morning, I felt a little bit better. I took my six-year-old to a birthday party. We left the party early because she had been begging me for a churro. We went to Costco to get it. Looking back, that trip to Costco was important because it was my last opportunity to shop, not knowing what was ahead of me. I stocked up on fruit, vegetables, turkey meat, and snacks — $300 worth of groceries. We went home, I took a quick nap before logging onto my laptop to do some work on my deck while the kids played in the backyard.

I was not coughing and my breathing was fine. I figured I must have a stomach bug. Later, I would find out it was not.

When I woke up on Monday morning, I didn’t feel good. I thought it could be my allergies since I sat outside the day before. My lip swelled up that morning too. Weird. I’m a single mom. So, though I felt bad, I kept moving. I have no choice. I attended parent-teacher conferences at my nine-year-old’s school and worked from home. That night, the fever returned, and I still had diarrhoea. I wasn’t really hungry that day. I started to feel a lot of aversion to food.

Tuesday morning, I still didn’t feel like myself, but I took my kids to school. I had a headache that day, and now that I think about it, I was waking up with headaches almost every day after I returned from the conference. But that Tuesday, it was really bad. I felt like I couldn’t move my eyes from side to side. My 70-year-old mom, who lives a mile away, picked up the kids at school and dropped them off at home because I felt out of it.

That night I was really nauseous. My stomach felt like it was tightening up. I couldn’t eat. I had a fever, 103 degrees, and I was wheezing. When I was sick in December, and while battling allergies in the past, I’ve had this wheezing. I wasn’t attributing the wheezing to shortness of breath, and I still didn’t think it was the coronavirus at this point. But I knew I had to seek medical attention.

Wednesday afternoon I went to the doctor. I had eaten a salad before my visit. Upon arriving at the doctor’s office, I ran to the bathroom because the diarrhoea hit. After I checked in, I met with the doctor, who immediately gave me a mask to put on. I told her my symptoms and then was quarantined in a room. I was told I’d be tested for the flu and for Covid-19. The main factor that made the doctor test me for Covid-19 was that I attended a conference with international people. Had I not mentioned that detail, I don’t think I would have been tested. (Also, I was seated next to a man who wore a mask, but kept pulling it down to cough, on my return flight.

It was very unsettling.) As Black women, it’s so important for us to be transparent about what’s going on with our bodies and in our lives with medical professionals. Thankfully, I had a doctor who listened carefully and took the necessary steps. And thankfully, there was a test available for me to take.

The doctor also requested a blood panel be done to check my white blood cell count, as well as a chest X-ray to make sure my lungs weren’t being impacted. The results of the flu test came back immediately. I tested negative. Then came the Covid-19 exam. The instrument to swab my nostrils was a long metal piece — the tip of it reminded me of pipe cleaner. It was the deepest anything has ever been up my nose. It was very uncomfortable. Afterwards, I was sent home and told not to leave my house.

Then I waited three days for the Covid-19 results. In the meantime, I decided I wasn’t sending the kids back to school as a precaution. I disinfected my home and told my girls they cannot sleep in my bed with me. I advised them not to drink from my water bottle and not to use my bathroom. I didn’t want to scare them, but I did want to explain why I was doing all of this. I told them, “Mommy is sick and the doctor is trying to find out what it is.” My nine-year-old was learning about coronavirus in school. She read a recent article in TIME for Kids about it. I assured her that everything was going to be okay, and that all the cleaning and extra hand-washing we were doing was to make sure she stays healthy.

By Saturday, I was feeling better. And that’s when I got the call from a nurse at the doctor’s office. I tested positive for Covid-19. I was so upset and scared. Not for myself, but at the thought that I may have spread it to other people. I thought about all the places I had been. I was really concerned about my mom too, even though I hadn’t seen her much when I came back from Las Vegas.

As Black women, it’s so important for us to be transparent about what’s going on with our bodies and in our lives with medical professionals.

I didn’t get many details during that phone call, other than the county nurse and my doctor would follow up with me. I didn’t know what the course of action was at that moment. So I called the Covid-19 hotline and asked if I should start reaching out to people I have been in contact with. The person taking my call advised me not to because sharing this information can be very overwhelming. Instead, the person told me to let the county health department contact those people on my behalf because they are better equipped at answering questions on the next steps for them to take.

The county nurse called me shortly after, and so did my doctor. They gave me instructions on how I should proceed. The county nurse instructed me that my kids must stay with me and we must stay at home. I received isolation orders for myself and quarantine orders for the kids, via email, that I had to sign and send back. Having official paperwork shows the seriousness of it all. I am also required to take my children’s temperature daily and report it to the county nurse. Later that day, she dropped off two thermometers on my doorstep—to avoid my kids from having to share the one I have.

The county nurse also collected the information about everyone and all the places I visited since I got back from my trip. She reached out to people on my behalf, granting me anonymity. My doctor prescribed me Bromphen Pseudo Dextro HBR syrup, a cough medicine and antihistamine. I didn’t find it very useful since I was not coughing or sneezing.

I talked with my girls about my test results. I told them coronavirus can be a very scary thing, and thankfully I was feeling better. My symptoms were mild compared to what we had been hearing. I told them that I would get through it. I think they felt comfort in my words, and also in seeing that I was still able to move around and able to make them breakfast and dinner. They took the news well.

But talking to my mom was tough. There was no softening the blow in delivering the news. I was very concerned about her health. She was nervous and still is. It’s been 14 days since she last saw me and about 11 days since she last saw my kids, who do not have any symptoms. My mom is a little more relieved as each day passes.

There were a handful of parents from the birthday party I reached out to personally. Some were supportive and concerned for me. Others were not. Those who were not, called other parents and shared my news — using my name. That was very disappointing.
In the midst of it all, my spirit was low. I prayed a lot. I said, God, you brought me through so much worse. You got me through a terrible divorce. So if you brought me here, you’ll get me through it.

And, yes Black people can get this virus, and get sick. I did. I’m young and had no preexisting medical conditions. But I still got it.

I’ve been taking it day by day. My kids are showing no symptoms. We’re passing the time by baking homemade donuts and cookies. I’m reading The Couple Next Door by Shari Lapena. My nine-year-old is reading the Keeper of the Lost Cities collection. My six-year-old has made big strides. She’s in kindergarten, so she’s just learning to read.

I have an amazing and supportive family who live close by. They’ve delivered groceries, meals, and homemade bread to my doorstep. My job, which is located in California, has been incredible. My co-workers sent me flowers when I disclosed my news. My employer has allowed me to take the necessary time to care for myself and my girls.

My isolation officially ended on March 17th. I had to remain fever-free, without any medication, for 72 hours. The county nurse advised me to continue to practice social distancing since the virus is new and we don’t know how long it takes for infected people to shed it. My kids are under quarantine until March 31st (I was told it’s a two-week period for them, starting after the 72 hours I’ve been symptom-free). So we’ll remain at home until then.

Charlotte has not been hit hard by the virus. No one that I had been in contact with has contracted the virus, as far as I know. But it is interesting to see and read the news about a parent at my daughter’s school testing positive. Because they are talking about me.

Today, I feel good. I’m 90% back, but my appetite is not. Over the course of being sick, I lost 12 pounds. I’m staying hydrated and getting my energy back. There is no need for naps now, which I had been taking almost every day for the first week and a half after returning from Las Vegas.
As a Black woman, this was a wake-up call for me to listen to my body and take a look at how I was managing my health before and during the first few days the virus hit me. I am always on the go, and I should have asked for help from my family sooner.

And, yes Black people can get this virus, and get sick. I did. I’m young and had no preexisting medical conditions. But I still got it.

Though my symptoms were mild, the virus is contagious. We all have to do our part to stop it, even if we feel and look our healthiest. Let’s slow down and distance ourselves.

Please use my experience to see the warning signs early. And please remember, take care of yourself.

For guidance and what to do if you feel unwell follow NHS advice.

*Name has been changed to protect the subject’s privacy.