Self-isolation: a welcomed and needed relief

“Possible exposure,” read the notification from my Covid Alert app. The exclamation marks were implied, if not present, and it was a helluva piece of information to wake up to.

The app notifies subscribers when they have been in close contact with someone who tests positive for Covid-19. The next steps I was required to take were to self-quarantine for a period of 10 days. “Do not take public transportation, taxis or ride-shares if possible,” read the advice.

Eish, what a way to start your Monday. However, after the initial shock subsided, the abiding emotion I was left with was relief. Now, finally, I had an excuse to retreat back into the safety of my home.

Ever since the relaxation of the lockdown regulations, following those intense, ominous six-odd months of home quarantine, I have felt almost obliged to get out into the world and socialise.

Remember those months? The almost palpable fear? The paranoia? The compulsive hand washing? The utter terror of the sporadic venture out into the world for provisions? The clinging to mobile and Wi-Fi communications as our only connection with friends and family?

The isolation we felt was psychological as much as physical. The quarantine was certainly necessary, as we sought to stem to spread of the pandemic, compromising our freedom of movement, as well as the functioning of the economy in the process.

However, the loneliness was real. I made a promise to myself, “When this is over, I’m going to get out, to grasp everything that life has to offer. I will lunch, I will drink. I will go on dates. I will run the length and breadth of Johannesburg.”

And when the doors were opened, I did. September’s Level 1 announcement had me back out on the town like a sailor on shore leave. Jolly Roger, Foundry, Tiger’s Milk, Xai-Xai… there were few of my regular haunts that did not see me return – masked, but ready to reengage!

I remember smoking a cigarette, just because they’d been banned for so long. I’m not even officially a smoker, but it was the principle. And those toxic chemicals, they tasted like freedom. The hacking lungs of liberation.

But after that… After a few weeks, a couple of months of being back out in the world, back at work, back with the band, visiting family, jogging Johannesburg flat, I began to feel selfish. I had soothed all of those urges suppressed during the lockdown. Meanwhile the pandemic was still about.

I had broken no laws or regulations. I had adhered to all the Level 1 protocols. But something just felt wrong. While the virus remains, I began to feel I needed to take some kind of responsibility. But that is hard to do when everyone you know is living their best life like a released prisoner too.

Still, I needed to curtail, if not stop my carousing. To limit my social interaction. I could support the economy with my scanty Rands, maintain contact with friends and family, but do it responsibly.

Also, after six months of no drinking, the hangovers were killing me!

What I needed was a sign. An excuse, perhaps.

And that excuse arrived on Monday, courtesy of my Covid Alert app. I have since withdrawn back into my chambers, rationalised my engagement with society and notified my people accordingly.

It has indeed been a relief. I needed those months of liberation. I’m sure we all did. But this thing’s not playing any games. Having satisfied my need for human engagement, and some of my more primal urges, it is time to recalibrate.
In a few weeks, I’d like to have a braai with my folks. So, for now, it’s time to chill.

Hagen Engler. Picture: Supplied

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