One afternoon, the air conditioning was turned up too high and I caught a chill.
By coincidence, the PS5 I’d bought with the “ten-billion subsidy” promotion arrived the same day. I dragged my weakened body to the desk, contacted Taobao customer service to back up my Hong Kong PSN account, and finished it all in one go. I’d bought a second-hand The Last of Us disc on Taobao. Using the disc drive for the first time, I inserted it upside down by mistake, but it still managed to read and enter the game. I wandered around the post‑apocalyptic world for about ten minutes; the story was excellent, but my discomfort worsened—my body felt weak and my legs numb. Clearly I had really caught a cold. Not daring to take it lightly, I drank some hot water and went to bed.
After a little while, I got a thermometer, stuck it under my armpit: 38°C. That scared me. I had a delivery rider buy medicine for me, but the online form required a lower temperature and wouldn’t accept 38 or above, so I filled in a false value to get the medicine, planning to go to the hospital the next day.
The next day, I biked to the hospital. My temperature was normal after taking the medicine, but wanting to be responsible to the collective, I resolutely took the side route toward the fever clinic and arrived in a moment.
I saw the doctor wearing an N95 mask, with a security guard beside him looking very serious. I asked: since I’d had a fever last night, what procedure did I need to follow?
The doctor laid out a form and recorded all kinds of epidemiological‑survey information—very long. After the survey, I noticed a wooden board standing on the right, with striking red characters: “After the nucleic acid test result comes out, you must remain under observation in isolation for a full three hours.” Alarmed at how long the isolation was, I asked: do I have to wait the full time before I can be seen by a doctor? The doctor, displeased, answered: “The hospital is a place for treating illness.” Then, he changed to a new N95 mask, and following the signs I made my way to the outpatient hall.
It was still early and there weren’t many people. A doctor was standing at the entrance. When he saw me, he took a disinfectant wipe and wiped the chair several times, then told me to sit, concerned there might be virus on it. I asked how long it would take and if I could avoid sitting; the doctor said no. So I sat down, then dictated my answers while he filled out a form. Following instructions, I cooperated with having my temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate measured; it was done quickly.
Once the basic parameters were obtained, the next step was to collect virus‑related samples. Exiting on the left side of the outpatient area, I saw another doctor, wrapped up even more tightly, apparently waiting for me. The doctor said I needed a nasal swab and an antigen test. He also asked if my blood coagulation was normal and inquired about several medications; I don’t remember the details. I answered that everything was normal. Then a long, soft swab was inserted into my nose; it took longer than a throat swab. After that, an ordinary cotton swab was used to wipe both nostrils—this was the antigen test. Then they had me put on rubber gloves, hold the test tube, and bring it back to the previous location.
Returning to the outpatient area, I handed the test tube back to the doctor. He told me to sit and wait for a routine blood test. After a while, another doctor came and drew one tube of blood for testing.
Following the doctor’s instructions, I completed registration, payment, and so on. After a short wait, my number was called. The doctor examined me, then prescribed medication. After I paid, the doctor brought the medicine over; once the consultation was finished, the doctor led me to a so‑called separate isolation room.
There were a bit more than twenty isolation rooms; I entered Room 10. Together with others, I scanned a QR code to join a patient group chat, which also included more than thirty doctors.
Not daring to delay, I quickly went into the room and found it quite clean. The bed had a white disposable sheet. I checked the bathroom; it was also clean, only the trash bag was yellow, while everything else was spotless white.
During isolation I got thirsty. Seeing a message in the group, I went to the room next door, scanned a code myself, and got two bottles of water. Doctors in the group also checked on our conditions, reminding us to drink more water, monitor our temperatures, and report them regularly.
At noon, another message came: we could order meals, uniformly priced at 15 yuan. Just after 1 p.m., the food arrived, and it tasted pretty good.
By late afternoon, the test report was out. I was allowed to leave the isolation room. After signing, I received a notice of completion of isolation, which could serve as a proof of having had a fever.