guest column:Sibusisiwe Marunda THOSE who read this column will know that I have written a number of articles about psychosocial support during the COVID-19 era. Ever since the pandemic started, I just wanted to mobilise and engage readers about how we are going to beat the coronavirus if we follow the prevention guidelines and support one another. At that time, I had clarity of thought and I was very sure of what the psychosocial challenges would be and how they could be dealt with. One could say I was in the comfort zone, then on July 23, I woke up with a fever and general body weakness. I immediately presented for a rapid COVID-19 test. I tested negative and everything seemed normal until on July 29, when I started having malaria-like symptoms. My whole body was aching. Initially, I had wanted to purchase a malaria course, but through some intuition, I decided to visit my general practitioner. Upon arrival, the doctor told me he was ordering a COVID-19 test and I laughed it off and told him I had already tested negative. When I confirmed I had taken a rapid test, he insisted I go for a PCR [polymerase chain reaction] test. Shock I was shocked when the test came out positive. I read the result several times and it continued to read positive. I had many questions, but no answers. I wondered where and when I had been careless. I was one of the first people to set up a handwashing station at my house entrance. During the first lockdown, I had stayed fully at home. When I started travelling for COVID-19-related work, I always washed my hands and wore my mask. I was extra careful. I asked God, why me? As I asked myself these questions, I realised I was numb and there was a part of me that was not really accepting that I had actually contracted COVID-19. Even as I got home and started self-isolation, I continued to hope the result was wrong. At this point, the symptoms were mild, so I informed my colleagues at work that I was on sick leave, but would continue working from home. I also asked the three colleagues I had come into contact with to get tested. Immobilised by fear On the second day, I seemed to come out of my numbness and I comprehended the fact that I did have the disease of the decade, COVID-19. The disease was no longer a programming issue, it was in my system and could end my life. As I looked at my morning dose of medication, I suddenly broke down. I wept uncontrollably as I was seized by the fear of death. I thought of my children and wondered if I was going to be there for them as they went through university. My mother died when I was six and I did not want my children to experience what my sisters and I had gone through growing up. What made my fear worse was the fact that I am within the vulnerable age of fifty plus and I have an underlying condition of hypertension. I refused to take most calls from friends who wanted to offer their support. Those calls I took I kept short to avoid breaking down in tears. I had no appetite and could not taste food. I survived on dried vegetables (mufushwa) in peanut