I’ve been around Covid and written about the virus for a year without catching it – until now

I sought to draw some profound lessons about life from the experience of having Covid. Perhaps there was a silver lining. But I have found none, writes Borzou Daragahi

The lesson of the pandemic is: there is no lesson (AFP/Getty)

The fever was scorching. Woozy and out of breath, I struggled to get to the kitchen to refill my water bottle. But the next thing I remembered, I was lying on my back on linoleum with a sharp pain at the back of my skull. It took me a few minutes to realise that I had passed out and whacked my head against the floor.

I had no idea how hard I had fallen or how long I had lost consciousness. But I deduced there was no point in going to the hospital. Even if I had suffered a concussion, the doctor would just tell me to take it easy for a couple weeks, which is what I was doing anyway working through a tough bout with Covid-19.

For more than a year, I had managed to avoid contracting the coronavirus, even as I regularly travelled for work or family obligations and attended occasional social events.