Six years ago this month, Illinois went into lockdown because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Those were some scary, uncertain times. For our household, they were especially terrifying.

My husband, Tony, has early-onset Alzheimer’s disease and I am his caregiver. Back then, Tony still was able to grasp, albeit not fully, the dire nature of our situation.

That’s why we took drastic measures to isolate. The severity of the illness, coupled with my caregiving duties, meant that I couldn’t afford to get sick.

First, as a caregiver, there’s no way to rest. Things must be done, whether I feel well or not. Second, if Tony were to get sick, he doesn’t have the capacity to understand covering his coughs, wearing a mask or taking even basic precautionary measures to avoid spreading his illness.

Somehow, maybe by sheer force of will, we remained healthy and COVID-free for six years. No colds, no flu, nothing except for a few bad allergy days.

I’m not even one of those militant maskers when going to the store or out and about. I take basic precautions.

So, one would think that if we were to get COVID, it would be because I picked it up when I was doing errands or visiting a doctor’s office.

This month, our luck ran out on the COVID front, and it wasn’t any of those things. COVID walked into our house through the front door.

The week was busy week, with appointments every day except Friday. The appointment Wednesday was in Maywood, and I was nervous about it. (That’s a story for another day.)

Tuesday’s appointment was with the dentist, so I arranged for one of our friends to hang out with Tony, since taking him along isn’t possible anymore.

When our friend arrived, he was carrying a box of tissues and mentioned that his sinuses had been acting up. Since our weather had been all over the map, this seemed plausible.

On Thursday, he texted he had tested positive for COVID. At that point we were feeling OK.

But Friday night, I had some post-nasal drip and a low-grade fever. And so, it began.

Happily, I never got the razor sore throat or the headache, chills and fatigue that are common.

Although I didn’t feel well and was terrified, I wound up with a mild case. I’ve had regular colds that have knocked me out more. Still, I couldn’t rest; there were things that had to be done, and I had to do them wearing a mask and washing my hands repeatedly.

I tested positive for COVID the following Monday. By then, it really wasn’t a surprise. Now the trick was to make sure Tony didn’t get it.

Despite all my efforts, by Wednesday, my dear Tony had a fever and some chills. It didn’t last long, but I knew he now had COVID, too.

On the plus side, Tony’s illness has been mild, too. And since he’s able to nap at will, he’s been able to get the rest that I could not. Still, I’m continuing to take every precaution, continuing to mask and disinfect, because he cannot.

So far, Tony’s other caregiver, Andre, remains healthy. I’m hoping to keep it that way.

On Day 10, I’m still testing positive, though the 2026 COVID guidelines say that I just need to mask for five days after my symptoms are gone.

Tony still has a few more days to go before I’ll even consider taking off the mask around him. Still, I’m grateful he had only a mild case.

One friend told me we’ve joined the 99% of the rest of the world who have had COVID.

Sometimes it’s better late than never. In this instance, I think never would still be better than late. Even if the symptoms were mild.

• Joan Oliver is the former Northwest Herald assistant news editor. She has been associated with the Northwest Herald since 1990. She can be reached at jolivercolumn@gmail.com.