My first thought upon waking this morning, “I can’t possibly choke down one more croissant!” I hear the “food’s here” knock, drag myself out of bed and open the door. Yep, two croissants with jam and Nutella but also, hot coffee! Its warmth across my lips and down my throat feels like a comforting hug reminding me that no matter what comes next, it will be ok.

On December 29, Italy changed its quarantine rules. By our read, close contacts with no symptoms would no longer require quarantine. We excitedly sent this information to Fabio and Luigi, asking how soon we might be able to leave. Excitement about getting to the ship in time for orientation overshadowed disappointment about missing the Homecoming Voyage until we received a series of replies. “Those rules don’t go into effect until January 10,” read one. “We have not seen this here. This does not apply to you,” read another. Deflated but determined, we continued communication with our support team on the ship and kept moving forward.

After days of limited, vague responses, we received word on Friday from Fabio we would all be tested. Excitement reverberated across the Quarantini group texts as we waited, and waited. Even though it had only been three days since his positive result, Will was tested, as were the other two who had previously tested positive. “Anybody else tested yet?” Tyler messaged followed by a series of “no” responses. As the sun went down, hope did too. Just before bed, Fabio messaged Chris that the rest of us would test on Monday. Disappointed, some hope lingered with the promise of Will’s results by the next morning but dwindled with each passing day until we resigned ourselves to the fact they wouldn’t matter anyway. We busied minds and bodies and tried to let go.

Though a dreary day, we awoke early Monday with renewed optimism. Both excited for and dreading the test, we were distracted with calls into some of the SAS orientation meetings, and I began to imagine joining the ship soon. As the hours passed, my heart raced and limbs felt weak. I accumulated 5000 steps through pacing alone, and anxiety kept my focus elusive. By mid-afternoon, following a series of non-answers, Fabio messaged us to expect to test within the hour. The morning’s anticipation had been replaced by agitation which manifested in each of us differently. Tyler demanded answers, Jonah and Lianne respectfully followed orders, the Lindas slathered gratitude and well-wishes on the testers, Liv and I cried. Chris strategically schmoozed, trying to leverage his rapport with Luigi. Though we were “promised” results the next day, I felt defeated and helpless.

As I fought back the barrage of negativity that was flooding my brain, Chris whispered, “it’s dark, let’s go!” We bundled up and snuck out the front door. We are in a gated facility, so we weren’t going far, but we walked about 200 yards to the beach. Holding hands, we looked at the stars, reset our minds and walked back to our room.

Back in wifi, a text alert from Liv and Tyler read, “Who wants to try to order pizza?!” All in, we brainstormed, problem-solved and achieved pizza delivery in quarantine prison! With his ever-steady perspective and humor, Will rallied us further, “Guys! Top Gun in English on Italian TV Channel 6!” Each in our own rooms, we tuned in together sharing Tom Cruise jokes and trivia through Quarantini.

Hopes high and expectations low, we wait. No results today. With all we have, we hold on, reset when necessary and embrace each warm hug that reminds us everything will be ok.