I got Covid for the first time in April 2022. I had just arrived in the South Island, at the very start of a two-month driving tour.
I don’t blame the South Island (well, maybe a bit) but the timing was less than ideal.
My car was loaded with all the essentials for the trip – surfboards, guitar, disc-golf discs, stupidly big chilli-bin, sensibly big first-aid kit, salt and pepper shakers – and I’d just checked in to a holiday park in Nelson.
Why did I take large, ornate salt and pepper shakers with me on a trip where space was limited? Obviously, I feared a seasoning emergency. Perfectly reasonable.
Apart from deciding I wouldn’t be staying in holiday parks anymore – some idiot let young children in – everything was going well. Then the headache and sore throat started.
Out came the RAT test and Bango, Bingo, I was a resident of Covid town.
I was a bit screwed. I couldn’t remain in the campground and had nowhere else to stay. Plus, I was meeting a mate in Wanaka in fourteen days time, with a cycle trip around Lake Dunstan booked. After ten days isolation that only left me four days to complete a trip I’d allowed two weeks for.
First though, I needed to find somewhere to lay my virus-ridden bones.
I scoured airbnb and found a remote place, high in the Nelson hills. It was made up of two shipping containers. Not exactly luxury accommodation but I thought it would do the job.
Actually, it was perfect. It had great views, a self-contained kitchen, a separate bathroom and chickens.
Actual chickens, in a coop outside, which, depending on how bad the fever got, I saw as either loyal companions or dinner.
Naturally, I named them. There was: Foghorn, Drumstick, Claws McFeather, Chicky Chickson and Cheryl.
No prizes for guessing who would be first in the stew.
No prizes for guessing who would be first in the stew.
No TV, but. Fortunately, I had my laptop so would struggle by.
The lady who ran the airbnb lived in a property further up the hill. She was a teacher so wasn’t worried about me having Covid. Hardy, pragmatic bunch, teachers.
Still, we kept our distance and I always wore a mask when she was nearby.
She was lovely. She brought me chicken soup one night. I rushed out to check the coop as I hadn’t seen Claws for a while. Nope, all accounted for. Phew.
If anyone was going to slaughter them I wanted it to be me.
The soup was great but a little under-seasoned, fortunately…
My biggest problem with Covid wasn’t the gnarly sore throat, headaches, fever, body-shakes or tiredness; it was boredom.
I have a very low boredom threshold and I hit it by day two.
Chicky Chickson suggested I try yoga. Fool. It was like she didn’t know me at all.
Cheryl, a far more sensible chicken, suggested making a disc-golf course on the front lawn. Brilliant. Well done that fowl. It kept me occupied me for hours.
By day four my throat felt like a rat had been using it as a scratching post. Saltwater gargles and hot water with lemon and honey became my constant companions.
It sucked. A ‘mild cold’ it was not.
On the plus side, when I talked I sounded like James Earl Jones. I did impressions – ‘Luke, I’m your farther.’
The chickens didn’t get it. Stupid poultry. Had they never seen Star Wars?
Symptoms came to a head then settled. By day eight it looked like both myself and the chickens were going to make it.
I hit the road again on day ten though, taking the dodgy day zero rule into account (which isn’t fooling anyone by the way), I was out of isolation a day early.
Five days later and despite medical advice to the contrary, I biked forty-two kilometres around Lake Dunston. I’ll hold my hand up now and admit I was on an ebike. Still.
I got Covid for the second time on Thursday. I was at home in Orewa. I felt tired and a bit coldy. I did a RAT test.
Bango, Bingo.
I was unusually sleepy on days one and two then felt well enough to go (socially distanced) surfing on day three.
Today is day four. I have no symptoms and another four days of iso to go – damn you day zero!
I miss the chickens.
Photo by Hana Oliver on Unsplash
If you enjoy this post and would like to read more like it please subscribe and share it with your friends. It’s currently free and I’m trying to build a subscriber base, because, you know, I’m a writer and we have a constant need for validation.
Love the names you gave your chicken friends!
Incredible story! I hate it when unexpected sickness delays my schedule and I wish you a speedy recovery. My approach towards spending time while sick is simple - taking every current kid as an example, I until it gets better shamelessly watch YouTube.