Despite best efforts, it happened. The ‘Rona finally caught up with us. Both at the same time. For the past two and half years we’ve been, for the most, hiding out here in the hills; somewhat of a mystery as to where or when it overcame our longstanding defenses of masks, boosters, distancing and minimal social interaction.
Because I’d attended our small Resilient Communities group 6 days prior where although no-one had displayed signs of illness, feeling not-quite-ok-but-not-quite-sick I’d gone to the precaution of doing a RAT prior to going to town last Friday to stock up on a few things and accompany my mother-in-law to a medical appointment. The RAT result was negative. However, by Sunday morning after a rough night both of us felt distinctly unwell, and two RATs later were COVID positive.
Instead of as planned stocking up and staying at home dodging NSW’s third wave we got caught up in it, so now it’s iso at home for a week. Not so bad in we’d planned and executed the former part therefore we’re in no need of supplies other than our weekly fruit & vegetable box courtesy of North Arm Farms and Dolly’s Run to supplement our garden’s winter offerings of leafy greens and citrus.
I’m faring somewhat better than the G.O. which is both unfortunate and fortunate as it means I can look after him [to the extent he’ll concede] and we cover off domestic necessities accordingly if somewhat sparingly… the fatigue is astonishing. We’re focusing on staying hydrated, eating well, sunshine and rest while of course maintaining Diesel-dog’s exercise routine.
I had planned more scintillating blog post topics… works in progress on resilience and my recent Ancestry discoveries are in hiatus… COVID brain fog is real so this is as good as it gets. And also why in the meantime, we’re quietly spending the time looking after each other, sitting in the sun when it appears, light reading, word games and this blog post in an attempt to avoid long COVID brain fog. When the air turns too cool for our indisposed bodies to remain comfortably outdoors in the afternoon there is the novelty of a couple of hours of undemanding Tour de France or food and travel television even though ordinarily our TV rarely gets switched on during daylight hours.
Not much ordinary about COVID, I’ll say that. We’ve had some interesting symptoms. I’d read about the less common “rash on skin” but was perplexed to wake at 3am with itchy welts wtf only around my elbows. Later over his morning coffee, the G.O recounted hallucinations of being under bombardment in a Ukraine city while trying to rescue children from bombed buildings, which resumed even after he’d roused himself and gone back to sleep again. Intermittently one of us exclaims loudly as another shooting pain assaults our body at random, and we swap anecdotes about night sweats, body aches, tiredness, befuddlement and clumsiness… for me symptoms reminiscent of menopause, giving the G.O. an idea of how the other half lives.
Of the classic COVID symptoms we feel blessed our tastebuds are relatively unscathed. Our appetites are modest but remain sufficiently unjaded to appreciate simple food [frequently augmented with spices and/or fresh herbs, chillies, garlic, ginger and lemons] and a couple of glasses of restorative pre-dinner chilled white wine spritzer [mixed 50/50] enjoyed in front of the woodfire. I have however, lost my taste for red wine and I’m desperately hoping it will reappear forthwith.
Although until now we’ve beat the odds, the numbers game didn’t look good. Apparently we’ve succumbed to the inevitability of the Covid-19 pandemic which replaced the concept of herd immunity. We’re grateful at least we had prepared for the eventuality practically, and also met our coronavirus fate together conveniently in our own home.
There’s no forgetting the last time we were both really sick, some time ago… 2016 during our road trip around Australia, stopping at Mataranka in the ‘Top End’ we’d enjoyed soaking in the famed thermal pools popular for their reputed restorative properties [lesson learned never again] en route to Darwin, where we were laid low by a nasty flu. We spent a week, not so much in isolation but in our caravan at Lee Point Village Resort which upon pre-booking had appeared beachside; in reality poorly chosen, far from services and close to
sewage ponds Leanyer Sanderson Waste Stabilisation Ponds the pungency of which permeated even our congested sinuses.
As they say… shit happens.
“And when shit happens, linger on it for a while—don’t lose your poise and sense of humor—because that very same shit will make you a stronger person amidst different shitty people in various shitty places under any shitty circumstances of your shitty life.” ― Danny Castillones Sillada
From my July camera roll:
“Humor keeps us alive. Humor and food. Don’t forget food. You can go a week without laughing.”
― Joss Whedon