Cold comfort getting flu in Covid-19 times
‘My joints ached. I sneezed. I knew I had a virus. And then things got somewhat complicated.’ David Herkt finds getting a cold is an entirely new experience in these uncertain times.
Getting a seasonal cold/flu in the age of Covid-19 is an entirely new experience. Firstly, the question you inevitably ask yourself is if you really have a cold/flu – or is it something much more problematic?
Should a fortnight’s self-isolation be your policy anyway?
And what about toilet-paper?
My first symptoms began when I felt off-colour and found myself directing unexpected anger at the Minister of Internal Affairs, Tracey Martin, concerning the policy of the National Library to de-accession (read: junk) almost every book not printed in New Zealand.
Nearly a century’s worth of collections – 600,000 books – were going.
The careful library spin mentioned out-of-date computer manuals, but when you tackled the lists there was – just, for example – the whole of human philosophy, from the ancient Greeks to the contemporary French, and this was just part of the first tranche.
Librarians, you thought were guardians of heritage. In New Zealand they seemed to be its burners.
It was all too much for my depression, so I sent off two emails of protest and took two Panadol.
After a night tossing feverishly with uncomfortable dreams, the next morning’s mirror revealed narrow swollen eyes.
My joints ached. I sneezed. I knew I had a virus. And things were somewhat complicated by the fact my partner had travelled through Auckland Airport at the same time as one of the first wellpublicised Covid-19 cases.
I hadn’t succumbed to mass-hysteria until then. We owned no hand-sanitiser.
There was the just average amount of rice in the house. I didn’t possess a medical mask but I could improvise a bandanna – if required. ‘‘Garlic,’’ an acquaintance said.
‘‘My Vietnamese father-in-law swears by three cloves of garlic a day.’’ It seemed like a good idea at the time, though the comments below the online stories I found revealed some very strange attitudes.
I learned I could roll cloves in bread and swallow them like pills.
Washing them down with carbonated drinks was something frequently mentioned.
‘‘Finely-chopped in apple-sauce’’ was another option. ‘‘My children just love eating raw garlic,’’ was unexpected.
I had the first clove at 10am, the second at 6pm, and the third at 10.30pm.
Swallowing a clove of garlic at bedtime was just plain weird.
My second night’s sleep was just as fitful as the first, complicated by the fact that my partner had also come down with whatever it was.
Then Italy joined Wuhan and went into lockdown.
By now I was considering the web of links and services that keep all humanity together.
The thought of police blockades on the Bombays and the Brynderwyns wasn’t working for me. I am also one of those people with an existing medical condition who is dependent on a variety of pharmaceuticals.
Would supermarkets home-deliver the basics in haz-mat suits?
The cloves of garlic were going down easily now.
We both coughed our way through evenings at home. The TV news was grim.
Stock markets plunged. Checking KiwiSaver revealed falls of thousands of dollars. Watching Donald Trump waving his hands around at the Centre for Disease Control didn’t inspire confidence.
Switching over to watch American Pickers at 6.30pm with its jokey searching for trash and treasure on the back-roads of America was just what was required. I wasn’t intelligent enough for a series or a movie.
Then a comment on a news website I visited before bed, sneering about people ‘‘even resorting to garlic’’ hit a nerve.
Next day, there were warnings, from reputable
people, about personal self-isolation if you suspected infection.
Dr Siouxsie Wiles, a microbiologist, woke with a runny nose, and promptly locked the doors.
I’m a freelance journalist. Self-isolation is an occupation. My partner luckily had a tranche of rostered days off.
But I know many people self-employed or positioned so they cannot easily just drop everything for a cold or a flu.
For others, there are instructional videos on how to set-dress your home office for videoconferencing so your workmates don’t get to see the real state of your life.
Turmeric joins garlic as one of the many suggested remedies.
‘‘Which Celebrity Has It?’’ meant that Tom Hanks and his wife, Rita Wilson, were trendsetters. And really, how are you going to deal with schoolkids home for too long a holiday?
Ultimately, Covid-19 cannot be put back in the box.
America has closed its borders. Trump has made one of the worst televised speeches in the history of the American presidency – incidentally revealing he can barely read. Everything changes on an hour-by-hour basis.
I begin feeling better.
I’m less heady.
My eyes are still watering and I blink lots, but I’m not blowing my nose nearly as much. There is still the three garlic cloves a day.
Did they help? I don’t know – they couldn’t have hurt. But it definitely seems we will all have to buckle our belts for a bit because it is going to be a bumpy ride.
We owned no handsanitiser. There was the just average amount of rice in the house. I didn’t possess a medical mask but I could improvise a bandanna.