Five Days

Once again I am humbled by the inconveniences of traveling, and there’s nothing like being sick with COVID in a foreign country to put me to the test. 

After our running around Sevilla and Jerez, I went back my flat a couple of nights ago and began having the sniffles. Halfway through the night I knew what it was. My rapid test confirmed that, though I tried outrun COVID, it chased me around the world and found me here in Spain.

It’s easy to feel discouraged, when you’re in a country where the medical practice is very different (i.e., they don’t give Paxlovid here) and you feel lousy and abandoned. But once again, just like last winter when I got sick in AZ, I am counting my blessings. For one thing, I’m in a nice flat with a kitchen so I can drink lots of water and make some tea and keep the fridge stocked. Helen is staying in a place around the corner and she brings me food every day.

So now it’s just a matter of not going crazy during the recommended 5 days of isolation. Books, podcasts, online games, even the world’s tiniest jigsaw puzzle that Helen brought me are all keeping me occupied.

I open the windows and let some air into the flat and while away my boredom. I lost some money on train and hotel reservations and a flamenco show, but hey—first world problems, right? This sort of thing seems to be a theme on my travels. So I guess I better just plan on getting sick and be prepared for it. I’m managing, going out in my hazmat suit to pick up rations like chicken noodle soup and fruit. Then, like a pregnant woman, I take a couple of bites of the food I craved only to lose my appetite and dump the rest. However every day is slightly better than the previous one; feeling today like I got run over by a bicycle rather a train. I’d say that’s a metric of improvement, don’t you think?





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