Medical workers around the world, such as this one in Russia, have been increasingly updated on further precautionary measures. Photo / Sefa Karacan/, via Getty Images
Medical workers around the world, such as this one in Russia, have been increasingly updated on further precautionary measures. Photo / Sefa Karacan/, via Getty Images
I have chosen not to identify myself or my children, nor the hospital or area where we live. This is mostly to protect my daughter's privacy but also the privacy of the doctors, nurses and public health officials who dealt with us. This is all new territory for everyone and it is obvious the procedures for Covid-19 are stringent and complex. I am also conscious of not wanting to spread fear in the community. This is my story.
On Friday evening, my daughter came down with a headache and, overnight, developed a fever.
I lay awake listening to her rapid breathing and chesty noises with increasing trepidation.
A nurse assessed her over the phone and told me she needed to see a doctor.
Although there had been no restrictions in place for Japan when we returned to New Zealand in mid-February, it has since become a "Category 2 area of concern" and we fell within the 14-day period for reporting signs of illness.
Our GP practice is closed on weekends so I bundled my two kids into the car to get to the local emergency clinic for opening.
A sign outside the door said not to enter if recently returned from overseas. I went back to the car where I had left the kids and called reception.
I was put through to a doctor, who told me she needed to call the Chief Medical Officer of Health and to wait five or 10 minutes.
An hour later, the doctor came out, telling us she needed to keep a 1.5m distance. She directed us to the nearest hospital, providing three masks and a vomit container I had requested because my daughter thought she might be sick.
It was the beginning of a four-day quarantine and a nerve-wracking wait for her coronavirus results.
The three of us were instructed not to go into the hospital but to park in the drop-off zone, put on the masks, and wave to the emergency department staff from the car windows.
The only problem is no one could see us, and it took another call to the doctor who had given us the masks for someone to appear.
Into isolation
A lone nurse wearing a mask approached our car and told us to get out. We were led through two sets of doors into an isolation room, while the nurse went into an adjacent room. We could see through the glass and hear her and another nurse discuss protective gear.
Sealed isolation rooms have been prepared in hospitals, with negative pressure air condition systems to prevent air escaping to the rest of the building. File photo / Doug Sherring
It seemed this was their first time seeing a potential coronavirus patient.
One nurse left the adjacent room while the other stayed. She put on a mask and gown, and tried on a plastic face shield before opting for goggles.
She came in without covers on her head or footwear and we heard later that the Ministry of Health does not deem those necessary.
Personally, I find it hard to understand why they would not be part of the kit. What about ensuring the peace of mind of doctors and nurses?
I know the nurse was uneasy with no footwear cover because she said so, while the doctor who came in later mentioned the lack of head protection and had taken it upon herself to put on industrial white gumboots.
In many of the images from overseas, those on the frontlines of Covid-19 wear full-body boiler suits. An American coronavirus patient wrote that the nurses in the facility where he is being treated use duct tape to attach their masks to their headgear.
I'm no microbiologist, but surely if this virus sticks to surfaces, are not hair, ears and shoes vulnerable places where touching could lead to transmission too?
The isolation room was small and stark, and a whirring emanated from the ceiling.
"I think it's the negative pressure system to suck out the germs," I told her, wondering how long we might be stuck in the claustrophobic space after the nurse had done an initial assessment on my daughter.
A laboratory test kit for the new coronavirus. Photo / US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
My son started stalking round, his Spiderman-shirted body darting from one bit of medical equipment to the next, giving each a child's curious inspection.
The doctor came in and asked questions, then left, telling us she needed to consult the infectious diseases specialist about whether we all needed a test for Covid-19.
We waited again, our faces itching and hot under the masks.
The nurse returned and said they had a plan. Only my daughter would be tested because she was the only one showing symptoms, and they were not severe.
At that point, she was registering only a mild fever and her chest sounded clear.
The nurse said three swabs were required, two in the nose and one in the throat.
My little girl thrashed and kicked like a terrified animal at the first one in the left nostril. Through tears, she told me it was painful, but the nurse was patient and kind and after a lot of cajoling, the swabs were eventually completed.
We were told we would get the results the following day and that we must go straight home and not leave until we received notification.
We drove back across town in an eerie bubble, knowing we could not stop for coffee or milk.
I got a phone call almost immediately we got home telling me my daughter was being treated as a suspected case of coronavirus and we were now in an enforced quarantine under the Health Act.
The public health official made it clear we were not to leave the house or allow anyone to enter. He said there were penalties for non-compliance but we were allowed to go into our garden.
I told the kids about a man quarantined in China who ran 50km in his apartment by setting up a course between two chairs. The next morning, my son downloaded an app and tracked himself jogging 2km on our lawn, which is about 12m wide.
An usher with a mask stands next to a cherry tree during a cherry blossom festival in Matsuda, Japan. AP Photo / Jae C Hong
I laughed when he splashed cups of water handed to him by his sister over his head, but then got worried we were attracting attention. I didn't want to have to answer questions from our neighbours about why he was running circles, fearing they might start fretting about catching the virus in an airborne transmission.
We retreated and played yet another round of Monopoly and watched more Netflix.
I wish I could say we developed some kind of healthy routine. But the stress of not knowing the test results hung over me and the anxiety increased dramatically after we found out on Sunday afternoon that my daughter had tested negative for the viral swab which detects cold, flu and other common respiratory illnesses.
Her mild symptoms had not set any major alarm bells ringing at the hospital so I remained hopeful she did not have Covid-19, but now I had to face the reality there was a chance.
I also got the unwelcome news we would now have to wait until at least midday Monday for the test results.
I lay awake all of Sunday night playing the scenarios over in my mind while my daughter lay snuffling beside me.
If she tested positive, I had been told "contract tracing" would begin immediately. It would likely mean closure of her school for two weeks because of the length of time we had been back in New Zealand.
The public health official had warned me there would be a media furore, at which point I sobbed.
As I lay awake, I started to think how angry closure of the school might make some parents and I was filled with an acute and terrible dread.
I imagined how the three of us could become targets of exclusion and rage, and the thought that I may have endangered a community and damaged businesses simply by taking my children on an overseas ski trip felt like a huge burden to bear.
As a former journalist, I knew the media would have no trouble finding us – it would just take a few questions at the school gate before my daughter's name was known.
I started to think about the stigma that could end up haunting my little girl if she became the first child confirmed to have coronavirus in New Zealand.
Everything seemed magnified because of her young age. I developed chest pains with the stress and wondered if I would get sick too.
I am a single mum and I fretted about who would look after my kids. The coronavirus is not exactly something you want to pass to your elderly parents.
I knew my children's father would have to take over all care of the kids – a prospect which also filled me with guilt because the day before we left for Japan in early February he had expressed fears about our trip.
I had planned it for a year and, when I called the insurance company the night before our departure, they told me we would not be covered if we cancelled.
There was no coronavirus warning for Japan from any government or the World Health Organisation at that point, and the cluster of cases on the Diamond Princess was just emerging and far away from where we were travelling.
So, after talking it through with my ex-husband, we agreed I could take the kids – something I now regretted.
Monday came and so did midday, and there were still no results.
A call mid-afternoon made things worse. A different health official told me the coronavirus swab had not yet been sent to the lab because it needed to go on a special overnight courier not available on weekends at our hospital.
A usually bustling food court in downtown Auckland is almost empty as fear of the coronavirus spreads. Photo / Brett Phibbs
I wanted to scream, "WTF? WTAF? You guys told me Sunday, then Monday, and now it's Tuesday?"
Instead, I said: "Do you have any idea what this wait is doing to my nerves?"
I was told the delay was because the Covid-19 test was only triggered once a patient failed the ordinary viral screen.
This was new information and I voiced my displeasure, as calmly as I could, that I had not been told it earlier.
The fact the first person with coronavirus in New Zealand had to be tested three times before the result came back positive is a fact people keep repeating. I am obsessed by that piece of scary information, and I know there will be some who think we cannot even rely on negative results.
But in my daughter's case, by Monday night, I felt 99 per cent sure she did not have the coronavirus.
The fever was gone, she laughed and played hockey in the hall with her brother. I figured, even if the test result was positive, we were lucky to be experiencing a mild case and she would hopefully develop immunity.
I relaxed enough to sleep.
There are three New Zealanders infected with coronavirus and a fourth is expected. File photo / 123rf
Tuesday passed in a blur until, finally, at 3.30pm I could bear it no longer. I texted the public health number I had been given and got a call back from a nurse to say there was still no word.
I sighed, seeing the potential for more days in quarantine. Only a few minutes later, the phone rang again.
