July 5, 2009 was the day I turned 20. It was also the day I woke up with swine flu. I was staying in the then-Duxton Hotel in Wellington, midway through filming the short-lived (and thus aptly named) TVNZ entertainment show "One Night Only" when I woke up one morning to projectile vomit the green olives I'd consumed as a midnight snack the night before out of my nose. What a way to enter one's twenties. I'd have much preferred a stonking hangover and a bacon and egg McMuffin, but it wasn't to be.
The recent novel coronavirus outbreak reminded me of my brush with "the swine" (as my friends called it). It wasn't pretty. The day my symptoms began, after spending the morning vomiting, I was called into the studio where I was told that I needed to put "mind over matter". After being denied food and drink for around six hours in an attempt to prevent more vomiting, I couldn't stand up or walk by 6pm, and my parents, who had travelled down to celebrate my birthday, rushed me to Hutt Hospital. Happy birthday to me.
I spent the next six weeks on the couch, being nursed back to life by my poor mum. To this day, it was the worst virus I've had, and I have immense sympathy for those currently battling the new coronavirus. I also have enormous respect for those who are tirelessly treating and caring for the sick. The doctors and nurses at Hutt Hospital when I was ill were (and I'm sure still are) wonderful.
Coming down with swine flu (or H1N1, as it's more formally known) gave me a first-hand insight into just how amazing our medical system is, and how important even basic medical innovations have been to our survival as a species. From our understanding of how viruses are transmitted and how to create vaccines to prevent them, to medical devices to determine diagnoses and support healing, to basic old paracetamol and ibuprofen, the medical knowledge we have at our disposal in the 21st century is an incredible testament to human ingenuity and our determination to adapt and survive.