14 days of hotel quarantine
Today is Day 4, it’s Sunday at 11:49am. Right now my brain hardly works and I just stared out the window for 5 minutes before this sentence was produced. Every minute takes an hour to pass. I knew being in a hotel for 14 days without the ability to open windows or fresh air breaks would be extremely challenging. I was mentally preparing for months, but like anything, nothing prepares you until you’re in it. I’ve also experienced too many people having an opinion about how easy or hard it is, when they haven’t even done it themselves.
The on-site psychologist just called to check in, I started to cry. She said what my psychologist back home said - “you’re having a very normal response to a very abnormal situation”. We talked about mindfulness and if I had been incorporating it at all. I normally do, but I have been over it the past 4 days. Everything I had been “doing” to integrate anxiety and re-pattern my nervous system was thrown out the window in that hotel room. She said I have to incorporate mindfulness, it’s non-negotiable while I’m in here and I also need to plan my day down to every hour - where will I sit this hour - what will I read, watch, write, eat.
I did my dance class, I wasn’t into it today, but I kept going. I’m so tired, all I want is to breathe the air from outside. I look through the window at the big beautiful trees below and I miss them. I want to hug one and never let it go.
We landed in Sydney on a Wednesday morning around 8:30am. It took 1 hour of anxiously waiting to get off the plane after we landed. Apparently the police were behind schedule. Then more waiting in the airport as they slowly corralled us onto the bus, where more waiting took place as they re-counted us about 10 times. The border force had a list which included the names of every person who was allowed to arrive in Sydney that day. They were continually cross checking to be sure they didn’t go over their 450-person-a-day limit. We felt very fortunate to be “allowed” on that list, and don’t take it for granted. But how crazy right. Is this communism?
We arrived at the hotel at 11:32am. The hotel manager came on the bus and described the details of our stay; then he proceeded to say that he needed a glass of wine, and we should order one too. The border force handled our bags, and escorted us to our room where we entered, and haven’t been able to leave. We don’t have a room key. There are chairs with trays outside everyones door. Two crows just flew by the window. Earlier this morning I watched as a crow hopped along the cross walk like a human, it made me laugh.
Day 3 - I feel surprisingly optimistic and positive today. I made a commitment to my self last night that I would wake up and take Ryan Heffington’s dance class; I did it, and the entire day was better. We talked to 7 different humans today, a mixture of FaceTime and phone calls. I felt motivated to wash some clothes in the bathtub; that was a nice activity. I checked Instagram 100 times. We watched a movie, took a nap. We did 5 sets of 5 push ups and 10 burpees. It was a good day.
Day 10 - I woke up excited because it is the final test day. And that means we are really close to getting out. I’ve also found a routine in quarantine and I’m not sure how I feel about leaving this claustrophobic bubble. I wake up, splash my face with cold water to tone my vagus nerve, brush teeth and give my face an oil massage. Fill and start the diffuser. Morning pages, yoga, sometimes uninterrupted breathing for 15 mins. Then breakfast and tea. Check off the “stuff-to-do-during-a-move-to-do list” with a few tabs open to search for cars and places to live. Check email and waste time on instagram. Sometimes I do my dance class before computer work. Most days I don’t. At 3:00pm we get in bed and watch the 3rd season of The Sinner (sorry it’s not on the U.S. Netflix yet). Usually take a nap, then dinner, bath, reading, bed. It’s a routine.
Not sure which day I wrote this - I was going to fit my dance class in today but I got sucked into the internet instead and now it’s 5:10pm. I had a 2 hour FaceTime call in the middle of the day. I normally have very strict boundaries with social media and internet browsing to protect my mental health but it seems discipline doesn’t exist in hotel quarantine. I don’t even want to write this blog anymore and don’t know why I started it.
We were so fortunate to be living in Hawaii during stay-at-home orders. The benefit of living somewhere rural is that you can still enjoy being in nature all day. Now I know how people felt in New York and Italy. Horrible. At least they could open their windows? The lack of fresh air feels like it’s killing brain cells. I imagine they will come back.
Days 5,6,7, and 8 were too tough to even write about. We got a covid test on Day 2 and stayed in pyjamas the whole day. Day 1 will be etched in my body’s memory forever. We arrived, we took showers and then slept for 2 hours. When I woke up I rearranged the room, unpacked, put suitcases away and then our first meal was delivered. I had an anxiety attack after the shock wore off and it set in that I literally could not leave the room.
On one of my calls with the on-site psychologist (not my favourite psych of the bunch), she said “isn’t it neat how the brain protests when you’re in an environment that isn’t natural?” “It’s basically saying no, I will not function properly while I’m in this situation.” I wouldn’t say it’s neat, but her statement helped me feel less anxious about the constant foggy feeling and lack of concentration. Remember, normal response to abnormal situation.
At the start of quarantine the psychologists gave me insight on what each day might bring mentally and emotionally. They noticed a pattern in everyone they spoke to. They also knew I obviously had an anxious nature, and because it’s uncertainty that’s generally hanging at the root of anxiety it would help if I knew what to expect. They said Day 1 and 2 are the hardest as your brain learns to accept the abnormality of what’s happening. Day 3 and 4 are a bit better as you start to establish routine. Day 5 and 6 are hard again and time seems to move at sloth speed. Day 7 is exciting because you’re half way through and only have one more week to go. Day 8 and 9 are more hard days. Day 10 is one of the best days because you receive the mandatory covid test that determines whether or not you’re eligible to leave the institution or not. Day 11 is uncertain and anxious provoking because you’re desperately hoping that the daily check-in from the nurse will not deliver news of a positive result. The psychologists kept saying, “no news is always good news”. Day 11 and 12 really drag on. And Day 13 is incredible because the police and border force stop by to give you a coloured bracelet, health certificate, and instructions on when and how you’re allowed to leave the next morning. Day 13 also proved to be my most anxious day besides Day 1. When I called the psychologist to tell her she said, “nearly everyone I talk to on Day 13 feels this way; in a way you’ve been institutionalised and you’re getting out tomorrow. You’re going back out into the world after a terribly challenging and uncomfortable situation. Be proud of yourself”. Tears again. She spent an hour on the phone with me.
In this type of quarantine, you literally begin to hold onto micro moments of every day. 1 phone call for 1 hour can be a life saver. I didn’t write about the food because it was inedible. INEDIBLE. Don’t be fooled by the photos. I would describe it as tasteless rubber.
We were released from quarantine on Wednesday, November 18th at 7:00am. That day, date, and time will probably be remembered forever. The other day I recieved a marketing email from the Marriott which included a photo of one of their rooms. I suddenly felt nauseas and my heart started to race a bit. I’m not joking. I had flashbacks, and deleted the email. Will I ever be able to stay in a hotel room again? Maybe, but sorry, I think the Marriott anywhere in the world has lost my business forever.
FREEDOM DAY