Birding with Pneumonia

Or: How to Cure Pneumonia with One Hot Tody

How do you bird with pneumonia?

You don’t. Not if you’re me.

If you’re me, you spend days rolling around in bed, alternately shivering and sweating bullets. In the brief stretches that pass as sleep, you dream. The dreams are somehow psychedelic yet banal. Scott McKenzie’s 1967 flower-power anthem “San Francisco” plays on a loop in your brain at a demonic 1/2 speed. You cough. You moan. You remember the joy you once felt in life, and you wonder if you’ll ever feel it again. The last thing you want to do is go outside and look for birds.

But what about that all-important eBird checklist streak? This was the year I promised myself to do one checklist per day at minimum. I faltered sometime last September, but not this year. This year it was 365 or bust…and beyond! After that, 1,000 in a row would be a piece of cake. Why ever stop when eBird makes it so easy?

Well, on Saturday evening I started feeling crumby. Our son had just dealt with pneumonia, poor boy, and my symptoms were similar enough that I sent myself into dungeon confinement. When my temperature hit 104, I was confident my self-diagnosis was correct.

It’s difficult to articulate just how arduous everything is when you have pneumonia. Normally, when I’m feeling really awful, I throw up mightily, binge Lord of the Rings, and get on with life the next day. But this was something else. This was debilitating, the closest I’ve ever come to knowing what Frodo must have felt like at this exact moment in his journey.

But a stubborn little spark inside just wasn’t going to let that streak die. At some point on Sunday, a Blue Jay’s shriek, bless their noisy asses, pierced through the fog. I lifted my apparently 30-pound iPhone, recorded the bird, and plummeted back into oblivion, eBird streak intact ✅

The next day was chest X-ray time. As I exited the car and shuffled toward imaging services, I heard a juvenile Song Sparrow in a hedge by the entrance, not so much singing as sounding like the Squeaky-voiced Teen from The Simpsons. No, I did not want fries with that. I didn’t want anything. Except Gatorade. I’m not sure I can explain it, but nothing goes harder than Gatorade when you’ve got pneumonia, which includes dehydration and unquenchable thirst in its suite of delights. Anyhow, I checked in and sat down, using the meantime to record my awkward Song Sparrow sighting. Afterwards, I picked up my antibiotics (and Gatorade!) and went home to crash in peace, eBird streak intact ✅

The third day I awoke feeling physically my worst, but there was a notable mental improvement that came with a diagnosis and knowing the miserable cur of a disease was getting an antibiotic double tap—amoxicillin and Z-pak. I slept most of that day. As for my checklist, again, let’s hear it for some of the loud birds of western PA, American Crow and Carolina Wren, who insisted I keep my streak intact ✅

On day four, I awoke from my first truly restful sleep in days. I lay in bed, drafting this post in my head, determined not to miss my self-imposed Thursday deadline, which just hours earlier seemed a preposterously long shot. I slept more. I joined my family for dinner. Oh how I’d missed them. A Tufted Titmouse landed in the bush outside the dining room window. Streak intact ✅

Today, friends, as I furiously finish up this post, I can say I’m kicking pneumonia where it deserves to be kicked (the groin). At some point this afternoon, I’m going to take a turn around the yard with my binoculars and put together an actual checklist.

And that’s how you bird with pneumonia.

Major Shoutout

My wife Alex always wears a cape in my eyes, but this week she put on a second cape and kept our normally well-oiled-machine of a family going by doing literally everything, including somehow posting new content on her YouTube channel. Follow our fun family adventures and her writing career by subscribing!

Featured Bird - Broad-billed Tody

If any bird could pull me out of this funk, it’s this Gatorade-colored endemic from the Dominican Republic. When we traveled to the DR last June, the Broad-billed Tody was one my most coveted birds. Todys are a family of five Caribbean birds (two endemic to the island of Hispaniola) not too distantly related to kingfishers. I wouldn’t be visiting any habitat of the Narrow-billed variety, so I really needed to get its Broad-billed cousin.

Todys are tiny, about 4.5 inches long, and I feared an insurmountable challenge awaited in finding one, let alone getting a decent shot. I was quickly disabused of that notion when this absolute stunner appeared immediately on my guided tour at El Parque Nacional del Este. This is not a secretive bird. It’s loud and in your face and more than pleased to pose for a photo. The Broad-billed Tody is so spectacular, I think it deserves to be featured twice.

10/10 Recommends

Manny Jimenes, Explora Ecotour

I owe that Broad-billed Tody, and many other lifers, to Manny Jimenes, who showed me the value of having a guide when birding in a new country, and then some. Manny picked me up at our resort and drove me to the park, all the while pointing out birds and dishing on all things Dominican Republic. Manny is a gifted nature guide—a warm, generous travel partner with a thorough knowledge of local flora and fauna, perfectly bilingual in English and Spanish, and deeply concerned with conserving the DR’s precious ecological resources. I hope our paths cross again one day. Until then, may this recommendation send some intrepid birders his way 🇩🇴 🦜

Not Having Pneumonia

I cannot overstate the wondrous joy of living a full day on Earth without pneumonia. If you find yourself pneumonia-free today, take a moment to soak it in. Frolic. Rejoice. Today is a good day. I’m happy for you. I hope you’re happy too 🌈 ☀️ 🐦

That’s all for this week.

Until next time, bird your ass off. Unless you’re sick. If you’re sick, stay home. Get some rest.

nwb