Isolation Day 72

If you are on John’s side of the fence, it’s pretty rough going. If you are on my side of the fence, there are difficulties, but generally it’s not too bad.

So, John didn’t come home today. We had been hopeful, but it transpires that the blood test they took the other day didn’t have the right request with it, so another twenty-four (maybe forty-eight?) hours will elapse before discharge. The second-year medical student looking after John said that they wanted to be sure he was stable before sending him home. Although this is right and good, it hasn’t helped his mood unfortunately, since he is feeling a bit better and wants to be out. So, it’s still just him and the four walls, which he is climbing every day with very little respite. And there seems to be nothing much I can do.

We spent a good while on the phone today, hanging onto each other, not wanting to let the other go until the time ran out on the phone call. I often said the wrong thing, because really, what do I know about the situation he finds himself in? I can’t fully imagine how he feels. But at least we were talking, which was better than just looking at a vanilla wall.

I had hoped that John might feel able to join in a little bit with the weekly quiz, but I think it wasn’t quite the right timing for that this evening.

Anyway, the good news is that he has stayed off the oxygen, and his own, self-generated oxygen levels are within range; his blood counts are back up to normal; he is off the IV antibiotics; and he passed the stair-climbing test with the physio today. All good signs that the medics are getting ready to give him the green light to come home.

In the meantime, on the outside, I have drifted through the day. Half-expecting to leap into action and rush over to collect the ol’ man, I have felt a bit in limbo. There has been the regular prepping of food and drinks, the standard care of Mum, such as ensuring she’s taken her tablets; got her breakfast/lunch/tea; got dressed i.e. changing into clean clothes; taking her a little walk round the garden; and settling her in front of the TV. But I haven’t felt able to do much more than that really – although I did read a chapter of my book out loud to her as we sat in the garden this afternoon, which was a bit of a change.

My drifting about consisted of twitching the bedclothes for the semblance of having made the bed; lethargically putting the ironing away; rinsing some pots – and then leaving them to dry; and wandering into the garden to see if there was a weed or two that I could pull at.

I was motivated though, just after lunch, when my friend and yoga teacher, Jaime, said she’d call in for ten minutes to check out the garden on her way to visit another friend. I gathered up and installed the cushions for the swinging chair and the general garden chairs so that we had somewhere comfy, but socially-distant, to sit.

To my delight, but to the disappointment of Jaime’s other friend, the ten minutes turned into forty-five minutes and could have gone on longer. Oh, my!! It was such a pleasure to sit and chat to Jaime. How blessed I am to know her. In fact, I can’t help but think how blessed we are with all our friends. Each and every one wishes us well and extend their hands of friendship in all sorts of ways. Mwah!

So… I am sure you noticed. It was a very warm day today, wasn’t it? And the swinging chair was all set up? What else could I do later, once Mum had retired indoors to watch her quiz programmes, but to lay down on the full length of the chair and chat to John? It had to be done. And then a bit later on, to read my book.

It is years and years since I have sat, or lain, on the swinging chair to chat or read a book. And I loved it. I can’t describe how it felt, because I was still in a ‘drifty’ sort of mood. But I almost felt like I was sixteen years old again, with the world still before me. And I felt exultant that this was something I was able to do. Lucky, lucky, lucky me. Lucky us. Lucky us to have a such wonderful home and beautiful garden to sit in.

And so, onto this evening, when it was the quiz with my Centre Stage friends. It was light relief and fun. I knew no answers whatsoever, being totally brain-dead, with the answers that I did offer being mostly wrong. But it didn’t matter. Everyone was very good humoured, and they didn’t seem to mind that I was addled. Everyone asked after John and all sent their very good wishes and fervent hopes for his return to the fold. Me too.

Tomorrow is another day. Indeed, it is – and I hope beyond hope that tomorrow is a better day for John and we are back together, home.

In the meantime, take care everyone. It is still not over, and every precaution is still needed. So, for the record…….

2,013 – people infected; 212 – people died in hospitals; 412 people died in all settings (government official figures, 5 p.m. 26 May 2020). NHS figures: 24 deaths in hospitals; 87 having been confirmed on 25 May 2020.