The Treadmill

It’s Monday 10 January 2022 and the treadmill has started up in earnest. We were up early for a 9 o’clock appointment at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham. Neither of us particularly wanted to get up and get going on the hospital run again, but needs must. This time it was for a lung function test to see what the ol’ man can actually get up to without keeling over.

As it turned out, the test wasn’t too difficult and John managed to get through it all without any keeling over or any need for additional oxygen. So they sent him home with a ‘clean bill of health’. I think he felt a bit cheated, but I was delighted – there’s life in the old dog yet! I have to say, I dread the thought that he might need oxygen one day….

The morning had more or less come and gone and then we acted on a phone call from Michael requesting for more nuts from John’s very comprehensive store (keep the jokes clean, please….) so that he could fit the stair gate. Everyone did Lateral Flows to be sure, to be sure…. and then we were on to nip over to the new house.

William was spending a ‘getting to know you’ hour this afternoon at pre-school, which he starts next week, so he and Michael shot off to do that. Thomas had a nap and Danielle ‘went to work’ in their new office space, which left me to faff about and tidy up a bit. Washing up was the order of the day – the new dishwasher arrives tomorrow and I think they will greet that piece of equipment with great relief once it’s installed.

Home again and I decided I really must buck up. “What are you going to do this afternoon?” John asked. “I thought I might colour my hair,” I replied. “But let’s have a cup of tea first – and can we turn the radiator up in our bedroom so it’s warm when I’m up there?” Yep, no problem.

So we sat down with a cuppa and I scrolled through the things we’d recorded on TV for a ‘twenty minute’ viewing while the radiator warmed the room. Ah-ha! ‘The Polar Express’ – we’ve never watched that. Let’s do it while it’s still sort of Christmassy. Erm…..one hundred minutes later…… John fell asleep, but I thoroughly enjoyed the film. Great entertainment and glad I caught up with it after all these years.

Hair colour done, food prepared and eaten for our evening meal, and I felt a bit better. Then this evening I had a chat on Zoom to the girls from college who go to Ragdale. They always cheer me up. The purpose of the call was, of course, what to do…… Should we stay or should we go? Our Ragdale booking is for February but with Omicron currently floating especially well in the air, we were all thinking it would be sensible to postpone our trip. The plan is to go in September now, all being well. Fingers crossed, folks, fingers crossed.

But, oh dear, I am so fed up of this existence whereby we are not sure what we can do and when. Even seeing the family is difficult with infections flying around and the constant awareness of how near to someone have we been who might have the dreaded lurgy? I mean, we seemed to manage quite cheerfully for a while but this is going on too long, isn’t it?

And now I am managing it grumpily…… ah, well, when the sun starts to shine and the days noticeably draw out, I shall be better. And I am thankful for all our blessings, of which there are many, and am reminding myself that staying in, in a nice warm cosy home with food on the table and clothes on our backs, is the height of luxury.

142,224 people tested positive for the virus today; 77 people died in the community and 2,332 people were admitted to hospital.

Take care everyone. The fat lady isn’t due to sing just yet….. God bless.