Isolation Day 109

It’s been a blustery old day today, hasn’t it? So much so, that the wind has whistled through every nook and cranny of our hundred-year-old house. This morning, I wondered why it felt particularly cool downstairs, then I remembered. The door to the ‘office-that-we-now-call-the-gym’ is off its hinges, leaning up against the wall, as part of the floor-laying process. Equally, one of the doors through to the garage is off its hinges too, as part of the same process. The wind is enjoying playing round and round, and then scudding into the kitchen, lounge and half-way up the stairs.

This morning it didn’t matter too much. I busied myself mending the cupboard in the ‘office-cum-gym’ and putting more washing into the washing machine, before it was time to have a run out in the car over to Heartlands Hospital, for John’s regular clinic appointment with the haematologist.

Mum made it downstairs before we left, so I was sure she was safe and sound, and she’d managed to have her breakfast. I made her a cup of tea and a sandwich, which I left on the kitchen table, in readiness for her lunch, along with a little tub of jelly and a few sliced strawberries, before we set off. I shut the door between the kitchen and the utility room to stay the wind as best it could, put the TV on for Mum and then we were away.

We had a good run into Birmingham, marvelling at the length of the traffic queue to get into the recycling plant, and the volume of traffic on the way. We also noted, with some irritation, that the tyre pressure warning light pinged on as we were half way to our destination. We chose to ignore it just then, promising ourselves that we’d deal with it on the way back. We didn’t. I needed the loo on the way back, so that’s a job for another day.

The report from Paneesha, John’s haematologist, was mostly all good. Blood counts all behaving themselves, so Paneesha was delighted, and the results of the recent lung function test and CT scan was in. The scan showed that John’s bronchiectasis is about the same, and the lung function test confirmed similar results to the test he did a couple of years ago. Just got to get rid of the stubborn infection lurking there, and manage the bronchiectasis condition going forward. All in all, not too bad. And Paneesha was thrilled to see John looking so much better and upbeat.

Home again to put the kettle on for a cuppa, to find that Mum hadn’t touched her lunch or the cup of tea I’d made her earlier. “Didn’t you fancy your lunch, Mum?” I asked. She looked startled, the cogs whirring in her head. “Oh……. yes, yes. I just haven’t had it yet.” she replied. Made me smile. Good for her that she had the wit to think – she had forgotten about it but didn’t want to upset me by saying so. A few minutes later, she got up to get her lunch and, to my surprise, she ate the jelly and the strawberries…….. there’s really no accounting for it – one day she doesn’t like them but the next she does. Made me smile again, but in a resigned sort of way this time.

After lunch, John was tired, so he made his way upstairs for a rest. Five minutes later, there was a tap at the front door. There was our darling Andrew. He’s moving out of his flat shortly, so he’d brought some more pieces of furniture for us to store. John made his way downstairs again – not so tired now, eh?

As I said, it’s been a blustery old day and neither John nor I fancied sitting outside with Andrew today. Not even to sit in front of the chiminea. So, Andrew sat in the porch, and we sat, marooned, in the middle of the hall like we did once before. It worked really well.

There are really no words to describe the feeling you get when you see your children, are there? It was just so lovely. Like a warm blanket wrapped around us. Comfortable, easily chatting, chuckling, planning, considering the future, debating our situation, reminiscing, righting wrongs – all sorts of stuff, and just blooming marvellous!

As always in these situations, it was over all too soon and he had to go. I thrust what we laughingly call a ‘Red Cross Food Parcel’ at him. “Ooooh… loo rolls and chocolate, Mum? Spot on!” he laughed, as he peered into the contents of the bag.

After Andrew had left, John went upstairs for his rest and I had a little sit down on the sofa and maybe I nodded off for half an hour. I knew it was the wrong thing to do though, because in my half-conscious state I knew I should have been bustling about getting our evening meal ready. And I knew that because just as I was dropping off, Mum said, “Anne? Are you asleep?” I said yes, kept my eyes firmly closed and ignored the fact that I should have been getting on. A short while later, I could hear Mum on her perambulations with a little bit of tutting and sighing going on and standing very close to me. I opened one eye and saw her watching me, disapprovingly. The TV was on. She’d recently been to the loo. So, it could only be that she was hungry. I ignored the eyes boring into me for another ten minutes or so before I gave in and scuttled into the kitchen. Honestly, you’d think I was ten years old!

Having been in and out of the back door earlier in the afternoon we had forgotten to close the door between the kitchen and the utility room and once again the downstairs was feeling a bit chilly. So, John lit a fire. Oooh, it was so cosy. Loved it. It’s July and we lit a fire!! The seasons are a bit topsy-turvy, I think.

The topsy-turvy world still includes a fair few deaths in the community from COVID-19, which is disappointing. The government report today indicates that there were 137 deaths in all settings up until five o’clock yesterday, and 544 people who were infected. The NHS report counts 6 deaths in hospitals up until four o’clock yesterday with 8 deaths having been confirmed for the day before.

That’s it, folks. Another day of doin’ nothin’ much but appreciating what we’ve got – a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, the capacity for warmth when it’s cold and, above all, our love for each other. God bless.