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We have switched off our functioning brains and set them to idle. With astonishing frequency, one or other of us in the household fails to compute what another has said. May have heard it, but not processed it. Sometimes, it causes us all great hilarity and we are amused at ourselves, and sometimes it causes a little irritation because, of course, the person who spoke can’t believe that the importance of their words could have been so overlooked.

I am putting my own malaise of brain-idling down to lack of chocolate. The shops are bare. “Can you order me a large bar of Cadbury’s fruit and nut chocolate, please.” I glibly asked John as he did the Ocado order yesterday, not realising the horror that was about to be revealed. They are out of stock!!

An hour later, Jane, next door, texted to say she was going shopping today and did I want anything? Yes!! Chocolate!! And the gods smiled on me because mid-morning today, what should be posted through the letter box? A large bar of Cadbury’s fruit and nut chocolate……mmmmm…..mmmm…..

I was galvanised by the thought of eating chocolate later on today, and therefore spurred on to prep for the VE day celebrations, climbing the mountain up to the loft to liberate the bunting. We planned to decorate our house with it and offer some to a couple of neighbours. Excitedly, I took first one bundle, then another, then another – only to find that, inexplicably, whilst in the loft and all by itself doing nothing, it had got all tangled up. So we spent a good deal of time fiddling about with bits of string, pieces of card and broken holes before finally putting a great swathe of it from the front door to the gate and back again, and then dropping the spare, untangled bundles in to the neighbours.

It wasn’t exactly red, white and blue – more pink, white and turquoise, with a bit of yellow thrown in for luck – but I liked it and I thought it had a festive feel to it. Coupled with the little table and chairs we’d set out on the drive, laid with the best gold china, a cake stand laden with goodies, and a couple of teapots each filled with tea and coffee, it felt good to be out in the warm sunshine among friendly faces. We spent a blissful couple of hours out there, catching up on the local news, and hailing people as they walked by – each of us, ultra-cautious, backing off until we were probably ten feet away from each other rather than the recommended six.

We retired into the house (which is currently trailing an acrid, smoky smell) to watch Katherine Jenkins on YouTube, singing her tribute to VE Day in an empty Albert Hall. I found it very poignant and it gave me food for thought.

But back to the house. Despite the windows and doors being open all day, the smoky smell has not gone away since the lunchtime burning of the toast. Quite hilarious really. I was getting the lunch ready and John was sous chef. He’d dropped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster for Mum but wasn’t satisfied that they were golden enough, so popped them back in again. In the meantime, the doorbell rang, and I spent a few minutes chatting to one of the women from church when, all of a sudden, I could smell burning, the smoke alarm was going off and all hell was let loose!! Heaven knows what the toaster thought it was doing, but it certainly didn’t pop up when the toast reached a certain temperature. I think the toast was actually on fire as John pulled it from the toaster and plopped it into the sink. Lunch will be delayed by a few minutes, Mum…..

It was a good day. Mum joined in with whatever we were doing, John didn’t feel too bad and had a good old chinwag with the locals and I felt content that we had ‘normalised’ a little bit. Naturally, being a worry-guts, I am now wondering if we did the right thing sitting outside and hoping we didn’t get too near to anybody, after I overheard the next-but-one neighbour telling my next door neighbour, just before we said goodbye for the evening, that her husband was in bed with a temperature and he probably has (formally un-diagnosed) the virus. Whaaaat??? You’re telling me this now? Eeeesh……

Ah, well, too late to do anything about it now.

Take care everyone – one slip-up could make us one of the statistics with yesterday’s official figures, as at 9 a.m. this morning, being 4,649 infectees and 626 dead. Still sobering numbers.

Another early start this morning, up at 6.30 a.m. anticipating the arrival of the nurse at 7.00 who didn’t actually arrive until nearly an hour later. I phoned to see where she was, but she was on her way. After the antibiotic infusion, John went back to bed for a good rest as he’d been up for two and a half hours by the time the nurse left and hadn’t slept awfully well the night before.

I decided to stay up and get on with those little bits and pieces that have been niggling away at me on my ‘to do’ list. Nothing major, but things like sorting the computer out (thanks George); cleaning the fridge out; filling up its water container so that John has cool, fresh water; mopping the utility room floor; painting the windowsills in the porch and so on.

Mundane stuff but made all the more exciting by little interludes of cat/John/Mum fun as I worked. First of all, I was just sitting nicely eating my breakfast when in charged Shadow. He fairly knocked the back door down trying to get in through the cat flap and then hurtled into the middle of the kitchen, clearly fearing for his life. I looked out of the window where I saw, sitting just outside the cat flap, another cat and recent stranger to our garden. Shadow wasn’t going to defend his territory by the looks of it. Unlike Rio last night, who had encountered the very same cat and spent a good half an hour yowling at it. One look at me though, and the visitor turned tail and ran. I had given him a Paddington-style hard stare.

Mid-morning, and it was time to winkle Mum out of bed. She wasn’t quite so reluctant to get out of bed this morning but, by the time she had got dressed, made her bed and come downstairs, it was lunchtime. Oh, the dilemma of ‘Shall I have breakfast, or shall I have lunch?’ She plumped on having her lunch – a spot of cheese on toast. Then, “Would you like a yoghurt for afters, Mum? Or one of your cakes?” Cake. It’s always cake.

After lunch it was a trip to the barbers in the kitchen. Didn’t really notice before he went into hospital that John’s hair needed a tidy-up, but when he came out, we did. So we got the pudding bowl out and off we went. Doesn’t look too bad though, even if I say it myself.

As the sun was shining and the garden beckoned, John took his new haircut and me out into the garden, where we sat on the patio bench, chit-chatting. It was lovely. It is a particular delight to me to just ‘be’ together. No agenda, no pushing to get the next thing done, no disagreement.

But there are always things to be done, aren’t there? And today was no different. While I considered digging out the compost heap to mulch round the buddleia, John did the specialist shopping as he’d managed to get a slot on the Ocado run.

I say ‘I considered’ digging the compost out but it took me a while to actually do it….. Mum was pacing in the house and looking like she needed something more than being sat in front of the TV, so I invited her out for a walk in the garden. While she was getting ready, I studied the pond – the irises, growing so big; the chickweed floating on the top; the fish: lots of black ones, a gold one, a white one and a black-and-gold one; and a newt…….. whaaaat? A NEWT!! Oh, I was very excited to see that! So excited that I had to hotfoot it upstairs to tell John immediately.

After her walk round the garden Mum and I sat on the very same bench that John and I had sat on earlier. She was happy and contented to be sitting there, and she was lucid, too, so we had a lovely time just being companionable. I mentioned to her that I was planning an assault on the compost heap and she suggested I do it while she sat and watched, so I did. Second excitement of the afternoon: you should see my compost! It’s beautiful, top quality and would win prizes, I’m sure!!

And so, to the evening – applause at 8 o’clock for the NHS and key workers, and a bit of a chat with the neighbours about whether anyone was bothering to have a picnic in their garden tomorrow afternoon for VE Day. Consensus was ‘no’ initially, but two or three thought they might if others were, so we’ll have a little go at something about four o’clock, with bunting and fizz. Any excuse for a party – even if it is socially distanced.

After the ‘clap for the NHS’ moment, I zoomed upstairs to catch up with the college crew on Zoom (see what I did there? Subtle wasn’t it?) and spent a very pleasant hour or so looking at lovely faces and talking to lovely people. Same time, same place next week, girls?

Let’s hope so. With the news that one of our former GPs, Dr Vallet, has died from COVID-19, you just never know. With 539 deaths as of 9 a.m. this morning and 5,614 people infected, there is still a lot of virus floating around. Do take care everyone.

No drama today. Just a little bit of nostalgia and melancholia.

It was an early start, welcoming in one of the community nurses first thing, who dealt quickly and efficiently with administering John’s antibiotics. As it was such an early start, it felt a little bit odd throughout the day and neither of us felt quite settled. John was at sixes and sevens because he was home and should be getting on. I was at sixes and sevens because he was home and I did get on with a few jobs, but really wanted to just spend time chatting or sitting with the ol’ man.

For the most part though, that’s what we did. It was such a glorious day, weather-wise, that we spent a good portion of it the garden. We had a lovely lunch, and a cheeky glass of white wine, at the table and chairs in the middle of the lawn, then had a little wander round the garden – me plucking at weeds, here and there; John doing laps of the garden to ‘get fit’; and Mum, telling us that it was too cold or too hot or too bright or too windy, depending on how the mood took her at any one moment in time.

But we did have the most enjoyable half hour or so this afternoon, all together – John sitting on my parents’ bench, and Mum and me sitting on the swinging chair in the blazing hot sun, our faces and eyes shielded by our summer hats – listening to the quiet of our surroundings and the birds singing and the chimes tinkling as the breeze caught them.

And for John and me particularly, we took the time to look back at the house and thrill at the achievement of the building itself, much of which John has created from scratch over the years; and then we reminisced over the boys growing up in it, the parties that had been held both in the house and the garden, and how the grandchildren are now making the most of it – and just the vibrancy of it all. It was lovely – albeit tinged with a little sadness as lock down continues.

So I can’t wait until the lock down is over and we can have the family round once again to run around and play up and down the stairs and in and out of the house. Harriet shared a picture of Lily and Freddie messing about in their (very large) paddling pool (I wasn’t jealous at all), and I thought I’ll do the same with our own little paddling pool when the time is right. I do love a paddle, so why not? Might draw the line at playing in the sandpit though!!

Then this evening rolled up and it was Quiz Night again with our dear Centre Stage friends. I had suggested to John that maybe we’d duck out this week, but he was keen to socialise, so we took part. Between us, I think we got about half a dozen questions right, as neither of us could really concentrate, so thank goodness for the rest of the team!! It was a fun evening, as always though, and there was at least one side-splitting occasion when at least three of us couldn’t stop giggling.

Other than that, the day was interspersed with the alarm going off on John’s phone at regular intervals to remind him to take his tablets, or have his nebuliser, or take a nap, or something, as well as the comings and goings of the nurses to check up on him and pump antibiotics into him. It was a long day for him and, quite rightly, at the end of it, he felt pretty exhausted.

And once again, I haven’t watched the news. Too busy watching one or other of the members of the household to do that, so I haven’t kept up. Suffice to say, too many people are still getting infected with COVID-19 (6,111) and too many dying (649 in all settings) according to today’s official figures.

However this comes out in the wash, however they play with the figures, however much they compare the UK to other countries, each infection and each death has an impact, not only on those friends and family members in direct contact, but on the daily lives of us all. It’s too much and I pray for the day when we can stop looking over our shoulders and stop washing everything in sight!!

God bless – stay safe and sane everyone.

Like a steam train, our day gathered pace and thundered to midnight. It started very quietly, but then gained some traction with a sprinkling of hope; which turned into to waiting; then became reality; and JOHN IS HOME!!

Albeit the delight in being home was tempered by all sorts of not-so-nice stuff, with a diversion on the way back as the A452 was closed, and then a brace of nurses which was waiting for John as we pulled up outside the house, to administer the nightly dose of intravenous antibiotics – and the news that they’d be back at 7 a.m., 2.p.m., and 9 p.m. daily for the next ten days. And not only that, he’d had a frustrating day. So, euphoria was not the first emotion he felt as he stepped over the threshold.

Being cooped up in a room on his own for six days, had John climbing the walls. And then there felt nothing worse than one of the medical team telling him they were preparing everything to send him home today, only to find that the preparations were at a snail’s pace and took nearly nine hours after the initial alert, before the release looked like a reality.

Anyway, at 8.30 this evening, I got the call, and I shot off as soon as I could to pick him up. We arrived back home just after ten and the nurses were already waiting, so we bundled into the house and into a very messy dining room, where the nurses fought their way through the bits and pieces on the table to set out their medicine stall and do their stuff. By eleven o’clock they had left, and it was time to hit the bottle and relieve all those pent-up feelings.

Whilst John had a frustrating day waiting to be let out, my day was mild and gentle until tea-time. It was like this….

As John always says, jobs aren’t always as simple as you think they are in the handyman trade and, if a customer said, “I just want….” then you knew you were in trouble. Well, I just wanted to paint the windowsill in the porch.

I had bought some chalk paint to slap onto the windowsill, minimum effort. “Give it a light rub down.” John advised. So, I got my sandpaper and rubbed. Ha! The varnished peeled off like sunburned skin, leaving a bit here but nothing there, like a patchwork. Hmmmm….. ‘OK’, I said to myself, ‘no worries, I’ll use John’s electric sander to sand it down to the wood. I think you can slap chalk paint onto bare wood.’ John’s sander is now my new favourite toy. Did the job a treat.

Then I read the instructions on the paint tin. Oh. It’s not chalk paint at all. It’s satin paint. Needs an undercoat. Grrrr…… I could hear John’s words in my head…’not as simple as you think!!’ Anyway, the job is started but not finished.

It’s not finished because I had a little break at tea-time. Well, intended to have a little break, but it turned out to be a big break because Mum had a ‘turn’. We had just sat down to eat our tea, and Mum had enjoyed a few mouthfuls when she suddenly said she’d got a pain in her chest, and she started rubbing just along the breastbone. “I think I’ve got a bit of indigestion,” she said. She started to sweat. Then the pain transferred to her lower chest and she felt breathless. Then her left arm felt funny and hot. I took her blood pressure and it was a bit high. “Are you sure it’s indigestion, Mum? Do you want to walk round the kitchen to see if it’ll ease?” She took two steps and put her hand to her chest again and said no she couldn’t manage that. I phoned NHS 111: “Feed her with four of the aspirin tablets you’ve got, crushed up, and we’ll send the paramedics.” Oh, OK.

As it turned out, of course, she was absolutely fine. Under normal circumstances they’d have whisked her off to hospital for blood tests, but with COVID 19 around……..

As the paramedics arrived about 7.15, John was phoning to tell me he didn’t know what was going on with his release as the drugs hadn’t arrived. He’d been told that they were on the porter’s trolley and the porter was working his way, numerically, round the wards; and John was on Ward 26……. my calculations were 10 minutes per ward, which meant that it’d probably be four hours later before they finally got there! And would John come home today after all?

Thank the Lord, he is home. Just got to look after him properly now……

I couldn’t wait to get him back. So much so, that I left Mum on her own while I collected him. Gave her the landline and told her to dial 999 if she felt unwell. Hoped for the best. And all was well when we got back. As if it wouldn’t be, of course!!

And, goodness me, I didn’t watch any news today and have hardly thought about the poor souls who have been infected with the Coronavirus, or died from it, as we have been wrapped up in our own drama. However, for consistencies’ sake, the figures, without the context of having listened to the briefing today, seem to read as follows: 4,406 people are infected, and 693 people have died. Someone put me right, if I’ve misread these, please?

And….breathe……peace be with you all.

A quiet day today. Mum stayed in bed all morning again and I did jobs. You can’t imagine that there’s still plenty to find to do, can you? But, honestly, there is such a lot to do in our house that I think I could be here until doomsday and still not have it all finished!!

I did get the ironing and vacuuming done though – jobs I’d been intending to do since before the weekend – and I also finished cleaning the chip pan, ready to be filled with the golden liquid Malcolm brought from Sainsburys/Tesco/Wilco today. Yippee!! I do love a portion of fat, home-made, triple-cooked chips!! Bring ’em on!!

Other than that, not a lot has gone on today really. Chats to friends and family, and two or three chats to John, who wasn’t quite with it this morning but got better as the day went on. The doctor is talking of sending him home where it is a safer environment, but we are not sure when – might be tomorrow, might be the next day. They’ve got to sort out a nebuliser to come home with him and, apparently, a three-times-a-day visit from the District Nurse to continue with the intravenous antibiotics. We’ll see.

John is, of course, bored of his own company and looking forward to coming home. To give him something to do, I suggested he might like to do some online shopping, but he wasn’t quite up for that. I don’t know how you are getting on with online shopping, but we keep ordering things, the delivery date is sometime in the future, and then, as time goes on, we’ve forgotten what we’ve ordered. So, when the front doorbell rings and a parcel is waiting for us in the porch, it’s like Christmas – excitement! What’s this? Let’s open it and see!

We play that little guessing game though beforehand, to prolong the excitement. Today’s’ offering was a small parcel, which John thought might be more screws for the Lotus. But then, he had second thoughts and suggested it might be medical supplies. Well, he was thrilled at the thought of screws. I was thrilled at the thought of medical supplies. See how compatible we are?

Anyway, John was right, it was an oximeter. I had been fretting before he went into hospital about his breathing, and then heard some good advice about measuring oxygen levels in the blood for those with COVID-19, to pre-empt a serious situation going unrecognised. So, of course, I had to have one! I am sure it’ll come in handy – along with all the other bits of equipment we’ve got here, with more arriving imminently, apparently…..

On a different note, routine has not fully established itself in our household. We still seem to lurch from one thing to the next without any real structure to the day. This includes Mum, who can’t make up her mind as to when to get up, when to eat and when to have a cup of tea. However, you could have knocked me down with a feather today when I suggested to her that we have a little walk in the garden, to which she replied, “Yes, that will be lovely. I’ve been thinking that I haven’t had my walk yet today.” Crikey! It was only just over a week ago that she was whining about the idea of such a thing! Mind you, tomorrow might be a different story…and it does depend on the weather…..

With the weather looking up for the next few days, it may be that I’ll entice Mum out in the garden again, and hopefully, it’ll be good for John’s recovery to get some Vitamin D too, once he’s home.

Talking of things looking up, it seems that official figures relating to the virus are on a downward trajectory, with 3,985 people having tested positive as at 9 o’clock this morning, and 525 people having died. The downward trend is better news.

But what is news to me is that several people in the village have died of it. Being isolated, I hadn’t realised it was in the village itself, until I chatted to one of the ladies from church on Sunday, who has had it. Crumbs. I thought it hadn’t reached our backdoor yet. Just shows.

Peace be with you all.

When you’re busy doing nothing, where do you start to describe your day? It feels like I’ve done nothing but swan about, tinker at things and walk through treacle today. In fact, I am so tired, that I didn’t even hear John’s message ping in this morning at 6.40 a.m. as I was dead to the world! Didn’t surface until the Sunday-alarm (as opposed to the weekday-alarm) went off at 8 o’clock. Oh, dear.

It was treacle, really, from the minute I got up. Everything at half-pace. I said to John, as we chatted on WhatsApp, “I can’t think why I am so tired?” He just gave me a look – you know the sort of thing he does….. hmmm…maybe I do know why I am tired!

Anyway, the day started well, yawning my way through a chat to John (who was not feeling too bad but couldn’t remember whether he’d had his antibiotics this morning), then off to ‘church’ for which I had done the reading this week – much to my fear and trepidation. How crazy is that? I ought to know my capabilities by now but lock down seems to be sapping my confidence. You? Same? Or are you all still up and buzzing?

Good church service though, with Alison doing the Gospel and the sermon, which I really enjoyed. And I sang my heart out to all the hymns. Thank God Mum’s deaf and John’s in hospital!! No potential for embarrassment there!!

A few e-chats with friends and family, before another attempt to tackle the kitchen which, I think, has a mind of its own. How does it get into such a mess? Overnight, it seems to generate all sorts of stuff on the work surfaces with pots to wash, that I was sure I’d done the day before. It was the pesky chip-pan today though. The oil had become a bit of a murky mass, so I decided it was time to give it a jolly good clean-up. It seemed to take hours. And it’s not finished yet. Bits of it are still in the dishwasher and I’ve got to put it all back together tomorrow. Let’s hope I can remember which screw goes in where.

Must’ve exhausted myself with all that scrubbing of the chip pan though, because no sooner had I sat in an easy chair after lunch than I fell asleep. Mum woke me up with “Are you asleep, Anne?” Well, yes, I had dropped off but now you’ve asked, I’m awake. Pottered about a bit then, tackling the chip pan once more, before having another little sit down with a cup of tea….and fell asleep again. Woke up this time to John calling on the mobile. Yikes! I’m awake! I’m awake! Honest!

At that point, I thought perhaps a bit of fresh air would do me good, so I suggested to Mum we have a little walk round the garden. I had my eye on the outside temperature, the clouds, and whether the trees were waving about, to gauge the reaction we might get once she got outside. Temperature: 19.5 degrees. Clouds: overcast but no rain. Wind velocity: nothing much. Good. She agreed, a walk would be nice. OK – so, do you want to put your socks, shoes and coat on, Mum? Yes. I’ll just go to the loo first…..

I watched the mercury falling as I waited for Mum to get ready. 18.5 degrees. It’ll be fine. Three-quarters of an hour later, she was ready. It’s now 17.5 degrees. Silent prayer that it won’t feel too cold….. In truth, it wasn’t. We had a lovely stroll round the garden with the exact same observations and questions as we had yesterday. “Oh, what a lovely peonie!!” she exclaimed. “Yes, it’s pretty, isn’t?” I responded. “Is there just the one bud?” she asked. “No, there are a few more – look, over here.. and here.”

But it doesn’t matter that we have the same conversation, because we also have a laugh too. The laughter is usually in response to her statement, ‘I can’t remember’, because her eyes twinkle up and she looks a bit apologetic. She always starts the giggle and it makes me join in as well. She’d love to remember, but she can’t. She’d love to have a rational conversation, but it’s gone. Ah well.

After our evening meal we watched a bit of TV – more of The Chase but this time it was The Family Chase – and then I yawned my way through another chat with John. He was insistent that I go to bed earlier. Yes, boss. So, I shall try. I think he was also feeling rather tired as he looked weary this evening and couldn’t quite remember what drugs he’d had today. The days are all blurring into one for him and it’s very hard being in a room on your own with no company other than a mobile phone. It’s also very hard being this side of the mobile phone unable to run errands, hold his hand, cuddle him or interpret for him when the medics talk gobbledegook.

But we soldier on and pray for those whose lives have been disrupted forever by the virus. The figures of people who have died as at 9 o’clock this morning is 711, with 4,399 people infected. It’s still awful, but they tell me on the telly that it’s getting better. Hope so. God bless.

I quite like an early wake-up call. Especially if it’s John phoning early from the hospital for a chat, as he did yesterday. But I wasn’t prepared for this morning’s wake-up call, which was a bit of a shock. I found Mum looming over me at 7 o’clock, telling me she didn’t feel very well. This wasn’t exactly the sort of wake-up call I’d really envisaged to be honest. She had a bad tummy ache. Well, there wasn’t a lot I could do and, as there were no other symptoms, I sent her back to bed and snoozed on for a while myself, before chatting to John.

The tummy ache didn’t develop into anything more serious so, for Mum, the day passed along the lines of: snooze in the morning; drink tea; get up; drink tea; snooze after lunch; drink tea…..and so on – you get the picture. I was able to persuade her to have a little toddle in the garden though, in the warmth of the afternoon sun, which she enjoyed.

John also decided he might have a little toddle in his room today, calculating how many times round the bed he’d need to go to make up a half-marathon. However, one trip round the bed was enough to convince him that it wasn’t such a good idea after all, lung capacity being a bit thin on the ground just now.

So he opted for the ‘look after me’ stance instead and allowed the nursing staff to do whatever needed to be done to improve the situation. Including, it transpires, the delivery of jugs of water at regular intervals. “You must drink more water,” they admonished. So, doing as he’s told, he is doing just that. The only trouble is, he said, is that he’ll soon be dissolving himself with the amount he’s imbibing. A ‘John solution’ – now that has a nice ring to it!!

Talking of solutions…..with Mum being a bit ‘meh’ this morning, I offered her a couple of paracetamol. To my surprise, she said ‘yes’ so I popped into our bedroom to fetch some from the bedside cabinet. On the way, I noticed for the umpteenth time and to my irritation, that a couple shoe boxes under the chest of drawers were sticking out, so I resolved to rectify the situation. I pulled them out to rearrange them, only to reveal…….. a shiny blue bag with a label on it: ‘To my darling husband, John. Enjoy! All my love Anne.’ Oh. Ahhhhh…… erm…….very red face.

I took a photo of the bag and sent it to John. ‘What’s this?’ I asked. ‘Headlining?’ he responded. Might be…might be….

And so, after having bought a new headlining for the Lotus because we couldn’t find the one I had for him for Christmas, there we are. And there it was – in a safe place, tucked away, gift-wrapped ready for Santa to distribute. Only Santa didn’t – and now John’s got two of the wretched things. Got to look on the bright side though. As John said, ‘I’ll be able to practise on one to get it right on the other.’ Ohhh….. that’s alright then!

In other news, I wore my smug face today. After the debacle of the car not starting the other day, Malcolm asked if we’d like to borrow his trickle charger to keep the battery topped up whilst the car stands on the drive. Yes, please. He brought it round this afternoon and gave me precise instructions on how to fit it. Normally, I can’t even find where the lever is to lift the bonnet, let alone the release button on the actual bonnet itself, so I thought it might be a challenge. But no. I followed the instructions to the letter, and hey presto!! the trickle charger is fitted, and the car will be raring to go once we get the call to collect the ol’ man from hospital.

And the day finished on a very nice note. Fran had arranged a quiz evening with John’s Uni friends (isn’t just everybody doing quizzes now?) but, because John is in hospital, it was suggested that perhaps just a catch-up would be best. Well, it was so lovely to see everyone – Pete & Fran, George & Val, Nev & Jane and Kelv & Ren. We all had a good old chinwag and even John joined in from his hospital bed all evening. Fab.

Despite the fact the John is not here, leaving me feeling a little bit adrift, today has been a very comfortable day – it being interspersed with conversations with the kids and the grand kids, friends on the doorstep and comforting words from others on email or social media.

In among the official figures we recognise individual people now – John being one of the number tested for Coronavirus. Fortunately, his test came back negative. But as at 9 o’clock this morning, 4,806 people did test positive and 621 people died. It’s horrible reading and I’m praying it will decline and desist soon.

Be vigilant and stay safe everyone.

I am not as strong as I was. I found that out today, as I fought with the king-size mattress to ‘do the turn’ on it. It fought back – but, even though it was bigger than me, I certainly wasn’t going to let it win. So I left it to sulk for a bit while I got on with other things; I left it to think of the error of its ways and to consider co-operating with me when I went back later to have another go at ‘the turn’. The ruse worked and, as neatly as that, it slid back into place without so much as a whimper. Result.

I was glad about that because I wanted to make and tidy the bed up, in order to put a recently-delivered piece of ‘the project’ by its side, so that when John comes home, he knows exactly where it is. Now, why should this be so important? Funny you should ask that. Well, I had the very self-same piece to offer him as a Christmas gift. The piece arrived in the house and it may still be somewhere in the house. But we haven’t got a clue as to where it actually is.

We only realised that we’d lost it when John came to the point of wanting to fit it. “Where’s that headlining you gave me for Christmas?” he asked. “Dunno,” I said casually, expecting it to be in the office/car/garage or on his desk. We have hunted high and low for the darned thing but it’s never turned up…..yet. Although, now that we’ve bought a new one, we’re bound to find it in a ‘safe’ place somewhere no doubt!

Anyway, the headlining is by his side of the bed so that he can’t miss it when he gets back. No news on when he’ll be home yet though. He has been treated all day with intravenous antibiotics and nebulised antibiotics, and we hear the nebuliser will be his friend when he gets home for the foreseeable. He tells us he’s not feeling too bad, but then, of course, he’s not charging about, he’s just lying in bed, or sitting in a chair, or walking about three yards to the loo and back. Not much exertion required just now.

At tea-time, as we sat down to our meal, Mum said, “It’s strange without John, isn’t it?” I had to agree with her. The strangest thing is that I am not able to visit the ol’ man. Normally I’m pretty much glued to his side when he’s in hospital; and I usually return home to an empty house and then do pretty much as I please. Not so now, though. Strange times.

All day people have been phoning or emailing or texting, sending their love and best wishes for John’s speedy recovery, and that’s been so lovely. I have delighted in the conversations I’ve had with everyone in whichever medium and been pleased to pass on the good wishes. Most of the communication has been on my phone. And if Mum has said it once, she has said it a dozen times, “What are you doing on your phone all the time?” This new way of connecting with people is so alien to her, and her memory isn’t so good, that she just must make the comment each time. Bless her.

I did do as I pleased at lunchtime though and sat quietly for three quarters of an hour while I followed another funeral service – today it was for Melva Brown. It was a very peaceful forty-five minutes and very poignant as I followed the order of service and played the music and songs that had been chosen to remember Melva by. Particularly apt for the occasion, and also for everyone’s current situation, was the outgoing track of ‘Smile’ orchestrated by Andre Rieu and sung by Jermaine Jackson. ‘Smile…. though your heart is aching; Smile…….. even though it’s breaking……‘ etc.

“Let’s be positive and take forward the good things” my friends reminded me today, which is a great philosophy to live by – and I do think it starts with a smile; of which I’ve had lots today, courtesy of John in our video chats, the family in their crazy WhatsApp chats and friends who’ve lightened the load, with chats or errands. Thank you everyone.

And the positive news in the government briefing today, as far as the Coronavirus is concerned, is that we are ‘past the peak’. I do hope so. A further 6,201 people, according to the official figures and as at 9 o’clock this morning, are recorded as infected, and another 739 people have died.

Smile, everyone? Well, let’s do our best. Because ‘maybe tomorrow you’ll see the sun come shining thro’ for you……….God bless.

The A45 was busy, both on the way there and on the way back. In fact, coming back via the shortcut, there was a six-car queue to re-join the main carriageway. Lock down? Crikey, it seemed almost like ordinary mid-day travelling into Birmingham today. The traffic is definitely building up again – we can hear the thrum of it each day past our house now – shwoom…..shwoom….shwoom….

An essential journey? Oh, yes. Mr Wheezy Chest’s chest had got even wheezier overnight, and I decided to seek the consultant’s opinion today. Didn’t actually get through to the consultant though. Spoke to knowledgeable Sisters who know about such things and each one said, “Take him to A & E.” So, we did. His bag packed and his drugs on hand, we had a little toddle out to Heartlands.

“They might not keep me in.” he said, ever hopeful. “We’ll see.” I said.

Temperature, blood pressure, blood samples, ECG, an X-ray all taken, and a nebuliser administered; and the upshot was a move to a room without a view, on Ward 26. Intravenous antibiotics will start tomorrow.

“What did the X-ray show?” John asked the doctor, who replied, “It definitely shows an infection in your lungs. And listening to your chest, it’s all over your lungs. The sample that was tested shows it is Pseudomonas.”

We don’t know how long John will be in hospital, but suffice to say, neither of us had imagined this scenario during lock down. We were being really careful, shielding and trying to look after ourselves. But the reality is, that this little bug(ger) has been present in John’s lungs for a while, probably before we went into isolation, and it has colonised and colonised, resistant to all the antibiotics previously prescribed.

While I was making phone calls this morning, John was processing what the outcome might be. So was I. And when the inevitable, “Take him to A&E” came, neither of us much wanted to take the advice. I didn’t really want to take him, and he didn’t really want to go. But Mr & Mrs Sensible Heads arrived and off we went. I was actually well in control while I did the packing and driving, but felt all the weight of the decision when we said goodbye at the hospital entrance. Relatives are not allowed in…….

Once home, I sat in the car for a while and thought I’d phone a couple of my besties to offload a bit. Neither were available just then, but both came up trumps a little while later. As did the college crew later on this evening – cheered me up no end.

Without friends and family, who are just there when we need them, I don’t know how we’d cope. The kids: “You are making the right decision, to go to A&E.” and “Want to use my car?” when ours wouldn’t start just before we set off, and “I’ll come over???”, then dear Peter, who came and jump-started the car, so we could get going.

Mum was as good as gold while this was all happening, and she did what she always does now – watched TV and drank tea. Very British.

Meanwhile, I had other things on my mind too, today. A farewell to Trevor Boult, whose funeral took place this afternoon. Just a few able to attend, of course, due to restrictions, so I lit a candle to meditate by, followed the order of service that his family had compiled, and marvelled at his artwork which I had alongside. God rest his soul.

And, whatever your beliefs are, let’s hold everyone who is sick, or who has died in recent weeks, in our hearts; including the people who tested positive for the Coronavirus (6,032) or died of it yesterday (674).

Peace be with you – and, if it’s your inclination, please hold us in your prayers.

After my little rant the other day, which seemed to reveal that I was not quite so perky as usual, friends and family offered advice and support, for which I am very grateful. We are all dealing with the effects of social distancing and isolation differently, and it is so helpful to get others’ perspectives, isn’t it?

Every single day of our lives is uncharted territory – but normally, we have something to which we can relate our daily happenings, and we can usually draw on previous experiences to help us navigate our way through. But I am finding that there is not much in my history that relates to what is happening just now. The pandemic really is an experience that we have never had in our lifetime before.

I was pleased, therefore, to receive ‘a little list’ as one of the offerings of advice, along the lines of ‘10 helpful tips to keep you sane during the Corona Virus pandemic’. I love a little list. There’s a sense of satisfaction in being able to cross an item off, in my opinion. Sometimes, (anyone else relate to this?) I even add an item of something I have just done to a list, so that I can immediately cross it off! Job done? Yep! Breathes on finger nails and polishes them on chest……

Anyway, it’s a very good list. Nothing unexpected on it, of course, but gentle reminders to exercise, meditate, relax, learn something, use technology to connect with others, limit screen time etc.

So thanks to the ‘10 helpful tips…’ today has been another good day. I felt motivated by the gentle reminders and committed to following the whole of Jaime’s yoga class this morning, while Mum and John snoozed on (John, attempting to repair his wheezy chest, and Mum, just because she’s old, I think). The commitment was there and I did follow the whole of the class, but it took a little longer than the hour I’d planned…..

I sat on my mat, cross-legged, ready to start. The doorbell rang. Pause the video. Belt downstairs. Oh, how lovely!! It’s Jack, delivering Mum’s What’s On TV. Hunted round for money to pay him. Stood and had a nice, long-distance chat – garden gate to front door shouty chat. Run back upstairs, re-start the video, sit cross-legged, follow the instructions for about ten minutes…..the doorbell rang. Pause the video. Belt downstairs. Oh, good! Prescription delivery – that’s a relief. Grateful wave to the delivery driver (whose name I don’t know but would love to find out). Run back upstairs. Re-start the video, lay on the mat, wave legs in the air, trying to re-build a now defunct core…….the doorbell rang. Leap up. Pause the video. Belt downstairs. Oh, wonderful! A food parcel! Grateful grin to delivery driver. Trundle into kitchen. Wash the food. Run back upstairs. Re-start the video. Lay back on the mat, wave legs in the air some more…….and finish the class, probably about two hours after I started.

The day so far? Exercise: ✔ Meditation: ✔ Relaxation: ✔

We lunched at about 1.30, just after Mum got up. Still her dressing gown, she enjoyed her egg sandwiches and watching ‘Doctors’. And then we decided to choose a film for the afternoon again. We chose a gangster-type of film – can’t even remember what it was called, it was so bad. But it was certainly an education. Learn something? ✔

After our evening meal, we quizzed with our dear Centre Stage crew. So lovely to see them – I love their company. They make me laugh, as well as think. A great night together and we all did well on the quiz. Use technology to connect with others? ✔

A good day – one which meant I wasn’t glued to my phone. I was shocked to find that my screen time since lock down started, is up by about about five hours a day!!! No wonder I’m feeling disorientated. Constantly scrolling through social media – first Facebook, then Instagram, then Twitter – and back again – and then playing a scrabble game for hours on end, then reading the news….. it has all added up, stealthily, to an unhealthy amount of time. Gotcha! Not going to do that quite so much any more. Limit screen time? ✔ (planned anyway……).

It was a good day for many others today too, I have no doubt, including Boris and his partner, who had a little boy early this morning. But obviously, not so good for all those still being affected by the virus. The daily reported government figures now include those affected in care homes, so there is an increase: 4,076 lab-confirmed cases; 765 COVID-19 associated deaths. Of course, the figures are not accurate and can’t tell the whole story, but they are a reminder of why we’re all in lock down. Stay safe everyone and God bless.