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Give Me A Break

I’m tired.

Today I am really tired. I feel like the very marrow in my bones has been sucked dry. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like this some days. Given what we’re all going though, it’s surprising that we don’t all get up every morning feeling this way. No one would blame us for saying so, either.

It’s getting tough. Tough on us all. And it only takes one thing on a particular day and we just collapse like a deflated balloon.

Well, today, I feel like this. Exhausted. The proverbial straw on the camels back?

Learning from my sister-in-law that my nephew—who only passed his exams this summer—is working with difficult kinds between ages 11 to 23 in a group home. A home that has cold zones (supposedly safe from COVID) and HOT zones. Those housing young adults infected with COVID.

He only started three weeks ago, and only told his mum, Val, last Monday about the COVID section because … he had to go for a COVID test! It was negative but still, he went into self isolation. He tested again today and has shown no sign of COVID, so we await to see if all is well.

This on top of the fact my sister-in-law can ill afford to be exposed and has, like me, because of an underlying condition, been all but housebound for the last 250 days! She has a heart condition and takes medication to stay alive as she refuses (at age 45) to go under the surgeon’s knife when told she had a 50-50 chance of the op going well, or having further complications.

And then, wham. The Kid says, I came in contact with a COVID patient!

What can you do? What can you say? I’m confident the kid will be okay, he’s young, he’s fit, and has shown no symptoms. But Val? What if he is/was asymptomatic? Even if he stayed for all intents and purposes in his own room with just trips to the bathroom. It’s difficult.

The family has been wrecked with worry. A few more days, and we’ll know if he get’s the all clear but still. He will going back to work, and this could all happen again minutes after doing another shift.

Everyone has taken every precaution. Have done what we’re told. Have done all we can to stay safe, and keep others safe. And yet. There are no guarantees. None.

One kid who doesn’t know what’s going on, acting out because he’s being kept in isolation, pulls off a member of staff’s mask, and it can be all over. It’s heartbreaking for everyone involved. And exhausting.

I think I’m running on an empty battery.

We hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. What else can we do? There are no easy answers.

So, please, wherever you are, with all my heart, stay safe.


A Lockdown Update

It’s been ages since I wrote an update about how things are here, in my slice of COVID-infected heaven. So, seeing how my partner chose to wake me at 7 am this morning to tell me the good news—that the Orange Cheeto and his spouse were COVID positive—it’s been on my mind for a couple of weeks now, how we’re back to square one, in this pandemic game of Snakes and Ladders!

Three weeks ago, here in my province, we were seeing about 88 cases of corona virus a day, mostly mild cases, mostly in people under 50. And ICU admissions were way down. They were, in fact, only a dozen people, at that time, in ICU … And then?

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Enola Holmes!

Finally, a reason to want to buy a subscription to Netflix … THIS!

I mean, come on! Sherlock Holmes’ younger sister, Enola (Millie Bobby Brown,) taking centre stage to solve the puzzle of what’s happened to her mother—who is, of course, played by the superb Helena Bonham Carter. Yes, I’m all in just to see this. The trailer looks like great fun.

Based on the books by Nancy Springer and set in Victorian London (1884), Enola Holmes puts a youthful, female spin of the endeavours of the detective family. With Henry Cavill switching from his Witcher uniform and white hair, to play Sherlock, and Sam Claflin taking on the role of Mycroft. Yet you just know Enola isn’t gong to play ball with her two older brothers and takes it upon herself to become a detective, and find her mother on her own.

Snip, Snip, Snip Part II

We did something dangerous, this week.

We bought a clipper set. We bought a very fancy clipper set … to cut hair. To cut ‘our‘ hair—not other people’s hair, just in case you were wondering if I were starting a new business. I’m not.

For those of you interested in this kind of thing, it’s a Philips 7000 series (though I wonder what happened to the previous 6999 versions?) It comes with three plastic comb fittings. A set of professional scissors, a separate simple plastic comb, and a cape. Yes, we’re going to become super heroes … or something.

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Doctor, Doctor

No, this is not a Doctor Who or knock, knock joke.

I have been without a doctor since mine retired over two years ago. And, since then, I’ve had to do the walk-in clinic—situated across the road from where we live—and get who ever the doctor is for that day. It is very frustrating when you have to get there 20 minutes before an appointment, and then, the doctor is always running late. So that you can end up being in their reception room for over an hour or more.

The last time I had to physically visit was February 19, just before the lockdown was announced. And … 4 days afterward. I fell ill.

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