Tag Archives: covid

Tuesday Evening

I picked Julia up from work, watched Pointless, made tea (fried rice with plenty of veg and some odds and ends of meat), watched TV, bickered and finally started to write this.

My emails tell me I missed a necklace on eBay that I had been watching for Julia’s birthday.  It’s a nervy time of year, as I have to buy her a present for our wedding anniversary, her birthday and Christmas, all within the space of a couple of months. Even if I was inspired it would be tricky, but as I’m not, and as she’s no help at all, I struggle.

It was nice, though she really has enough necklaces, and I set up a bid using a sniper to place the bid three seconds before the end. I din’t bid enough.

More thought needed.

There’s always more thought needed. Last Christmas was fine, as she new what she wanted and we went out and bought it just before Christmas, but it’s more normal for me to be left a week before Christmas with every idea turned down and nowhere left to go. She is, unfortunately one of those people who can tell you what she doesn’t want, but not what she does want.

I asked her what she wanted on the menu for next week, as I need to start getting the shopping list knocked into shape for tomorrow night and it’s the same again – doesn’t want anything I suggest but can’t come up with any ideas of what she does want.

It’s very easy to slip into bad habits and lack of variety when you are ordering online (just order the same as last week, says the little voice in my head) but it’s also hard to keep coming up with menus. To be honest, with being back at work almost full time I have become a lot less interested in cooking. I might have to order some of those spice packs just to kick-start my interest again.

Meanwhile, in the world of Covid, UK infection rates are rising and a local school has had to close because several teachers have tested positive.  I spoke to the husband of a teacher today, they have been back less than a week and they have sent 15 of their 250 pupils for tests after they started showing symptoms.

It could be a tricky winter.

 

Study Number 1 - The Idiot

Tuesday Morning

Today, as ever, started with the death of a good intention. I meant to get home and start decluttering before writing, but in the end I went to sit in the back room of a shop and drink tea.

It was relaxing, but not productive.

I then went shopping, even though we are supposed to be doing it by internet. We have somehow run out of bread again so I thought I’d get some in and buy a few extra bits we could do with.

I’ve had a problem with my stomach recently, lasting two weeks. It wasn’t quite Irritable Bowel because I didn’t have my normal stomach cramps, and it doesn’t seem to be cancer as I checked my output and it all seemed normal. In fact, it was quite impressive (thanks to my high fibre diet). Julia has told me not everyone wants to know this, so I will leave it. there. I will, however, assure you that I checked seriously and was not just going through the motions.

Those of you from overseas, who are wondering about that slightly out of place last sentence may want to check this dictionary entry as I fear it is only a pun in English, and even then only for people with school boy humour (or me and Derrick, if you really want to narrow it down). Possibly Charlie and Tootlepedal, but they, having been teachers, are probably on a higher plane than that.

It seems not to be the methotrexate either, as, after the first few weeks this does not seem to cause any reaction at all.

I’m trying to cut out the cheese sandwiches at lunchtime, as cheese and milk sometimes trigger the IBS. There is a pan of carrot and parsnip soup on the hob at the moment because, although I am back to normal I need to lose weight and be kind to my stomach. I will have it with a ham sandwich. In my book, there is little I could do to improve on that.  I’m going to follow up with some yoghurt which I also bought today – time to work on my digestion.

So far, so good, though this is borrowed time and we must soon go back to proper working hours. The days I work are now getting longer and Julia is back on public transport most days. I’m not happy about that, and she isn’t happy about the number of people not wearing masks, but there’s nothing you can do. You can’t challenge people because this is viewed as discrimination. You can’t ask for proof. You just have to sit there and out up with their germs.

It’s a shame that the non-mask-wearing idiots who pretend to be disabled can’t all be struck down by Covid. Instead, ironically, they will be the ones likely to survive and infect others.

The Queue

Sorry, I had to repeat the header picture again. I was going to take more photos today, but didn’t do any in the end.

We went to the pharmacy this afternoon. Julia needed more medication and we had ordered mine at the same time to cut down on the number of times we risked contact, both for us and the pharmacy staff.

They open at 2am. We went down at 2.15 and found a queue of approximately 18 people. We decided to have a drive round and come back later when the rush was over. At 2.50 we returned and found the queue had reduced to 17, though most of them were different people. Several of the people who had been at the back of the original queue had still not reached the shop.

Reluctantly, we joined the queue. As I said to Julia, it was a good thing she had arranged to pick her prescription up in advance, or we’d have ended up in a massive slow queue.

She told me to shut up. Apparently sarcasm does not make queues go faster. An hour later, I found myself agreeing with her. I nearly said: “At least it isn’t raining.”

If I’d said that, I’m sure it would have done. So I restrained myself.

The woman in front of us had her son with her. He was about 12 or 14 and about the same size as her. He had learning difficulties, which originally took the form of engaging in a game of pointing at me and laughing whilst saying “man” and “giant”. He also said “hello” a lot, asked our names and named our hair colours – in my case this was “blonde” so I can forgive him a lot. As they queued, and he became bored, he started wrestling with his mother. She was impressively strong, and very patient. I’m guessing that the lockdown is harder for her than it is for many of us.

As we got to the door of the shop, the woman in front let them take her place, which was pretty good considering it had taken us an hour by that time.

Julia went in before me. I went in a couple of minutes later. She got hers in five minutes, as it was already organised. It was to take me another half hour. I gave them the barcode the surgery had texted me. It didn’t work.

So much for technology.

I had to go across to the surgery. Biosecurity was not as tight as last week, and I was able to walk straight in. Strange, I thought. What was even stranger was the way they had piled up furniture and tape as a barrier. And the fact there was nobody there.

I double checked the notices – there were many prohibitions (this situation is heaven-sent for people who like giving orders) including telling me not to enter if I had an appointment, but there was nothing telling me not to just drift in from the street. Strange…

Eventually someone found me, issued a paper prescription and, after checking my identity on my driving license, gave me a password for the website, which should mean I can just order online in future. In theory. I’ll believe it when I see it.

And that was…

No, that wasn’t quite it.

They were short of Warfarin and had no pain-killing gel. The gel will be in on Monday and the Warfarin on Tuesday. I am, it seems, welcome to queue for an hour any time next week to pick the extras up. I can even queue twice, once on Monday and once on Tuesday, if I want.

This, as I pointed out, rather works against the whole point of self-isolation.