Day Twenty

Feest Isolation Days – 3 April 2020

A sneeze!  A cough.  Oh dear.  Is it the dreaded disease?  How could it be?  We’ve been indoors for twenty days.  It’s just a sneeze.  Why am I getting jumpy?  Bristol is not in the top ten for cases per 100,000 people.  I’m not sure where we are but this top ten is a pleasure to avoid. Most of the time we manage our worries and just get on. We clean and disinfect everything that comes into the house, don’t go out, no one visits. Yet sometimes that feeling of anxiety arrives and we’re reminded that our new lifestyle is not one of our own choice but came upon us courtesy of a virus that is trying to find its way into lives all over the world.

There are plans to develop a new hospital in Bristol, like those springing up all over the country. It helps me to discover the source of my current anxiety. Creating a new hospital at a Conference Centre at the University of the West of England that could take up to one thousand ventilated patients brings the epidemic into sharp focus.  Lots and lots of people are going to contract this disease. I always knew that, but reading about the local plans no one wants to talk about shakes my hard won equilibrium. There is no news that doesn’t include the words coronavirus.  Newspaper headlines (read online) screech about masks, personal protection equipment, and the television network presenters sit in front of graphics of the virus that are seared into our brains.  Daily reminders are something you learn how to process and then something new comes along and you have to recalibrate and

refocus attention on whatever it was that got you stable and coping in the first place.

There are going to be days like this I suppose. Stuck inside, unable to help. We’ve only been indoors for twenty days.  We probably have at least another hundred or so to go. We all have to dig deep.  A friend told me yesterday all the jokes were beginning to wear a bit thin.  Perhaps too much of a good thing can be just as unhelpful as too much of a bad thing.

A next door neighbour’s son whacks his cricket bat against something that makes a thudding noise and he expresses the frustration we all share.  My heart goes out to kids all over the country living their lives indoors and unable to go to school, meet their friends or do any of the things kids normally do.  Still haven’t heard from my friend about how we can help organise something for those who haven’t got the resources to buy the things that will help them through this.  I will chase that up!  Something positive to do.

I heard from a New Zealand pal yesterday. She spoke about drinking a very nice bottle of wine and I remembered the generosity she and her husband showed us when they cracked open a very expensive and gorgeous wine for a special dinner she had cooked for the four of us.  Chicken cooked outdoors on top of tea tree leaves and branches. The delicious smell of the smouldering leaves permeated the outdoor dining area. We peered over the treetops and tall palms down to the sea and watched the boats gently rocking on their mooring as cool jazz played on the Ipod and the sun set.  The evening was warm and the food and wine were as special as our human connection. That seems like another lifetime.  Actually it was only two months ago.  Those memories of the smell of the wood smoke and the cool breeze of the evening and the delicious friendship are worth tapping into just now.  And they always will be.  What memories do you have to get you through your trickier days?

Time for a few deep breaths and to get on with the rest of the day in our magnificent home. Sitting in our spring garden, it’s easy to forget why we aren’t going anywhere. And sometimes that isn’t such a bad thing.


Something beautiful to look at! – from the garden now….

A little something for your exercise…


Enjoy.

With love

Kathy x

2 thoughts on “Day Twenty”

  1. hello my dear friend, please keep up the writing and the humour you include in your blog. Some people have an amazing talent for writing in a way that inspires other people, connects people with a common interest and sense of humour and distracts people from the horror that is unraveling around us and those people help us stay sane in this madness. you are one of those people Kathy, keep writing please.

  2. Totally agree that some humour is wearing thin, but not those NIKE slippers! Thank you for making us laugh as we sit up in bed reading your blog.

    You describe the frustration of being housebound so well. We feel that too despite the fact that we have such lovely places to be housebound in. Your garden looks divine.

    Jxx

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