Because of COVID-19, and my own somewhat erratic immune system, 2020 has been a year spent close to home. It’s meant that life’s pleasure have had to be reappraised. Such delights as a visit to the folks, a meal out, spending time with friends and family, or even a trip to the pub have become rationed rarities. It’s meant other treat have crept in to replace them, and chief among these are those twin lovelies, food and booze.
Yup, I have indulged. In fact, I’ve over indulged. A fact to which my burgeoning waistline will gladly attest. And once Xmas is safely out of the way, I’ll need to find a way to lose a little weight. Hopefully, I can do this in a less dramatic fashion that my wife, Tina.
Let me explain.
Losing It
It’s fair to say that the lockdown weight gain is firmly skewed in my direction. A factor of my innate greediness and ability to shift more than my share (and probably your share) of any food on offer (apart from sprouts and bananas. Let’s not get crazy here). No, if either of us needed to shift a few pounds, it was definitely me.
It’s possibly ironic, then (given Alanis Morisette’s wavering definition of the word), that of the two of us, it was Tina who, over the weekend just gone, succumbed to a nasty stomach bug she has yet to shake off.
I say stomach bug, because that, along with Gastroenteritis, seems to be the health professional’s diagnosis of first and only resort. As I’ve eaten pretty much the same meals she has, and close proximity has not served to pass any bugs on, I’m not entirely sure. Tina has had some recent health issue, some of which have caused some upper-abdominal swelling, but the events which kicked off in the early hours of Sunday, well they were a different matter altogether.
Night Terrors
According to the clock, it was 5am when Tina roused me from my masked and anti-snore device aided slumber with an urgency that was unmistakable. She needed to get to the loo, and get there fast, and I (sleeping on the side of the bed nearest the door) was in the way.
This kick-started a night of several such visits. Some to do what the loo is designed for, and some to call Huey on the great white porcelain telephone. It made for a disturbed night for both of us. One repeated each of the following three nights.
Alongside what is commonly referred to as S&D, Tina has also suffered from an almost complete lack of appetite. I think since that first explosive incident Tina has managed two small pieces of meat, a handful of crisps, some chicken soup (sieved of all the bits of chicken), most of a cucumber sandwich, and a couple of pieces of toast. Basic maths will tell you that a lot of outgoings coupled with almost no incomings equals a deficit difficult to make up. It’s true of money and it’s most definitely true of food, especially if the deposits you make get withdrawn before you’ve left the bank.
One Way Traffic
It’s made for a tired Tina. A Tina with no energy and no focus. A Tina increasingly fed up with the malady affecting her. It’s also meant Staff-Nurse mark has had to be on duty for the application of love and support, a soothing hand on the forehead, and the occasional ‘there-there’. It’s meant picking up the shopping and putting at least some of it in the right cupboards. Fetching paracetamol, Dioralyte., and the aforementioned straining of the chicken soup (note to self: get cream of tomato next time). Not that I mind, you understand. It is, after all, what she would do for me.
Luckily for the both of us, I think there may be a few rays of sunshine peeking between the clouds. Last night was our first undisturbed night’s sleep and today has been the day of the aforementioned cucumber sandwich, something Tina made for herself. Along with a packet of Pom Bears, this constitutes the most she’s eaten for four days. Add in that the outbound traffic, on the uphill route at least, seems to have stopped, while the downhill road out of town seems to have slowed and I think a recovery may not be too far off. The homemade bolognese I’m knocking up tonight might be the acid test. Can she resist it? Will she manage any? Will it stick around for a while?
Sweet Success
These questions and others may well decide on how much of an immediate recovery we can count on, whether another call to the nurse will be necessary, and whether Tina can dive into the massive bag of pick 'n’ mix given to us by some rather lovely people before the last sour cola bottle disappears. Hopefully, either way, it won’t be too much longer before this additional health burden is lifted and Tina can get back to something approaching normality.
Now please excuse me while I dig out that last coconut mushroom.
Until next time…
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