It wasn’t Covid!
No, the nasty little bug I mentioned last week, the one that laid out both myself and my quite frankly amazing wife, Tina was, it turned out, just that. A bug.
We tested ourselves on Friday, prior to making a decision as to whether to attend the meal we were supposed to be going to or not, and received the all clear
This meant that the shindig, a date at a local(ish) Thai restaurant with some of the people from Tina’s Friday morning therapy group, could go ahead as planned, and I for one was very glad it could.
I’m not the most social of animals these days, but the party of eight provided good company and lively conversation while we tucked into some delicious and surprisingly inexpensive food (I had the crab cakes and chicken & cashew nut Pad but would have gladly swapped to tina’s tempura prawn & tamarind duck. We forwent the desserts and, as I was driving, I stuck to the cokes, but, thanks to the bonhomie, I missed neither.
So, Covid 0 - Rankins 1
Which was nice and all, but that’s not quite where the scoreline ends.
Caring Is Sharing
The other (football) shoe dropped a couple of days after, when Jen, the wife’s sister, reported that the care home in which their mother lived had, a venue which had suffered a break out of everyone’s favourite pandemic, leading to us not taking Gwen (the lady in question) out that lunchtime, had informed her that Gwen herself was suffering from the malady.
Not, we were told, that it was anything to be worried about (yeah, right—No worrying. Got it. Easy). Gwen wasn’t in any danger, but was, understandably, not feeling her best. It put an end to any plans to pay her a visit (which, strangely, was still allowed before her test showed positive), but it changed precious little about any plans to take her out for lunch.
And then the other, other shoe dropped.
It was Monday, I believe, we got the message from Jen to say she too had succumbed to the dreaded Coronavirus, would, for the foreseeable few days at least, be self-isolating, and could we pick up some emergency supplies (of course we could!). As far as I’m aware the rest is a waiting game for all concerned. Time being the greatest of all possible healers when it comes to these things, although I’m sure the vaccination programme has done a lot to limit the effects and duration of this modern plague (although, of course it could be The Government/New World Order/ Lizardmen From Outer Space controlling us with nanobots to issue in an Orwellian dystopia of total compliance, ensuring we work, consume, and live for the betterment of our lords and masters, possibly with a flat earth and chemtrails thrown in for good measure. Lucky we saw through that one, eh?).
Luckily (and I’m touching wood as we speak—No, not that), neither myself or Tina have succumbed this time around, despite the fears we had around this time last week. It does stress a point, however. Covid has gone nowhere. True, it’s possibly not as all-out dangerous as it was, and true, given the lack of effect on ‘productivity’ it’s not getting the headlines or daily briefings it was, but it is still there, affecting our lives, and threatening the vulnerable.
I’m not saying we should go back to the way things were, far from it. But, especially as the nights draw in, and the weather turns, it might be an idea to be that little bit extra conscious of Covid.
Just a thought.
Until next time…
Hey, there! If you enjoyed reading any of the above, why not take a look at some of my published work? Below you’ll find links to a number of short stories I’m lucky enough to have included in anthologies. I’d love to know what you think
New Tales Of Old
Pestilence: Drabbles 1
Reaperman: Drabbles 3
The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu