In the time of the virus: day 7

Good grief – a whole week of this.  And lots more where that came from.  I hope it hasn’t been too tough for you, and that if it has, next week feels better.

Sunday, and the clocks have changed.  The sun is shining (intermittently, but all the same it makes a difference).  I slept well and feel better.  I’m sure I don’t have c-19, but am taking extra precautions nonetheless because right now it feels even more important than ever not to pass on any bugs to someone else.  I still have afternoon headaches and sore throat, but nothing to complain of.

After just 3 days spent almost entirely in my room I’m feeling slightly stir crazy.  A lesson for me to remember when talking on the phone to someone with the prospect of at least another 11 or so weeks on their own at home.

What I’m struggling with:

  • believe it or not, the number of phone calls I want or need to make.  I’ve never been at ease on the phone, and hearing loss made that harder.  I can now easily deal with the hearing loss – I’ve found that when I wear my hearing aids and have the phone on speaker, I can hear just fine.  But I’m finding making as many calls as I have recently is emotionally draining.  So I’ve decided to limit calls to daytime (no evening calls), and try to limit how many I do in a day.  Some are important (and I really want to do them) – talking with friends and family who are struggling, but also sometimes emotionally draining.  It’s important to recognise that and pace myself.  Others are just a pleasure – close friends and family, and of course zooming with granddaughter.  The irony of more social contact than I can handle being my biggest challenge right now is not lost on me
  • learning just how negligent government planning has been at preparing for a crisis (this one has been looming since the start of January, but a pandemic of some kind has long been predicted).  Seeing and hearing about people (especially those I love and care deeply about) having to work in unnecessarily unsafe conditions, being asked to put their lives at risk makes me angry beyond words
  • self-isolating (confining myself to my room) as a precaution when I’m confident I don’t have the virus and mostly don’t feel unwell

What I’m loving:

  • the rapid and easy casual communication via WhatsApp, texts, Twitter (I stick with the reliable, the truthful, the inspiring and the kind), Instagram (this I use mainly for craft, mending, cooking and growing inspiration), and zoom (this one has really wowed me – to be able to sit with our granddaughter and chat to her is amazing; having meetings in the safety and comfort of my own home likewise)
  • solitude – aren’t I the lucky one!  I positively relish being alone, and in times past I often picked my time for going out to the allotment to avoid busy times.  I am comfortable in my own skin, as the French would have it, and a certain amount of solitude refreshes me.  There is a world of difference between this kind of solitude, and the loneliness that comes when being alone is unwanted and unsought.
  • crafts – so far I’ve been knitting and crocheting, but I have some sewing plans coming soon.  In particular I want to get round to making something I’ve been thinking about for a while that I know will be appreciated as a birthday present late in April.  It feels good to have plans that take me into the future in a positive way

  • catching up with important people in my life, even if we’ve become more distant until now
  • the sense of social togetherness and community – I am seeing such amazing work being done in my community and beyond.  Generous gestures from strangers.  Extraordinary acts by organisations.  Individuals working in roles hitherto unappreciated and now recognised by all as essential, continuing to work despite being put at risk, despite their fear, despite their anger at having been put a dangerous position
  • photos of life on the farm where youngest son and his family now live.  It’s lambing time now (the cutest Jacob cross triplet lambs born this weekend)

Time seems simultaneously to have speeded up and contracted.  Things that were normal and we took for granted just a fortnight ago are now unthinkable.  I guess the same may be true for us in a fortnight time.

In the meantime, how are you?  I hope you are safe and I wish you well.

See you tomorrow!


About deborah @ the magic jug

Now I've passed 60 I'm still doing all sorts of things I haven't done before, as well as carrying on with the things I already love. I live a happy life with my long term love Malcolm. In my blog I explore local and low tech ideas, food, growing, making, reading, thinking, walking, and lots of other words ending in 'ing'.
This entry was posted in Community, Do what you can with what you have, Family, In the time of the virus, Reflections on life (and death), Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

I love to read your comments. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, and I don't mind if you don't. However, I ask you to respect the 'circle time' rules made by my son's primary school teacher: make a comment, ask a question or say something nice. Thank you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.