Given that so many of us are worried about a virus named after a 70s fizzy drink, here are a few random thoughts, good and bad.
Social distancing? What’s new? This is easier for us than for most people. Our kids are a long way away, doing their own doo-dah. Many days the phone doesn’t ring (or bleep). And when it does, it’s when you’re watching your favourite rubbish telly or getting an early night, or flapping about in the bath like a beached wha… er, lovely magical dolphin. If it wasn’t for the difficulty getting groceries without getting infected, distancing would be a doddle. Talking of which…
Hurrah for Morrisons’ lucky dip food boxes, which seem to be obtainable when few other supermarket delivery slots are. Mind you, we’ve yet to try one, though one is on order. We may change our mind once we’ve seen what’s inside… never a fan of poppyseed custard creams. But I’m too scared to go the shops. The last thing I want to do is catch something that will infect my partner. Talking of which…
Having witnessed my partner not being given medication on time, every time, in a dedicated neurological ward full of PD patients, what’s the chance of the drugs being dished out promptly in a hospital heaving with Covid-19 sufferers? How about getting a DBS battery recharged in there? Some hope. We’ve written a To Whom It May Concern letter explaining the treatment schedule, just in case, but, yunno, it ain’t gonna get read. And I won’t be allowed to dole out the drugs, that’ll be deemed too risky. But I’d be glad to; after all, if my partner suffers from it, even departs because of it, why would I want to avoid the virus myself? I’ve spent the best part of 20 years caring, sharing and loving, I don’t wanna stop now, sure as eggs is… unobtainable round here right now. Talking of which…
We tried to get deliveries from Sainsbury’s but could not. They sent an email telling us we weren’t known to be disabled, which might qualify us for home deliveries, but we could phone a number to talk it over, perhaps to register, but probably to discuss just how decrepit we are. But you can’t get through. Then, when we eventually did, a recorded voice told us the Government would decide whether we were too susceptible to collect our own shopping. Like they would know. So we’ve given up – it’s always a relief to just stop trying. Who knows – perhaps the Army will soon be on the streets delivering rations, hurrah. Have you eaten Army rations? Huwwwagh. If we are meant to avoid Covid-19 (I was a nuisance at age 19, so it figures a teenage virus would be big trouble), then surely someone has to ensure we don’t have to go out to the shops and catch it. It’s not been made easy for us, has it? Anyone agree?
Stay well, Parkinson’s people. As much as you can despite your chronic, desperately unfashionable and largely overlooked health condition. And avoid other people. They might be heaving a sigh of relief: at least they don’t have to see these crumbling, (modestly) old gits for a few months. Even longer, perhaps – can you really see this over by May Day, midsummer, August bank holiday? I can’t. But don’t take any notice of me. I’m suffering from oldmoanervirus.
well done Morrisons top-notch well recommended