Covid-19: When flagged as high-risk

April 2, feels like it never was

April 23. Still 2020?

I don’t know about you, but for me time seems to have stopped. A day feels like a year. What did I do this morning? Or yesterday? Was there a yesterday actually? If so when was it? This year or last year? Was there last week? Last month, when events began cascading at lightspeed, feels so far in the past, as though it doesn’t exist. Everything has blended into one big foggy Covid blob. Did I sleep last night? I know I was in bed. The nights as the days pass slowly, but are more unsettled.

One routine hasn’t changed. First thing in the morning is for my coffee. I drink it in front of the computer in the study, while Alex and Dili are still sleeping. Eh, Alex has become more restless recently and sometimes we fight for the spot in front of the computer. Since this has always been my spot in the wee hours of the morning, I win [is there anything I don’t let you win at? – A].

Feb 24, our last use of public transport – gone from memory

We are in the high-risk group, especially Alex. “Go home and stay home” was a message sent by our Prime Minister a long, long time ago: last month some time. I’ll check the calendar later, to make sure that last month still exists. A call from our family doctor, again sometime last month. For Alex. A chat and a warning – “You have medical conditions that put you in the high-risk group. Stay home”. A message from our Premier – “people with pre-existing conditions and people 70 and older, stay home”. Messages and warnings to the public went out fast. Rules and orders went out even faster. Restrictions were imposed… hard to follow from which level of government they originated: federal, provincial or municipal. But we are in the high-risk group. So some time, a long, long time ago, we hunkered down. We are not taking any chances. We have lots of troubles coming our way sometime in the future. But this virus shall not become one of them! Ontario screwed it up at the beginning, and they weren’t alone: they missed an opportunity, only testing some extremely ill people, and then only if they had travelled out of province. So as in many other jurisdictions Covid-19 is now in the community at large.

No way I’d line up

Shopping for groceries online has become my occupation. First, I have to find an available delivery time. For this I start checking at 6 AM for a slot: no, nothing for Superstore. How about Walmart? Nothing there either…. For the next two weeks that is. There is one for T&T in 4 days, but no products that I need are listed there… Repeat half an hour later. In the meanwhile, I check the headlines: The Globe and Mail, The Star, The National Post, CBC, The Guardian… sometimes a few more. Is the world still standing? Is it still there? Perhaps something had happened, something good, something positive. Is there such thing as a positive news? Or is it an oxymoron? When was the last time I read a positive news story? Perhaps there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Tunnel? What is a tunnel? When was the last time my train went through a tunnel? Or perhaps there is a headline not referring to Covid… Back to my online shopping half an hour later. Nope, no delivery time slots available. Back to the news. What is news actually? Isn’t it something related to events that are new? Is Covid a news anymore? Or is it part of our daily lives? Was there a time before Covid or is this just a brumous dream? [Alex: Yep, that’s a real word. Look it up. I had to. When Diana doesn’t find a world that expresses exactly her feelings, she tends to create one that fits her intended meaning, but it wasn’t the case this time]

April 23, 2019 Brisbane

Facebook is telling me that I was in Brisbane this day last year. Is this for real? Oh yeah, I vaguely remember, there was a city called Brisbane. It was in Australia. That is where I got really, really sick with a bad flu. Was this only year ago? Oh, and another FB-hinted memory – 2 years ago… York England, visiting the train museum. It all feels so far remote as though it never existed. Travel? What travel? Have I ever traveled or is it all product of my imagination?

March 17 – last in-person shopping

I look in the calendar. This is the only tool that keeps time in check. The last time I checked with the calendar it was April 17th. It was only March 17th when Ontario declared a state of emergency. Really? Only a month? I check our credit card statements. It was March 17 when for the last time, one of us shopped in a grocery store. A real store, not online. I don’t remember the time before online grocery shopping anymore. The time when I could go and choose my own non-wilted produce. The time when I could shop from a list and find everything in the one store.

Back to my search for a delivery time slot. 11 AM. Aha, there it is. A slot for Superstore in two weeks. I’ll take it… Now, let’s select the items: No paper products available, but this is expected. Produce – some clementines, apples, not what I want, but I’ll take them. Carrots, lettuce, eggs. No 2% milk. Well this is life now. Chicken? Only expensive from some organic farm. I’ve heard that meat is disappearing. Lamb? No! Pork? Only one type of pork chops. I’ll take 2 packages and freeze them. Beef? Not much. I’ll take the stewing beef. Potatoes – let’s select them all in the hope that one of the 3 types will be available. Diced tomatoes – restricted to only 2 cans; tuna – 2 cans… Will have to order again soon. As soon as I find another delivery slot. Select replacement options…. Order is placed. I’ll have time to add items and replace them until the assigned shopper starts shopping… And then it is a completely different ballgame. I already have an order coming today from Walmart, placed 10 days ago. With delivery timeslots so rare, one has to plan ahead. My Superstore order is received, an e-mail confirms.

Time to make lunch. “What do you cook?”, somebody asked. You know, I don’t have recipes. I open the fridge and see which of the products there have to be used. Which ones will combine well in a dish… Today it is a potato and tuna salad with canned green beans.

My phone notifies me that my Walmart shopper has started shopping. Just in time. Now I have to focus on the texts being sent from my shopper. There are no regular bananas. Can he replace them with organic ones? Sure, I’ll take anything. No whole chicken… No, don’t replace it with trout. And on and on it goes… 6 of 20 items shopped. No white potatoes. OK, any potatoes will do. No lamb. Well this was expected. No replacement please…. Eventually my phone notifies me that the shopper is checking out. 30 min later I get another notification. My shopper is driving. He will be here in 25 min. I can follow him on the map… Ah, there he is… The shopping bags are in front of my door and I receive an e-mail with the photo of them, my receipt and an evaluation form. All is great of course, thank you very much. I leave my tip at 10%. This is on top of service fees and delivery fees. But I am grateful that someone risking their life has shopped for us. Thank you so much!

One of many grocery deliveries in April

The next thing – handle all the products. This one is easy at the moment. It is still very cold – near freezing – outside and in the garage. I put on my disposable vinyl gloves and bring the bags into the garage for now. The meat (if any) I leave on a designated “quarantine” shelf in the fridge. They say the virus can live on plastic up to 3 days. Since the shopping is delivered in plastic bags, I’ll open them up in 3 days. Some items I’ll freeze, some I’ll use this week. And… wash your hands! With soap and warm water!

It is well into the afternoon and still bloody cold outside. Is the government controlling the weather too? Keeping it cold so people don’t go out too much? Time for a walk anyway.

Our quiet neighbourhood before Covid

We live in a quiet neighbourhood. Usually it is hard to meet people on the streets. But now everyone is outside: kids, adults, bikes, rollerblades. I’ve never realized we have so many neighbours. Every time we see people, either they or we will move to the other side of the street. Physical distancing is in place and will probably be for a long time. I am tired of walking around and around. Bored is the better word. I’d like to walk in the park. Park? Was there a park nearby, or is it my imagination? At least we have a back yard. Can’t complain.

April 4, a neighbourhood party

Facebook is another tool that keeps time in check. If I had posted something in the past of course. It has been a long and very cold month. Was it a month actually? Or two? I check the truth with Facebook. Since when did I become a Facebook fan? Oh, it’s been less than 3 weeks since it was warm enough for our neighbourhood “party”. We each sat (our two houses and the two houses across the street) in our driveways far enough from the street. We all had a glass of wine or beer in our hands. We chatted [yelled across the street to each other – A] for about an hour. This apparently was entertainment for the entire neighbourhood: many of the passing walkers took photos of us…And it was at the beginning of April when we sat in the back yard reading and sipping wine… And it was just at the end of March when we had our first dinner outside.

Oh, it’s dinner time again. It is barbequed chicken thighs with roasted potatoes and salad.

One of us is an introvert and will put his head down into his iPad with headphones on. Can you guess which one? [Sorry, did you say something? – A]

I have some choices: read, watch some show or the news. No more news, please. Do I want to hear about our south of the border “genius” neighbour and his next idea of how to cure Covid? Inject yourself with bleach anyone???  Read, perhaps. It was easier in the beginning. I read a lot more then. The beginning? When was this? What happened to the beginning? And was there a beginning? Did I lose the beginning somewhere? Am I living inside a dystopian Margaret Atwood novel? But it must be an end. An end that comes soon.

Soon? Define soon. Some say a year, some say two. What gets me the most however, is that this virus is stealing the best of our retirement years. We were supposed to be travelling right now, enjoying what is left of our lives. Two years is a long time when we don’t know how much time we have left to be together. Perhaps we still have 10 quality years left, or even 15. But what if not? What if in September, when we are supposed to see the specialist, he tells us that we don’t have a lot of time left?

Will we be able to travel again? Will we be able to walk in the parks again? Or is this a permanent state?

My pots ready for seedlings – will garden centres open?

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