My family, otoh, suffer more with anxiety so I have been busy supporting them where I can. Everyone is more stressed, and my daughter who is excelling at school, is finding it difficult to learn online. I tell her to take breaks, but she is worried about getting in trouble (thankfully her teachers seem understanding). DD1 wrote this poem instead of doing her school work the other day, and it has a depth of feeling that amazed me. DD2 is worried about my husband and me dying. And my husband is stressing about work and the fact we're trapped in the house. Yes he can go shopping (he won't go out more than once a week), and yes he goes for a long run daily, but when he's stressed he likes to leave the house and go to the beach or visit someone or go to the cinema or any of the other stuff that we can't do right now.
I've been calm, making the most of the slowing down of daily life and the sunshine in the garden. I've been reading more than usual, doing a new MosaiCraft, and I have even started doing Pilates on BodyGroove. Life has been good to me - until this morning.
Due to having the BRCA1+ genetic mutation, I have an annual mammogram and MRI to check I don't have cancer. This is usually in February, and when I didn't hear anything, I assumed it was because it had been deprioritised due to coronavirus. Last week I had a call inviting me to screening today, and that I'd get a letter through the post. Despite having received a letter from the NHS/Council saying that I need to shield myself for 12 weeks, this is important so I accepted the appointment. My husband wasn't happy, but with everything I have read and seen about coronavirus, I would make sure I took adequate precautions and everything would be ok. I bought some disposable gloves, have wetwipes to wipe down surfaces in the car, made a face-mask from a bandana and hairbands and have antibac gel.
Then this morning it hits me - I am going to the place they take everybody with coronavirus. Doctors and nurses who have PPE have died at this hospital after contracting it, and I am willingly walking into this environment. My rational brain knows that they wouldn't have called me to the appointment if it were dangerous, but that part of my brain went into hiding. I was worried. Thankfully a friend talked with me and helped put things into perspective and making me laugh (I don't know if you can see the skulls on the bandana, but it was suggested I carry a scythe too. I don't have a scythe, but do have a garden hoe, and my husband's scholar's gown from Oxford that would complete the look!). Haha.
In the end, I went to the hospital. I couldn't wear the mask, as though it didn't when I tried it at home, it kept steaming my glasses up. I wore gloves going to the appointment (not during the MRI) and antibac-ed my hands every time I went through a door. And when I returned to the car, I wiped my handbag down, and also the car steering wheel/radio/seatbelt/indicators/doorhandle etc when I returned home again. Now I'm back home, I'm calm again. I immediately changed my clothes and put them in the wash, washed my hands and face again. It may be overkill, but I don't want to be responsible for bringing the virus to my family.
This has made me realise how brave loads of our workers are in this country. I only had to go to hospital for an appointment that took less than 90min. There are men and women who daily have to go to hospital to care for others, to treat others, to clean the wards where people have died or are dying, maintenance people who ensure all the equipment is running smoothly, people in the kitchens making sure staff and patients are fed, receptionists who are the first faces you see when you go to the hospital or to the department, and then the morticians who are encountering large numbers of people who are dying from the virus. God bless you all.
I'm back home and am going to stay safe and stay here until the coronavirus has past. I know at some point I will encounter the virus (it is inevitable) and I hope initially that I don't suffer badly, but also that it will be after the peak of this pandemic has passed.
No comments:
Post a Comment