Checking with the doctor by video consultation

 We're so thankful for this flat just now. I can live at one end and Pat can live at the other. We have a "dirty zone" - the kitchen and living room - where we have to wear masks, open windows and wash our hands obsessively. I prepare the meal then scuttle down to my end shouting to Patricia that it's feeding time. Then once the coast is clear she gets her plate and scuttles off to her end. We sneak in with our dishes and pop them in the dishwasher decontamination apparatus to await thorough cleansing.

It occurred to me that this might be a lot of effort to no effect if my catching covid is inevitable. It also occurred to me that there might be things we should do that we have't even thought of. So I arranged to call the doctor.

"Well you mustn't see her", he said.

"I mustn't SEE her?" I emphasised.

"Well, you must't spend time in the same room."

I explained our arrangements I detail and asked if there was any point. He said there was every possibility that I might not catch the thing, and that our approach was appropriate.

This afternoon we had an appointment at the bank to open an account for the café outreach, so I did a quick test after lunch. These are public events as we pop photos of our results online and ask, "does this look negative to you?"

It did. Quite gloriously negative. So off I scuttled to the bank and followed it up with a lightning assault on Auchan to buy various essentials, like cake and strawberries and hard toffees to bring some sunshine into Patricia's life, and into mine. Well, except for the hard toffees...

As I paid in Auchan a lady outside was dashing back and forth shouting "Au secours ! Au secours !"

I turned to look. "She hasn't paid." said the cashier.

In the tram there was some kerfuffle going on. The driver stopped the tram and said he wouldn't start it up again until people calmed down. 

They did, so he did, but then at the main railway station he ordered us all off. (There's always a lot of police hanging round the main railway station.) 

The kerfuffle continued. 

The next tram came. 

I came home, thankful for the peace and quiet of my end of the flat.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A bit about music exams in UK and France

Good news from my sermon buddy

A brief sortie to North Wales