We’ve been home from Mexico for a week now, self-isolated as per government orders and waiting for news about when Jack can get back into the medical system. He’s been in touch with his oncologist, who has ordered scans to be scheduled as soon as possible after our isolation ends—in another week. It’s an anxious time. The convergence of this personal health crisis with the pandemic is leaving us uncertain about where he will fit into health system’s priorities. I’m trying to be a responsible citizen about that, but it’s pretty clear to me that Jack should be the priority.
Meanwhile, we’re grateful that our isolation is less confining than it is for those who live in more cramped quarters or urban centres. We can watch spring’s gradual arrival in the yard and fields.
We can walk along our road with no danger of encountering people.
We have plenty of food (and TP). I understand grocery stores are still struggling to stay stocked and people are lined up outside to get in—not because shoppers are packed inside but because numbers are being controlled. I expect when our formal period of isolation ends we won’t actually do things much differently.
A few days ago the local hospital sent out a request for home-made masks. My first response was to question the effectiveness of cotton in blocking the virus, but it turns out they want these washable masks on hand to use and re-use atop surgical or N95 masks in order to extend their life. I don’t know if this makes sense, but I have to assume they know what they’re talking about. It’s a fine use for quilting scraps.
All this in preparation for something that has not yet arrived. Locally, there has been only one confirmed case of COVID-19. My goal is to make three masks a day. My hope is that they won’t be needed—either because supplies arrive in time or, even better, because the anticipated surge doesn’t happen.
I’m reasonably pleased with the way this country is dealing with the pandemic. Of course, it’s hard not to compare ourselves to the chaotic response south of the border, which would make any reasonably competent leader appear brilliant by comparison. Our daily briefings, while a bit self-congratulatory about the government’s response, do at least share real information and honest assessments. Nobody in authority is sugar-coating this, but the tone is calm and respectful.
I’m sure when the political climate returns to normal there will be attacks from the opposition about the government’s lack of preparedness and failure to act in a timely way. Fair enough. There’s truth to that. But so far those attacks are muted and people seem to be pulling together, hoping to flatten the curve and avoid the worst.
Stay well, all of you, wherever you are.
Thanks for this post. The space in that pic of the old mountain is lovely for me to look at. (I think this indicates that it’s time to get out and look at the horizon more often!)
The reason we are all self-isolating is so that Jack can get the medical care he needs in a system that isn’t overwhelmed. That goes for my Dad too, who is having some difficulties of his own. It’s the least we can do for the elders who have raised us.
We all love Jack and want to see him get the very best care. Prayers (’cause that’s what I can offer!) that he gets quick response from docs who are rested and able to make the very best choices.
I love that you are sewing masks! The fact they are so pretty is a definite bonus.
Wonderful to have your wise, witty words and thoughts…I actually do think Jack’s and cases like his should be the priority – of course I am biased but most people are going to have a mild to medium case of flu if anything….DC is further along spring-wise and each day, sometimes in the afternoon walk compared to the morning, trees seem a little fuller, moving rapidly from chartreuse to a richer green; more flowers, from tulips to forsythias and to garden plants I have never seen before – with drooping greenish buds to heads thrown back – I had forgotten how much I like andromeda and bleeding hearts – have not yet found skunk cabbage but could it be late already? Good luck to you – and well to all of us
I couldn’t agree more that Jack deserves priority for his medical evaluation when your isolation ends. Meanwhile, it’s lovely to see that melting snow and your beckoning, empty road.
It’s also heartening to see you are making those masks. Good to know they could be recycled to Stratford as Shakespearian codpieces when all this is over!