nobody dead (yet)
Expectations have changed. Yes, the calendar promises that the Bringer of gifts is coming, but, I suspect that’s only for the children. The rest of us, not so much. Around here, each time that I talk to family on the telephone, a voice in the background adds an andertone: “Nobody is in the hospital. Nobody has died. And my unvoiced echo goes. Not that we know of. Not yet. My own hope is to make it through December, because it ain’t over just yet.
What colour is optimistic?
Today is my first full day of regularly scheduled diuretics. The plan is to remove all the moisture from my body (and soul). As a side effect, my bubbly water tastes odd, and I can’t stray from the comfort of my water closet. Nor drink much water, as that would be counter indicated. By next week a pattern should emerge, and my body may take on the appearance of a shriveled grape.
I did call home, which is why the comments about “not dead yet” were triggered. Best not to discourage those that bave made it this far. Anyhow, other years would have heard commisserations about how sad it is that we can’t be together. Not this year. We all understand the reality of the pandemic. Don’t go, there. call and if you must, send a card. Even the postal person could be a viral vector.
But enough idle chatter. I’m away to the window, to try and catch a glimpse of a sleigh with reindeer. I’m never too old to stop believing in miracles, right?
