The Anatomy of Covid

 Dear Marmite

Covid has struck. I am a number - just one of the 30,000 plus cases that the UK records every day. I am hardly part of an exclusive group yet I am bombarded with NHS messages, emails, and phone calls. The NHS has invested widely in making my life more miserable than it could possibly be. Fortunately I am not too ill, just too infectious to go out.

Let me begin at the beginning. I was out and about all over the place on Wednesday and missed lunch. When I got home I didn't feel too good. I thought it was a migraine coming on from not eating regularly. I went to tennis in the evening. In the morning, I had come out in hives again. Haha, I thought. More allergy problems. My wasp sting looks like a massive bruise now so it wasn't inconceivable that there could still be something of the wasp still inside me. 

I looked after Ezra-Mae for the day. That went well. I had no cough or any of the other things you are told to expect. I did feel a bit down but nothing to worry about. Friday I went for a COVID test and argh... the result was positive.

At this point, I had no more than a mild cough and cold. I am still not really ill. I have a stiff neck, intermittent coughing plus I feel sorry for myself. Today I woke up, made coffee, and realised it tasted like ditchwater. My breakfast had the flavour of cardboard. So at this point, I have no taste buds but I can still smell. 

My Singapore phone won't load the test and trace app. Despite telling people this, I get so many emails and sms messages to ask me to put my results on the app. A very nice lady from the test and trace service spoke to me yesterday. She was most understanding. I had already informed everyone I had been in contact with but she needed names and numbers as well. This is understandable but when you are speaking to someone on the phone it is not easy to get numbers off your phone. 

Also, I tried to register myself for a retest but again was thwarted. The email with the link to fill in the form gets wiped out when the code is sent in another email. Again this is something guarenteed to piss me off. I am under the weather and the Bloody NHS doesn't seem to have a handle on how inefficient they really are.

This morning the NHS phone call sent my blood to boiling. This is something that COIVD alone has failed to do. I will not answer another call from that number! A lady rang up, told me to self-isolate as it is an offence not to do so. She read from a script so quickly and with the intonation of a robot, I wondered why the NHS didn't save itself some money and employ the robot from Marks and Sparks to read at speed to the 30,000 people who also have COVID. She even addressed me inappropriately so you can see why I was steaming. 

There are some up sides to having COVID, I am getting little jobs done around home. I have finished some craftwork, now I am painting my bedroom. In fact, I am writing this while I wait for the first coat to dry on the window frame. 

Added to this, COVID seems to have helped me slim down somewhat. What is there not to like about this shitty situation. I know this is a crass comment, Marms. I know how many lives have been lost. I watched "Help" with Jodie Comer on All 4. It was a story of a carehome in Liverpool at the start of the first lockdown. I couldn't help wondering whether her Killing Eve Character might rise to the surface slaughter the few who were left alive. When I wasn't wondering, I was crying. It is a seriously good story and uncomfortable to watch. 

So back to painting for me!! 

I miss you, Marms  today would have been a great time for a cuddle.

XXX