I can't blame all of my feeling of being in solitary confinement on COVID-19. Our so-called spring has been so wet and the pollen so thick, it's uncomfortable as hell for me to step outside. And it's difficult to blow your nose with a damp tissue.
My sneezing also alarms the neighbors.
Yesterday, I was able to make an appointment to visit a gift shop. I'm terribly late sending a friend a birthday present. They were selling face masks made by a local craftswoman, and I bought one with ladybugs on it because I needed something summer-y to brighten my day.
Alas, that is my only excursion that was remotely fun I will have any time soon.
My medical appointments are starting up again as providers have figured out procedures to keep both patients and staff safe. I can't say I've missed being poked, prodded and stabbed over the last two months.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that reopening the nation doesn't result in a jump in COVID-19 infections, but I'm well aware that's highly wishful thinking on my part. But just as my oncologist will be continuing my appointments because he has to presume I still have cancer until proven otherwise, I will have to continue to quarantine.
It means a very long summer.
No comments:
Post a Comment