Coronavirus #EasterSunday #Fears #Family #Keepsafe #Grandparents #Grandma #Hospital #Anxiety #Worries

Easter weekend started off so well with the promise of sunshine, lovely food, Zumba in the garden and barrel loads of chocolate, and a new book review.

Saturday I received my first Canadian review for my YA fantasy The Curse of Time Book 1 Bloodstone. I was thrilled and posted about it on my Facebook feed.

But, this is what happened around lunchtime Easter Sunday.

My mum hasn’t been too well and in the morning her face swelled up from her right cheek all the way up to her eye. I saw how bad it was whilst skyping with her at 1pm. (My mum and dad live in Edinburgh.) I mentioned I’d google her symptoms and get back to her with some advice.

Well, I did just that but when I tried to call her back her phone was engaged. I rang and rang. I called her on the landline and on her mobile – still no reply. My mum never keeps her mobile on! It turns out she had been calling the 111 number for 45 minutes. That doesn’t bode well if you are gasping for breath and needing urgent care. Eventually, she got through and was advised by the doctor to go to the Royal Infirmary Hospital.

At last I managed to talk to her just as she was about to leave the house in a taxi. My dad was throwing a nervous fit about her going to hospital at this time, so near the peak of COV19. Rightly so. But, as she has glaucoma, not going could mean she might go blind.

He was also upset that he didn’t go with her. My lovely dad even called himself a coward. Poor dad, he’s thirteen years older than my mum. At ninety one, he’s no coward. Far from it, I reassured him that he did the right thing staying at home. Bless him.

So, what next? I called my brother who like me was worried, and a little upset that mum had gone out gardening and been bitten by something… Instead of staying away from unnecessary chores. Normally, mum and dad have a paid gardener to do their garden upkeep, but with the Coronavirus…

On the way to the Royal Infirmary the taxi driver kept mum entertained. He was a very chatty guy, (as is my mum who loves nothing better than a good old natter,) but his speciality is: doom and gloom. Poor mum had to listen to his thoughts on deaths, suicides, and all manner of Coronavirus horrors. Not really what you need whilst on the way to hospital.

When the taxi driver arrived neither he, nor mum could find where she was meant to be going. Her destination for treatment wasn’t A & E, thank goodness. She had to go to another part of the hospital, another building, a fair step, so it’s just as well my dad didn’t go with her. He would definitely have slowed her down.

No one else was there Thank God – No CoV19 patients – which I was worried about. The first thing they asked her to do was to clean her hands with the hospital gel. Good to know. She saw the doctor straight away who checked the swelling on her cheek and prescribed her antibiotics. And she was out of there as fast as her 78 year old legs could take her.

I suspect in a weird kind of way it was a little adventure for her. Being cooped in day after day does strange things to your mental health. And mum loves to chat and go out. Now she’s home, as a precaution she’s washed all her clothes, taken off her shoes and coat and washed her hands.

Hospital is really not the place to be going at the moment. But I understand that she had to go. Sometimes there is no choice.

Phew, now I can relax a bit. Please God. Keep them safe and well.

All seemed calm until…

The evening… when my youngest remarked that she didn’t feel well. This kind of announcement pre-coronavirus would normally be met with a general look of concern and a “What’s wrong?” But nowadays the response is heightened to: sheer panic, searching looks and examining symptoms. It seems that she has a stomach ache – I reckon anxiety has brought this on – about life in general, her study /work worries, and sadness at not seeing her Grandma’s and Grandpa. Grandma’s going to hospital probably triggered this. But, nevertheless I will be keeping an eye on her. Worrying times.

How was your Easter Sunday? I hope it was okay?

There are no certainties in this strange world we are living in. All we can hope for is that we stay safe and well, care for each other, and let kindness prevail.

Stay safe, don’t go out unless you have to. And only go to the hospital if your doctor advises you that you must.

I discovered these posts on Levine Lowdown – about the political, economic, and mental health aspects of Coronavirus by Guest author Sam Zweck and The Positives of Coronavirus. Please do read:

Hope – A Story in Words and Photography

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A flame of thoughts https://www.kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

This week I am taking part in Jamie’s Week 17 Photo Challenge: Hope

Here’s the link to her blog: https://bluedaisyz.wordpress.com/

I found out about the weekly photo challenge via Melissa’s lovely blog The Aran Artisan: http://thearanartisan.com/

 

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Lush promise https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

The photos are all taken by me in my local Country park which is looking particularly lovely at the moment, hope you enjoy them. Here’s the entrance that I use quite often, and below the photo is the beginning of my little story HOPE, inspired by these thought provoking images.

 

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The open gateway a welcome or a mockery? https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

HOPE

The open gateway beckons like a warm welcome yet it sits in dappled shadows as if mocking me. My troubled thoughts are silent, yet the voice of my heart pounds, a flurry of quiet spasms grips my chest, tightening with each breath that I take. The lunchtime joggers run past, hard and fast, unaware that my breathing is competing with the pace of their laboured breaths in an unacknowledged contest.

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Candy Floss Clouds https://www.kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

I reach the first tiny viewing platform. The fluffy clouds float by on a gentle breeze as if trying to reassure me, doing their best to alleviate my earlier anxiety. The reflection of their inverted shapes slip into the water, a childlike candy floss creation, of delicate hope lifting my rising fear.

 

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The trap https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

Then as I progress further, a darkened branch lays in wait for the unsuspecting visitor, threatening the tranquil scene. It claws reach out, a trap ready to close around its poor, unfortunate, next victim. It refuses to touch the man-made lake, nor does it rest, or disturb the seamless surface of the water. It is as if the trap-like branch is independent of any control.

 

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Iceberg clouds https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

The fluffy clouds now look like iceberg reflections, but even this does not seem likely, as lush green pond vegetation escape the water’s surface near them, promising a possibility, the likelihood of fresh hope. To my left I see a fragile, flowering branch.

 

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Blue promise https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

I turn a corner and the cloud all but disappears, the sky so blue, and the scene so tranquil that I gasp in surprise.

 

 

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I walk on by and find that I had been too hasty, I have been tricked, the clouds refuse to let me go. The dark approaching shadow clings to the right of my viewpoint, joining in with the clouds refusal, a reminder that all has not yet been spoken.

 

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It stretches its shadowy fingers into my pathway creating a dappled carpet to guide me but I stand back, hesitating.

 

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Clouds like frightened suggestions https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

The clouds begin to spill into the water once again, their substance lost in their liquid home, they disperse like frightened suggestions. I stare at my phone as if it is an enemy. For a moment I am tempted to drop the phone into the water, to let it sink, so I do not have to confront this moment, but instead I clutch the phone to me and continue on my way.

 

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The sensory garden’s blue handkerchief. https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

 

I catch the sweet smell of flowers drifting from the sensory garden.  Their aroma is light, almost imperceptible. Snatches of blue sky peek out amongst the blooms, like stolen handkerchiefs, waving, waiting for a conclusion. I continue to the Visitor’s centre, a haven full of thirsty, hungry strangers, unconcerned, and unaware, of my rising anxiety.

 

 

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the noughts and crosses of uncertain shadows https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

 

The stairs leading up to the viewing point are marred with the noughts and crosses of uncertain shadows, but no matter they are only playing a game to confuse me.

 

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The pink and white clouds of hope https://kyrosmagica.wordpress.com

Then and only then do I become aware of the full view of the lake. It comes to greet me with a panorama of endless hope. Its pink and white fluffy clouds smile, reassuring me that I am not to worry, all will be well. At last, I have the courage to type in the number. It rings, and rings, and then at last my mother answers. She is not expecting me to ring right now. She tells me about her hospital appointment, “Yes, it is not the worst news, but it is not the best, I will need an operation, but thankfully my bloods do not suggest cancer.” The relief floods through me, like a thunderous waterfall, tempered by my disquiet at the word, surgery. I relax a little as I hear her next words. “The doctor asked me if I would mind having students present at the operation.”  I hear a faint smile in her voice as she says, “How was I to mind when I wouldn’t even know they are there?”

Bye for now!
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Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica.
Words and photos, good or bad, are my very own!