Lockdown Diary - Monday 21st December 2020

I start the day with an NHS guided meditation at 7:30. There are two others plus the leader. This sets me up well for the day, but is the last of the year and also the last in this format.  We all thank our guide and exchange Christmas best wishes.  From next year the Talking Therapies team will be focusing their meditation efforts (there's a whole lot more they do, naturally) on the eight week MBCT for depression courses and longer guided mediation sessions - a couple of hours to a day or half day. All of this, at least for the foreseeable future, over various platforms. There is a chance the Monday morning session might return, but their existing plans will need to have bedded in, before that becomes a possibility. Talking Therapies has been exceptionally busy this year and they are seriously underfunded.

Before attending any of these sessions with Talking Therapies you have to complete a questionnaire, which consists of several smaller questionnaires, including PHQ-9 and GAD-7, which track your mood. The GAD-7 section questions are are all prefaced by 'Over the last 2 weeks, how often have you been bothered by any of the following problems?', and one of the questions is 'Feeling afraid as if something awful might happen?' This one troubles me in that I always score it low, as I'm not worried that something awful might happen, instead I know something awful will happen, I just don't know when.  In many ways, I think that's worse. I can't change it, so I drive it deeper inside, for now.

During the morning I impersonate Santa, though not sartorially, as I give the carers the presents I've bought for them. I hope they enjoy them but don't consume the contents until after they've stopped working. I've also bought some nibbles for when they visit over Christmas.  They are all so amazing and we couldn't survive without them.

Yoga follows at 10 and there's still a reasonable complement of us.  It ends with more Christmas greetings, though I, and a few others, will be there on Wednesday morning at 7, some deity or other willing.

Time to get changed after yoga: I have to make a trip to the bank to pay a cheque in for my wife and then I have a booked slot at a local supermarket to do some Christmas food shopping.

Just as I parked up to go to the bank, my mobile rang and it was my mother-in-law. Her washing machine has packed up and she's out buying a new one: what makes would I recommend?  After I've solved that problem it's off to the bank.  Good job I came when I did, as when inside I discover that their opening hours are now 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. - now wonder I missed paying the cheque in on Friday! After business at the bank is complete, I return to the car and drive to the supermarket. 

Good Lord! The queue at the supermarket is insanely long. I waltz up to the front of the queue, present my details and am ushered straight in, as soon as I've grabbed my trolley.  It is relatively empty inside - I guess 'cos they are keeping numbers down - and I gradually purchase the things I need.  It's quite a disappointing shop as much of what I'm after runs out before Christmas, so when I leave I've probably got about 70% of what I was after, but to be honest I am just glad to get away.  When I leave the queue is even longer, it now reaches the main road.

Not long after I get home, another set of carers arrive, including one different one, so Santa time again.  Only one carer left now out of the seven main ones who come regularly, and she should be on the final call of the day.

My afternoon is pretty chilled. I eat lunch alone (everyone had theirs while I was out shopping) and watch another episode of 'Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased)' which seems to have become my brief escape during these crazy times.  I'm still not in the right frame of mind to read much or even to listen to music, probably the thing I find hardest. Concentration is in very short supply. I must keep an eye on it as it's one of the signs of impending doom and destruction.

Mid-R & H, the community matron arrives with her fledgling community matron.  They check my wife over and we have a discussion about who's going to visit next week and sort my wife's new PEG out, which needs it's four-weekly balloon empty and refill.  The 'nurse' from the feed company had told me that the district nurses would do it, but they don't think this is the case.  Looks like me and the carers are going to have to be taught to do it. Next week.  I ask about the covid vaccination, and learn that my wife is unlikely to get the Pfizer one, since the logistics of getting it to her when it needs to be stored at -70C are too great. Most likely she'll get the Oxford one, which apparently they are still 'tweaking' as it may be given with something else, not sure what that exactly might be (a stiff drink? lucky dip? who knows?)but I guess I'll learn when it happens.

Time passes.  The carers come for their final call of the day. I become Santa again, briefly. Ho bloody ho bloody ho.

Son #2 starts making dinner and I help a little though he's a bit annoyed when I suggest putting all the bird's eye and cayenne chilies in the ratatouille (variant) will be too much. Nevertheless he restrains himself.

We watch an episode of 'The Mandalorian' and catch up on a HIGNFY. Good job son #2 didn't put all the chilis into the rat, as it is bloody hot.

The end.

As is so often the case, the video for the song I've chosen is just a distraction.  In part it's a video of (some of) the performance, but I find it annoying.  Not that it is without merit, just that the song doesn't need it. I prefer it when the video captures something of the performance but doesn't try and impose a 'reading' of the lyrics on you. In many ways it's like the relationship between a book and a film of the book, and we all know how that invariably goes.  What song is it?  It's called 'Robber' and is by a band who are new to me, The Weather Station. At the moment it seems to be from a single that was released around October this year. It's a grower.

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