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Dear Diary – Lockdowns may be a thing of the past, except in our household. In fact, Hubby equates his current situation with prison.

He had a scratchy throat on Saturday but didn’t think anything of it.

But Sunday morning, as the sun was rising and I was about to leave for church, Hubby tells me his throat is worse. Since we were scheduled to have Thanksgiving lunch at his brother’s later and Eldest son was coming with his girlfriend, I suggested he take a covid test just to be safe.

He called me as I drove home from church. Did I get his texts? His test was positive.

When I got home, Hubby was wandering around house, unmasked, yapping on the telephone. I put on my mask, grabbed my cell phone and timmies, and closeted myself in my room.

When Hubby knocked few minutes later, I told him “don’t you come in here. Go to your room”! Suffice to say, I seriously lacked compassion in that moment.

I talked to Eldest son, texted our pastor, and did my own test. Which made my nose run for the rest of the day. Fortunately, it was negative. Thus began the cleansing of our home, including windows wide open. There was no family gathering, no turkey or stuffing.

I ate my Thanksgiving eggs and bacon alone in front of the t.v.

I had no plans for dinner because we were supposed to get stuffed at my brother-in-law’s. I offered to deliver the unopened ice cream, whipped topping and pies, but my offer was declined. At least we had pie!

Since then, communication with Hubby has been by text. I deliver food outside his door on a tray. We wear masks in the bathroom. I hold my breath brushing my teeth. I don’t latch the bathroom door so I can open it with my foot. I wash my hands. A lot. I analyze every sniffle and cough.

Before Youngest Son returned to school on Tuesday, he had to conduct a covid test. Sticking something up your nose and scrubbing your sinuses with a bottle brush just seems so wrong, on so many levels. Sticking it in someone else’s nose is insane. I was worried that I’d lobotomize him and I’d be stuck waiting on people forever. But with his brain intact and a negative result, he hasn’t missed any school.

But we both feel like walking time bombs.

Hubby went for a short walk one sunny afternoon. Sticking with his prison theme, I called it “Yard time”.

We’ve been so careful. Groceries are still curbside pick-up. We don’t eat out. We always mask. We haven’t travelled; we barely leave the house. And yet the plague has still entered our home.

Dear Diary – I have never been a math genius, so after hours of fighting with measurements and calculations with a tea cozy pattern, imagine my delight and despair that the idiot wasn’t me. In conclusion, the creator of these calculations owns a 15.5” high teapot. Her pattern was 9” high, and the dimensions of her pieces once sewn together was 12.5” high. Something does not add up!

Dear Diary – The end is nigh!

By last night, though I continued to test negative all week, I had a terrible headache, aches, chills, and a fever of 102. I tossed and turned all night, shivering and sweating, wondering what the morning would bring. I’ve been taking care of Hubby…who’s going to take care of me! The endless pile of dishes is stacked by the sink and the pile of laundry continues to grow.

This morning I tested positive. I’m not sure if I should be upset that I’m sick or relieved that there’s no longer any doubt. Hubby and I are now sequestered in our separate rooms. He’s improving and able to work from home. Youngest Son is fine and has been hiding in the basement when he’s not at school.

I have to cancel my 4th covid booster on Saturday. And my chiropractor and bloodwork appointment next week. I,m not even sure how long I have to live in hiding?

Fearing I would starve to death, Eldest Son ubered Tim Horton’s doughnuts and coffee/tea. So if I don’t make it, at least I am happy!

Think inside the box. Love. Life. Donuts.

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