Yesterday saw the death from Covid-19 of someone I know well and the seriousness of the situation really hit home. When you live in a rural area you feel a bit immune to stuff that goes on in cities, but this virus cares not for age, location, sex, ethnicity nor anything else.
The person who died was one of the women who treated me badly at my last camera club, so I have mixed feelings about her passing. She put me through hell last year when I had done absolutely nothing to deserve it and despite her knowing how difficult my life already was, so I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say I’m deeply affected. On the other hand, her partner also died who was lovely and I genuinely feel for their families and friends as they can’t have normal funerals where they celebrate the lives of their loved ones and receive support from each other. I simply can’t imagine losing my Mum or Dad and not having a funeral. It’s a huge part of the grieving process and I think will have repercussions for those left behind. I know at least one of my lovely readers is also currently in this position and my heart goes out to her.
Having just heard the news yesterday, I totally lost my shit with my neighbour up the drive. As regular readers will know, I am currently pursuing legal action against him as he has to travel over the private driveway to my home to access his upholstery business and for the past 4 years has let delivery vans, staff and customers park on my drive to load/offload which blocks me in my garage.
On Sunday, our Government here in the UK announced a total lockdown. You should only be going in to work if you are classed as “essential”, though can work from home if needed. So what did I find on Tuesday? My neighbour working as usual and a customer, who had come to pick up furniture, blocking me in my drive. Livid doesn’t even begin to describe my reaction.
I am classed as being in the vulnerable group as I am chronically ill, and my 80 yr old neighbours who live only 6ft away from the workshop, are also in total lockdown. The very last thing we need are people tooing and froing up the drive to our homes, especially as my elderly neighbours have no garden or outdoor space so tend hundreds of pot plants in the driveway and were out doing just that all day in the sunshine to pass the time. So I sent a very stern email to shit-for-brains telling him to fuck off home. If he wants to put himself at risk by continuing to work and have customers visiting he can do it at his own house, but not ours. FFS.
I continue to have mixed feelings about the general public’s reaction to the pandemic. They are all freaking out at how they will manage financially with no money coming in. Welcome to our world. When I first became ill with M.E. and had to stop working I lived alone and had a massive mortgage which I could only pay by taking in lodgers even when I was working. So despite being bedridden and at times critically ill, I still had to share my home with a succession of total strangers for 10 years so I didn’t end up losing my home.
People are already going stir crazy with boredom and it’s only been a week. Trying lying on your own, sick in bed, with no internet, mobile phone, TV, radio or books for 23 hours a day for the next 6 years then tell me what stir crazy feels like. Seriously people, get a grip.
I have friends who have been bedridden and lived in almost total isolation for over 2 decades. It is not headline news. Welfare benefits for the sick and disabled continue to be disallowed, or reduced to the point where no-one can possibly survive on them. Social care is down to 15 minutes twice a day – you can’t possibly make a fresh meal in that time. Yet the healthy population haven’t given a flying fuck and, once this pandemic is over and their lives return to normal, they will continue not giving a flying fuck.
So I’m afraid my sympathy for healthy people living for a couple of months without their usual income and in isolation (though for the most part with family) and with little health or social care isn’t particularly high. They are getting a taste of what life is like for millions of chronically ill and elderly people, but at least their life will resume by the end of the summer, unlike ours.