How to make a quarantini:
Add one measure from each bottle of whatever you’ve got left, excluding beer and wine (oh, come on, you’ve got to have standards). Hope you bought the good stuff, back in the days when we were allowed out.
Today, I read we’re really screwed for the foreseeable future, as there’s going to be a whole generation of people who have been home-schooled by day-drinkers.
So how about that pandemic humour—-is it grim or what?
Being in lockdown is like the the second week after chemo—-you don’t go out and let people breathe on you. Except you don’t know when it’s going to end. I envision the gym now as the Golden Promised Land, redolent with the scent of sporty air freshener and alive with the sound of strenuous, 150bpm dance music. The gym looks like heaven when you’re not supposed to go outside…at all. The second week after chemo wasn’t that bad.
Right now, I should be in the Yes-We-Have-No-Green-Bananas phase of springtime, as my appointment with my oncologist is next week. However, I called MacMillan to talk about the current worldwide situation. The person I talked to told me to follow up with an email, and then yesterday, one of the doctors on my oncologist’s team called me back.
At my request, my check-up has been postponed to August. Yes, I know, normally I get nervous and kinda and start bouncing off the walls. And then afterwards, I’m bouncing off the walls because the news was good.
This time, I’ve decided to make an act of faith.
Rather than risk going out among people with compromised immune systems, I told my oncologist that I don’t feel any different than I did the last time I was there, all of my previous check-ups have been 5-star epic wins. In August, conditions may be better. If they aren’t, I won’t postpone the appointment again. But right now, I think it’s safer not to see the oncologist.
So it’s green bananas all around until August. I have faith.
And if you’re feeling a little shaky right now, don’t worry, you’re covered—-I’ve got enough faith for all of us.