2022 and all that

Today the village is celebrating VE Day. Flags and bunting are everywhere. I’m going to see Dad a bit earlier than normal so I can sit out in my garden and celebrate with the neighbours over the wall

After that, might join the translators on Zoom for a quiz. Tomorrow’s my birthday and I’ve got another Zoom session planned with family and friends. This is what passes for a social life these days.

With some kind of announcement about easing the lockdown imminent on Sunday, have been giving a bit of thought as to whether or not to wear masks. A friend of a friend in Italy is making them.

I looked up instructions online. You need to make them out of tightly woven cotton, like bedsheets, and interface them with a layer or two of unwoven material like a vacuum cleaner HEPA filter. They should incorporate something like a metal paperclip so you can make them fit snugly over the nose. Might be pressing Mum’s sewing machine into service…

Dad is OK this morning. He got up, had a shower and then felt exhausted and went back to bed until 9. Then he got up again, the 9:30 carer made him a cup of tea and he was just making breakfast when I called at 10:00. Considering I calculate that he’s at Day 8 after the start of symptoms, I think he’s doing well because this is the point where covid-19 can turn into the severe form.

For once, not a lot to report. Dad is much the same and coping well. He still has a slight cough but it’s not keeping him awake. He’s managing to eat something, though not much. He spoke to his neighbour John from afar yesterday and John’s completely well.

The weather is lovely and I’m still walking a lot with the dogs. Nice to see the rural sights.

Dad’s just phoned and he’s ok. He was just going to make his breakfast. Minutes later, the duty social worker phoned to say Dad’s carer was banging at the door and Dad wasn’t answering. Luckily I knew Dad was OK, but we need to get our key safe fitted because of Dad’s deafness: he doesn’t always hear the phone or door.

Just walked through Lea Gardens. No one was there, so I left a donation and walked in. Nearly got lost, but it was no great hardship.

Dad has made his choice of funeral music today for Mum. The opening piece ll Baïlèro from Songs of the Auvergne is very moving and haunting. This has been my first day with a bit of time for reflection and grieving.

Mum’s funeral is going to be at 14:00 on 18 May at Amber Valley Crematorium. Only very close family will be there, but the crematorium will stream it online and a recording will be available for 28 days.

Warning: today’s is going to be a bit of a geeky post about Dad’s potential covid-19 status and testing, testing, testing…

I reported Mum’s death from covid-19 to the GP on 1 May and we were aware she tested positive in hospital on 28 April. Mum’s been the only recorded death from covid-19 in the village. In an ideal world, all the people she was in contact with should have been traced and tested, including Dad and John (their next-door neighbour who helped pick Mum up on 24 April 2020).

The GP receptionist told me that the practice doesn’t have any tests available for their own front-line workers, let alone patients, so that avenue is closed.

At the very end of April, the government made it possible for people to apply for testing, first for NHS workers and then for anyone over 65. Testing is available as home kits or at drive-in centres by applying on-line at https://www.gov.uk/guidance/coronavirus-covid-19-getting-tested#who-can-be-tested. It wouldn’t be safe for me to drive Dad to a test centre, so a home test would be the only option.

The tests have to be done within 5 days of developing symptoms to be effective. I’ve been applying for a test since the government website went online and always got one of the following two messages.

I’m still trying to get a home test, but as the days go by, I’m relying much more on my common-sense empirical approach based on the following average timeline from patient.uk.

Based on this, Dad could only have been exposed to the virus between 23-25 April when Mum was discharged to spend two nights at home, so his Day -5 would fall in this period.

Day 0 could be expected to occur on or before 30 April, and I did notice that Dad developed a dry cough on that day. He also reported feeling “like a zombie” and suddenly exhausted at around the same time.

The safest thing to assume in lieu of testing is that Dad IS positive and day 0 was 30 April at the latest.

If that’s the case, he’s already reached day 5 without any severe symptoms. He’s still coughing, but it’s not keeping him awake. His temperature, oxygen saturation and blood pressure are normal. He feels absolutely awful, but that’s mainly because he’s grief-stricken. He’s managing to get up and make himself simple meals in his isolation goldfish bowl.

I’m keeping everything crossed that he gets through the next couple of days without worsening. If he gets past day 7, we can be cautiously optimistic that he’s past the danger point. By day 14 (14 May), he’ll be through his quarantine.

I feel very optimistic that John, his next door neighbour, hasn’t picked anything up. I spoke to him yesterday and he’d reached day 10 with no symptoms. As 97% of people develop their symptoms by day 11, we can start to breathe a sigh of relief if he’s still ok today. John’s so sweet that when I phoned him yesterday, he was more concerned about me than about his potential brush with the virus.

I’m still trying to get Dad a test of course. However, we wouldn’t be able to rely on the result as he wouldn’t be tested until day 7 at the earliest. This is because he’s already had suspect symptoms for 5 days and we wouldn’t get the test for 2 days even if I could order one today.

There’s been a lot of anecdotal evidence of false negative test results. In fact one of Mum’s doctors in hospital told me that the coronavirus test she had just before discharge may well have been a false negative.

Needless to say, I’ve been doing a lot of counting on my fingers over the last week or so and wanted to write this all down at some stage.

Will be busy today. The registry office is open and we’ll be able to start planning Mum’s funeral. Am keeping an open mind and will be led by the undertaker as I’m not sure of the current rules.

Dad is still doing well with carers going in to keep him company. We had a lovely surprise yesterday when a friend Steve Hannath popped his head over the garden wall with his own G&T at 6 pm. It really cheered Dad up.

Thanks Steve! Next time, I think I’ve worked out how to set up a three-way call on my iPhone so we can both talk to Dad through the glass at the same time.