So now the government is imposing new constrictions on socialising, in an effort to curb the rapid growth of covid-19 infection. 10pm closing time for pubs and clubs with table service only, compulsory mask wearing indoors, no more than six people of different households to socialise at any time, and variants of this regionally. There are tighter restrictions, prohibiting un-necessary movement in and out of areas with high infection growth rates. As well as the boroughs of Caerphilly, and RCT, Bridgend and Merthyr are now areas of concern.
How long before Cardiff joins the list, with its huge student population, and almost religious devotion to boozy nights out socialising in the city centre? It doesn't take a lot of people failing to take seriously the present and great danger of careless or indifferent socialising to boost contagion massively. That's what's happened, and may continue to happen unless everyone comes to their senses soon.
Clare's weekend attempt to book a covid test on-line resulted in a phone conversation with a test 'n trace tracker this morning. It didn't produce an accessible test centre booking however, there was a disparity in the tracking reference numbers she'd been given and one which was against her name on the system. It happens sometimes said the lady, calling from home with a dog barking in the background. Which made me wonder - what happened to the idea of training covid-19 sniffer dogs?
For the moment at least it's still possible to walk in the parks each day. I'm enjoying cooking and preparing meals. Few shopping trips are necessary, as Clare orders groceries on-line for home delivery. I had to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy this morning, but there was no need to visit the shops apart from this. There are very few chances to socialise. Churchgoing in a strictly distanced and sanitized environment works well. People don't hang around for long afterwards, just long enough to ask for news of each other's welfare and health.
Clare phoned me when I was nearing the end of my afternoon walk to tell me that the Hospital's Pre-op Assessment Unit just phoned with an offer of a date for a pre-op assessment, and I should ring pronto to arrange this. The assessment done in preparation for the final round of surgery in February expired at the end of July, by which time the op should have been performed. There was no hope of that happening this year, so at least my name hasn't got lost in the system, though I expect to have to wait many more months before the last op, unless my condition does give cause for concern. My GP has lobbied on my behalf several times lately for which I am most grateful.
I called the Pre-op Unit just in time to speak to the person who had called and agreed a date next Monday morning. A few minutes after coming off the phone delighted at this small step of progress, Clare said "Did you mention that I have a cold, that we are self isolating and am chasing after a covid-19 test?" Then my heart sank. In the excitement of the moment, I'd forgotten this and not considered that the mild tickling sensation at the back of my nose that started after lunch might be the start of a cold for me. Or something worse. I rang back to arrange a postponement, but the line was unresponsive. By tomorrow, I'll know if it gets worse. In the meanwhile, lots of crushed garlic and honey.
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