The party’s over, and a good time was had by all, as the saying goes, even though there were only three of us. With cameo appearances by Rachel, Paul, and we can’t forget Adam, who supplied that last round of party favors, pure and clean as the driven snow that also fell this weekend...but didn’t stay; it was after all my birthday.

While sadly, I lost another friend along the way. Despite Dawn’s death…and the continuing pandemic, weather-wise, the first part of the month was relatively warm and sunny, which helped a lot with the grieving, but there have also been dark days to remind me of the/my loss, and that another summer has passed, foreshadowing what lies ahead.

My birthday was quiet, which suited me fine. We ordered late afternoon pizza in celebration, from where else but Gabriel’s, which also had to reclose its dining area. It’s only been two weeks, and I’m already missing Gab’s special breakfast. Those home fries soaked in salt and vinegar were and are hopefully still to die for, no offence to the fallen and their families, with the virus and all.

Dean flies back to Calgary on Wednesday, and though I don’t have a head ache, mentally, I feel like one of my old hangovers, but more the emotional kind. And November’s cloudy gloom, has arrived just in time to set the tone.

Halloween was quiet this year also. No trick or treaters to be seen, at least anywhere around here in South Keys.

Time to put the partying aside...again, and prepare for what lies immediately ahead. The actual operation is the easy part; they put you to sleep, and next thing you know, you’re awake, drinking juice out of a box and eating one of those small packages of oatmeal cookies.

It’s all the preparation that goes on before, and then the pain that follows afterwards. The last time Dr. Bigelow opened me up, he was kind enough to prescribe two kinds of pain medication, one of them, Oxycontin, and an antibiotic, but not Penicillin…bad allergy, it would kill me.

I was apprehensive about taking the Oxycontin, as there’s been so much in the news lately about opiate drugs and addiction. If there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, it is to give all drugs the respect they deserve. I took the medications as prescribed, and when I ran out, didn’t feel any great need to run out and get more. Glad I had them when I did.

Meanwhile, a big broo-ha-ha erupted last week over stats that led to the modified Stage 2 lockdown, 2-3 weeks ago here in Ontario. The bean counters in Toronto didn’t even look at Ottawa’s low 2% infection rate compared to theirs (much higher), and unnecessarily shut us down too. Very few breakouts were caused by restaurants here in the Capital compared to TO. In any case, Ottawa screamed out loud and clear on that one to Premiere Ford, and there’s talk now local restaurants at least will be able to reopen indoors (too cold for patios), when the 28-day quarantine period is over in a week or so.

Speaking of stats, I couldn’t help notice the other day the parallel of what we’re going through compared to the Second World War. I often listen to the radio, when at the computer. Every hour on the hour, the news will list the number of new infections, hospitalizations...ICU stays, deaths and how many have recovered, here in Ottawa, provincially, and nationally too sometimes. Reminds me of the radio broadcasts and newspaper headlines in the early-mid 1940s, listing dead, wounded, missing in action, after any given battle.

Yes, we are at war.


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11/01/2020

Posted on 11/01/2020
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