We are stubbornly refusing to die. I went back to work after 7 days off, following the ‘herd immunity’ government policy. I’m still not 100%, but nothing to write home about. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m still contagious though. The W.H.O. say to isolate for 14 days *after* ending symptoms. UK say 7 days from exhibiting. Who’s right? Ask Boris Johnson.
The better news is that Wendy has turned the corner and is getting better. I was worried as it hit her harder and went straight onto her lungs, which is where the bug gets serious. Now she’s got through that phase and is just feeling weak. She’s trying to get back to work next week.
My plan for today was to fit my new handlebars (lower to make for a better, racier riding position) on my motorbike, go to the shop, then go for a run to test my recovery.
I struggled for ages getting one grip off the handlebars. I thought it was glued on, but eventually realised it was just the rubber was gripping the handlebar so tightly. I pushed a screwdriver inside to open it up a bit, sprayed oil inside, and it pulled off easily. Annoyingly easily after the time and effort I’d put in to it before realising. Once that was off it was a simple job to strip the rest. I put the new handlebars in place,… and what do you know? The won’t fit as they’d smack into the headlight fairing.
I put my old handlebars back on.
I’m thinking of buying a cheap, second hand, headlight fairing and butchering it so the handlebars will fit.
So that was a bust. Again.
While I had the bike out I thought I’d give it a wash, and Wendy’s car, and the house windows.
By the time I’d finished I was breathless, hands on my knees, panting like a dog. Even the really mild mild version of the bug that I had batters your lungs.
I had to go to Sainsbury’s, by which time my headache had kicked in pretty bad as well so I didn’t even attempt the run. I’ll give it a go first thing in the morning, before the day has a chance to exhaust me.
Having the bug for a week, (feeling so, so weak and doing no exercise) coupled with my innate gluttony means I’ve put on a stone. I think a lot of muscle has turned to fat so it’s not a true indication of just how much I’ve put on. I don’t need to scavenge for food now,I just open my mouth as it gets drawn into my gravitational field. I heard that a lot of beached whales die because without the buoyancy of the sea their lungs collapse under their bodyweight. This is probably what’s happening with my lungs.
I’ll try and shuffle my girth into a waddle in the morning. I’ve serious doubts I’ll make a mile, but unless I try I’ll never know.
Everything is odd at the moment. The roads are great, but we’re banned from driving. The weather has turned really nice and sunny but we’re semi-banned from going out, soon to be totally banned. And work has died. When I went off for a week they were desperate for drivers as the panic buying was driving demand through the roof. Then phase 2 of the lockdown shut all the pubs and restaurants and basically killed one of the company’s smaller companies (that primarily delivers to pubs and restaurants). Their drivers with an artic licence have been moved over to our bit, some without have been trained to do order picking in the warehouse. Wendy and I are really lucky to both have jobs (so far) with all this going on. So many have just been sacked off, zero money for 5 weeks while they put in a claim. It’s scary times.
But in the face of the apocalypse, Twitter keeps on making me laugh.
There was a feel-good story of someone embracing the social distancing/ self isolation thing with a conversation by window signs to their neighbour.
Which was cheering for the situation.
So Twitter got in on the act.
Home schooling was popular.
Some random home tales:
The police accused of “overreach” as they implement Bozo’s lockdown suggestions as if they were law:
A story of a bunch of wild goats taking over a locked-down Welsh town:
And the Scottish version:
Some insightful observations:
(There has been a campaign for everyone to go outside and clap at 20.00 on a Thursday to show appreciation for the NHS. And 5G is the next generation of mobile ‘phone signal, which has some tinfoil hatters incensed).
Just to show however bad things are, there’s always one barking loon trying to make it worse:
After that post went viral, two 5G masts were burned down!
Stay safe people.