Today has been stressful. I feel like I am in Terry Gilliam’s film “Brazil”. Somewhere I read that I needed a Covid passport to fly south and so the morning was spent trying to find one. Not easy because I had the booster in England. Scotland and England NHS’s don’t appear to communicate or update.
Then there are far too many close Covid cases that appeared on my radar. So now I have decided to abandon Plan A (to stay with my sister in London during the funeral – her postcode is a hotbed of cases) and to minimise contact with everyone. I shall live at Mum’s house instead which is walking distance from the crematorium. I shall sit, like the Queen, on my own, taking a taxi to the airport and flying back home the next day, hopefully not catching, carrying or giving anyone Covid, while lateral flow testing as I go.
Life seems very difficult, nearly impossible, but this is the best I can do. Lovely neighbours are leaving me bread, milk, butter and marmite and there are new gaozi (Chinese dumplings) from my last trip in Mum’s little freezer. So hopefully essentials are covered. I just won’t have my sister and her family as support and will get through the funeral on my own. I will and can do this.
Meanwhile, waiting for me at home……
This is probably and should be my family crest. Terriers rampant!
Think of me. This is Hell.