Lockdown

Here in New Zealand we are at Stage 4 of the Coronovirus pandemic.  Our government has ordered us to go home and stay home.  We may go out to the supermarket for food, to the chemist for prescriptions and medication, or to the vet for our pets' needs.  Nothing more.  We may take short exercise breaks and walk around the block, but we may not gather with anyone outside our own 'bubble'.  This way we will extend the virus's curve, lessen the pressure on hospitals and hopefully beat the outbreak here.  At this stage, 1106 people have tested for positive; there has been 1 death, and there are 13 people in hospital, 3 in ICU, one critical.

It's certainly a strange time and quite unusual to experience such a total lockdown, but we are sticking to the rules and most of us are coping.  We are lucky to have such great technology to be able to communicate with those outside our bubble and to stay in touch.

I have decided to write one haiku a day as a small discipline, so here we go!


Day 1:  26 March 2020

Just five syllables

Corona virus lockdown
Turn the key, Keep Out

Day 2:

Very quiet here
Voices drift across paddocks. 
Should I play bagpipes?

Day 3:

Sharp knife, unlatch gate,
quickly slice white mushroom heads.
Neighbours watching me

Day 4:

Gloved and distancing
Adam delivers the food
No wine, one apple.

Day 5

Monday, the week starts
Is time going to  matter?
Each day is the same

Day 6

Lots of lockdown jokes

 people enjoying their time
the experience

Day 7
Local store has wine
and rather sad old veges
I really want fresh fruit

Day 8

Autumn is perfect
Clear days, warm sunshine; I think

"one last bracing swim?"

Day 9

Covid deaths rising 

Trump says over by Easter
Bullshit, Trump, bullshit

Day 10
The lake is perfect
No fishing,  and no boating,
Just isolation

Day 11
An outing for food
Fresh vegetables - silver beet
I love it so much!

Day 12
My grandparents’ lives,
Their lockdowns, war, and hardships
with no screentime help

Day 13

Boredom has set in

Unsettled, restless, endless

Don't moan! But I do.

Oddly enough, I didn't carry on.  Lockdown lasted 5 weeks.  We spent these at the bach and brought Francie up with us.  It was an odd time, knowing nothing about the virus, not knowing how long we would be in lockdown, not knowing if you caught it, would you die?  Every day seemed to be another 'first'.  We had weekly cocktails with Anne & Tim, Viv & Alex.  There were an extraordinary number of jokes doing the rounds of social media, and an extraordinary number of people going to great lengths to entertain - opera singers from balconies singing for their neighbourhood - and to help others.  The front-line workers, ambulance, doctors, nurses, volunteers, were phenomenal.  People seemed to rise to the occasion and unite.  

Various countries became leaders in the corona virus death stats.  Trump pronouncing it would be over by Easter and that it was just like the flu.  He called it the China virus and refused to wear or advise wearing a mask.  Finally the stupid bastard caught Covid and was rushed to hospital.  He survived and became a martyr to his cause.  There has been so much written about Trump that I'm not going to repeat the stupidity or irrationality of the pompous little prick.  Save to say that he was voted out in November and Jo Biden is now the President elect.  Trump continues to say the election was rigged.  Of course he does.

Enough already.  Christmas is looming and it will be without the Melbourne team, and the Wellington team is going north with the Suggate family.  Francie, Nick and I will be contributing to Anne, Tim and Charles' BBQ up at Katy's new house in Taupo.  Katy et al are with his parents.

January 2019

"And so we start at the beginning of another year.  I am in a frantically bad space.  My mood is constantly irritable and the list of things that I hate is endless.  But most of all I hate and loathe PWS.  It disgusts me, it angers me..."

I started that blog at the beginning of 2019.  I didn't complete it and I didn't come back to blogging until the end of this year.  It's hard to pick up from where I left off, but I recognise the feelings which have come and gone all year and will remain for the rest of my life.   This year was no worse than the one before it, or the other 36 years living alongside Prader-Willi syndrome except that I had another significant birthday and I have finally retired from working for the International PWS Organisation.

I never finished this blog and now it's nearing the end of 2020 possibly the worst year in this century, at least so far.  Being in a bad space was to become the norm for 2019 and the realisation that I had to free myself from some of the bondage that was pressing me under resulted in my retirement from IPWSO in November of 2019.  IPWSO had become my life, just as the New Zealand PWS Association had been.  But this time, it was so much easier to let go; the timing was exactly right.  My enthusiasm had waned and continued to do so, my empathy was sadly lacking and although I knew I was the perfect person for distressed parents to contact, it was becoming difficult to drum up the necessary energy to take on yet another burden with unsolvable problems.  So the time was right.  The run-up to Christmas was so much easier and although it seemed as though I was no longer important or needed, those feelings lasted just a few days before the joy of freedom to do what I pleased, to sleep in, to attend no more early morning or late night conference calls, no more Minutes, no more answering questions, sending out requests for donations (really hated that part), and no more being obliged to anyone.

It's a year later and although 2020 has been a shit year for the world, it has allowed some breathing space, some quiet times with Francie and some thought for re-direction.  As it happens, during 2020 I took up sketching and water-colouring and continued, when possible, with pottery.  At least NZ managed to get through the Covid attack in a better state than most of the world.