All I want for Christmas is... my PCR test results and a hug.

After last year's Christmas celebrations were "cancelled" for many of us in England due to surging Covid infections, this festive season was supposed to be extra special.  Somehow perhaps we could miraculously heal the isolation of the past festivities by having extra hugs and a third helping of Christmas pudding this time?  Even though I enjoy a quiet Christmas day with Martin, I also relish being out with others.  Whether that is having a mince pie with friends at their beach hut and playing with their twins or even simply having a winter swim and chat with other neighbours.  Last year we couldn't do any of these things due to restrictions, so this year I was going to do it ALL. 

Or so I thought.  Except by the Wednesday before Christmas, my snuffly cold had worsened and I was in bed with a fever of 37.8 ℃.  Even though the lateral flow tests had been clear, with a fever I needed a PCR test.  Apparently I had about a 50-50 chance of having Covid rather than a bad cold with the current infection rates (in London anyway).  The test happily arrived in the post the next day, and was sent back to arrive on Christmas Eve morning.  So that meant I was now both ill and isolating in my very comfortable and warm bedroom.  It didn't really make much difference as I was feeling too poorly, so I was barely out of bed for a few days.  As Christmas day was looming, I wondered what to do?  Delay it all until I'm well or just celebrate it in a sick, socially-distanced way.  We went for the latter.

The blessing that comes from being ill is that it feels so good to be improving.  By Christmas Day lunch time, I could now almost potter a little out of bed and could breathe more clearly without such a painful throat.  Martin made a delicious lunch which we ate as far apart from each other on trays, me perched in the sick-den of the bedroom and Martin at the top of the stairs (with windows open).  For the rest of the day, I curled up and rested, hoping that my PCR result would come soon to release me from a) worry and b) being stuck inside.  

While I was having moments of feeling isolated in the unplanned version of Christmas, I noticed "my" collard dove, Cooey, sitting across from the window perched on my neighbour's house. Cooey has been my loyal bird companion for a few years now, who sometimes just visits fleetingly to feed and at other times hangs around a lot.  He came and stayed across from my window for much of Christmas afternoon, while I coughed and sniffled feeling rather sorry for myself.  He sat with his new partner, who we've named Flappy, and they preened each other for a while, then sat comfortably apart just watching the world around them.  I thanked them for coming and hanging out with me while I rested.

By Boxing Day, I was starting to get grumpy and restless, a good sign that my health was improving.  "I just want to go for a walk now along the beach with all the other happy looking people clutching their take-away drinks" I moaned to Martin from a distance.  It might just be a bad cold anyway after all this, I kept thinking.  Being socially isolated, especially at this time of year with such high expectations of connection is just difficult.  I tried to reassure myself that I was not alone, with a staggering number of people in the UK with Covid this Christmas (or like me, awaiting a test result).  But that didn't really help.  

I was released at the end of Boxing Day, the text finally saying that I was negative. This meant that I could change from feeling like a human to be avoided at all costs, to a normal person who is allowed to be in the same room as another. As we strolled out first thing this morning, it felt wonderful to be back in the human race.  The grey drizzle didn't bother me, it just felt refreshing and exhilarating.  We wandered to the harbour to watch life in its full glory, with visitors, fishing boats, fish and chips and more drizzle all mixed in.  I felt like telling everyone how lucky they are to be able to go for a walk in my newfound freedom and excitement.  As I sipped my comforting hot chocolate sitting on the rainy beach, I just felt happy and relieved to be outside in nature.

But with all the emotional highs and lows, this won't be a festive time that I will forget.  And it has made me extra appreciative of the simple things in life that matter the most... such as being able to hug your partner or pop out of the house for a much needed walk. 

 

"The thing that screws us up the most is the picture in our head of how it's meant to be... what if we just looked at what is and know that this is enough" (Glennon Doyle on her podcast, "We can do hard things")