It’s been a busy week—two ER trips. Monday, John could barely stand, so I took him to the ER. We had just received negative COVID results, but he was only getting worse.
Going to the hospital right now is so different. All they did was isolate him and give him another COVID test before sending him home.
The doctor told John he was healthier than him. Um no. John can barely walk. Dropping him off was hard. He’s never asked me to stay before, even though I do. This time he asked, and I couldn’t. I deposited him in a wheelchair and relied on his text messages to know what was happening.
It’s not just hospitals that have changed. Caregiving is not the same.
I sat outside with two women who were also waiting. One had blood all over her shirt and was waiting on her husband, who she had driven there. The other was waiting on her mother, who has dementia. Neither was allowed in either.
This virus is so isolating.
We went back to the ER yesterday but choose to drive the extra 30 to 45 min to the VA. The second COVID test from Monday came back negative as well, and the VA gave him his third one (fourth if you count the first time we had to self-isolate, but who’s counting).
This time it was easier to leave him. He was in good hands. Everything about the VA felt more efficient. They listened.
The triage was set up in the parking deck. I waited in my car for a few hours before finally heading home to get a nap.
In all, he was there six hours, and they ran every test and X-ray they could. Found nothing, but at least now he doesn’t have to be quarantined form the rest of the family.
While I waited in the VA parking lot, I listened to Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird. I’ve read it multiple times but had never listened to it on audiobook. I pick up different things when I read then when I listen.
This time, Lamott’s comment, “I think Jesus must drink himself to sleep when I say things like that,” really stood out. I just started pitching Was God Drunk to agents. It made me wonder if I’d subconsciously been storing that quote in my memory.
When I finished off Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird, I switched back to David Sedaris. Writers are weird and make me feel normal. I love how they see the world.
