Scene 1.
The signs had been there for days. Steve, always a stickler for rules, had studied the conflicting government guidance and erred on the side of safety. Standing before the blinking red light, he was unrecognisable in a white Hazmat suit, respirator face-mask and blue protective gloves. Not that there was anyone else present to recognise him.
“Only one flash per second. Dear old boy, not much life left. ” He breathed out long and slow, turned away and brushing a hand to cheek, made for the door. Note to self… alcohol gel NOW and don’t touch your face!
Following the science of the most cautious of experts, – complete disrobing, bagging up the PPE for secure disposal, throwing contaminated clothes in for a 90 degree wash, swabbing down all surfaces, having a hot shower and full change of clothes, followed by a UV dose of garden sun – all this was now such a familiar routine.
Malleable in the heat, thoughts skittered. No disagreement from the boffins that periods of frenetic activity at unexpected times interspersed with a sharply falling temperature and pressure did not bode well. The light blinked that truth. Better to not tell Mum. She would be exhausted after a double cleaning shift on the ward.
Scene 2.
Marie knew that laboured Cheyne-Stokes style exhalation and the sodden-wood smell of approaching death. Been there so many times before. But this was different – here in her own home. Steeling herself, she readied for death watch, observed the life force slowly ignite and then extinguish, only to seemingly re-ignite and then again cut out. And now unresponsive.
She worried about telling Steve. Her son, overcautious to the point of obsession, was already so stressed out by this whole COVID scenario. Remember his reaction when Dad said that he wanted to die at home not there at the hospice. How could he cope with this?
Through the French Windows, she could see Steve under the parasol, face upturned to the sun. “Mom can you turn on the washing machine, 90 Degrees. I forgot”
Scene 3.
No sound of any kind, neither beeps nor bells… just alternate flashing red and blue indicator lights. Steve and Marie made a decision. Before inviting possible asymptomatic or pre-symptomatic people into their household, they would research resuscitation techniques online and have a go themselves. Here goes.
Epilogue.
Many attempts later defeat was conceded.
Best “call it a day” and summon the professionals said Marie.
Could it be The New Agers are correct and there ARE unknown forces at play in the cosmos mused Steve. Otherwise how explain that
- the central heating boiler,
- the gas cooker and
- the communal i-pad,
all gave up the ghost within 24 hours of each other. Maybe household appliances do indeed vibrate in sympathy with each other? R.I.P.
