ISOLATION
I've never been bothered
by isolation; in fact I've
always enjoyed solitary
things, a sense of 'oneness'
around my own self; the
quiet, and the peace. But
now this ridiculous new
friend Covid has taken
me down at the knees.
I'd stumbled, and could
not get up. After 60 years,
I was in a hospital again
for the first time. I fell
into a different world,
indeed. No legs beneath
the knees, no shoes on
those feet. My heart had
skipped a beat.
-
'Nine days into it', the
doctor said, was, 'way too
long', and I should have
been treated earlier. I was
stretched and gusseted,
poked and probed. Handled
nicely by nurses, and then
locked in my own 'Covid'
room - a 'Warning/Stop
Sign/No admittance except
for medical personnel.' I
was flushed with my first
load of medications, by
something they called a
'Cap Two' assortment. The
door herewas frosted glass,
except at the very bottom
12-inches or so, and same
at the top. All I could see
were feet, and carts, going
by. Some noises. Some
clatter, as people cam
and went. At the same
time, unfortunately, the
prevailing thought seems
to be that American Medical
Care includes the constant
idiot-barrage of TV. While
in the lobby, the TV's were
to NY news channels, and
alas, in my isolation-booth
horror-chamber it was just
me and FOX News, a fool's
chamber no better than the
rest wherein every little
occurrence or dotted 'i'
means something; where
the frivolous sit down with
the ludicrous and make claim
to be talking of serious matters.
It's all a headache in and of
itself.
-
The doctor eventually returned,
for another going over . He said
my vitals were perfect. Oxygen
at 99. Blood pressure fine. Lungs
clear. Bronchial OK. Head fine.
He hung around awhile, sort of
bedside-manner interview, and
said I'd should be OK, with
rest and calm, vitamins, food
(hadn't eaten anything in a
number of days). And isolation.
-
Now that's done. I've always
liked the Winter up here, even
more than the Summer : It brings
solitude; quiet; blessed peace;
a raw and more rugged landscape;
scratches of lines, like a artist
would make, drawing a dream
I guess, then I've something.
Isolation beckons home.
I was there again, by 11pm.
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