And Now We Wait

On Saturdays I see my mom. Every other week we alternate between indoor and outdoor activities: I either have her and her caregiver over for lunch, or we go to the park or for a ride. It's in the 50's around here, so the other day my mom and I went for a ride. A car ride is almost the perfect activity. It's something she rarely complains about, and sometimes even sleeps through. Another pretty sure bet is an avocado and turkey sandwich.

I'm realizing that our current scenario of the mama's dementia and living situation is coming up on seven years. The seven years ago me would have shopped for and made that sandwich personally. That is the guy family way. The one year ago me would put on a mask and stood at the deli while the very nice and shy man who had a black eye for the longest time would make my mama's sandwich. 2022 me says it's seven years into our scenario, and Omicron, baby. We have the internet and mister pickles would be happy to make my sandwich. I ordered in advance online.

When I got to my mom's her caregiver told me that she had a cough. But canceling our visit would mean that we would *all* suffer, so off we went. I like to take her up to the hills, where we went to the memory care unit once. The view up there is stupendous, and you can see for miles. There's even a little airport off in the distance. Mom had many questions about what pieces of land were what, and where we were relative to her apartment and my house. Crinkled up into the interior doors of my car are, GASP, paper maps. Oh remember paper maps? So much easier for old ladies like mom (and me) to look at. I was able to show her everything she was asking about.

From there we took the windy six-mile drive through the trees, and that poops you out into suburbia, where you catch the freeway and breeze home to the mama's apartment. I handed her off to the caregiver and looked toward this weekend which would presumably be a lunch at my house.

Then the call came this morning. That cough? Covid. And I was in a car with her for two hours and she wasn't exactly wearing her mask the whole time (although I was). Argh. Her primary  caregiver, who is both saintly and fun, has agreed to quarantine with my mom. She has her own worries, as she has relatives and a house in Tonga, so I can't believe that she's doing this. We are so lucky.

So this was me today. Waiting for my rapid response. So far, negative, which is good because we not only have mrguy and I in the house, but also our construction folks. I would be so mad if I got any of them sick. We wear masks in the common areas when they are working, but still.

I'll take another test in a few days.