A Change of Rhythm

This morning I was all revved up to drive to the hospital at Rennes where the wife was being transferred to. I had a hotel room booked and had rehearsed the final stage of the journey on Google Street View. I have never used a satellite navigation system. I prefer maps and to have a mental picture. Then I got a call. They only allow visits every second day thanks to the coronavirus pandemic. So, I cancelled the hotel and have been doing some much needed housework instead.

I had no idea how, with me a recluse, being in the centre of the city would feel. How would I cope with all those people? Would I be like Crocodile Dundee in New York?

This is the first day in three years {at the very least} in which I have not seen the wife face to face on the physical plane.

So, the new rhythm is ~ four hours driving, two hours there and two hours back, and maybe four hours hospital time. Then the next day will be alone here doing gardening DIY, washing. Then four hours driving, four hours hospital etc..

It does not make sense to get a gite or holiday rental now.

I don’t know how my gammy hip is going to respond. When I get out of the car even after half an hour it takes while to get back into my step. It is difficult to start walking, because I am a bit seized up. I might have to break the journey into hour or more manageable segments.

There have been multiple squally showers of hail which means that the 4G internet connection has been a bit pants today.

It was 11 days ago when I drove her to A&E

I hardly know what day of the week it is. I even forgot to get the shopping out of the boot of the car when I got back from the supermarket. Given that there was a nice bottle of Sancerre therein, this is unheard of. It is now sitting tidy in the fridge, no need to worry.

It is damn quiet now…