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My Experience With Covid

April 14, 2022 / Hughena MacDougall / 5 Comments

Overnight Tuesday April 12 – Wednesday April 13/22

During the night I developed an annoying tickle in my throat. With every inhale it felt like a wee feather was tickling the back of my throat, thus causing me to cough. For several hours it was inhale, cough, inhale, cough. When I got up in the morning, of course my throat was irritated. As I got ready for work, doing the usual routine, I knew something wasn’t right. However, I tried to shrug it off. Part of me was saying ‘take a rapid test’, while the other part said ‘suck it up. It’s nothing’. But I think one really does know their body best. Finally I gave in and listened to the part saying ‘take a rapid test’. I prepped my testing work area and even though I’ve taken a few rapid tests, I still read the directions. First is the throat swab. Now seriously, do they have to say ‘this may cause you to gag’. All I have to do is read the word gag and I start gagging. I’m gagging and gagging and trying to calm down to get a swab. Finally success followed by more gagging. Then the nose swabs. Stick it up the first nostril, move it about then push your nostril against the stick and circle a few more times. Yup, so now my eyes are running, I’m still trying to suppress the gagging and I have mucus coming out of my nose. I’m quite a sight. And I still have the second nostril to go. Finally the sample is ready and the three drops are placed in the testing apparatus. WOW, instantly there are two lines. I give it the 15 minutes before convincing myself I have Covid, but I know there is no way one of those lines is going away.

The moment it is confirmed I start shaking. I’m not worried for me, but I’m worried for Mom. Although she is in good health, given her age it could be serious. I try to calm myself down, but so many thoughts rushing through my head. Who was I around recently? I had an eye appointment and a dental appointment last week. I must contact those offices. Co-workers of course. Who else? Thankfully I don’t socialize much, so my list is short.

Physically I’m not feeling too bad. But mentally/emotionally I’m a wreck. It feels like I’ve been running a marathon for two years for nothing. I did everything I was supposed to do and it got me. I continued to wear my mask even after the mask mandate was lifted. I still don’t visit many people and try to keep my distance when out and about. I’m frustrated. I’m angry. I’m scared and worried. We were supposed to go to Sandy’s and Greg’s for Easter this weekend. It is the second time we were supposed to go spend a holiday with them, only to have to back out. My bag was packed and I was ready to go. From now on I will not prep in advance and if I forget to bring something, too bad. I will always be a last minute packer. It is so darn frustrating.

I booked a PCR test for both Mom and I. We are able to get one within a couple of hours, which is great. We arrive and the staff are always so kind and obliging. I have had several PCR tests and have always had the most amazing experience. I don’t envy what these people do. We have to change our mask and sanitize our hands, answer more questions that aren’t on the online questionnaire, and then wait in line until we are called. The next stop is registration and more questions. They are trying to track where the outbreaks are coming from, so they asked where I worked. Then off to have yet another swab stuck up my nose. It’s not the most comfortable experience and this particular one felt like it hit my brain. Again, eyes watering, nose running. We were in and out in less than 10 minutes.

Now I’m waiting. They said 24-72 hours. They told me since my rapid was positive I have to isolate for 7 days from time of first symptoms or positive test, whichever came first. First symptoms during the night, so I’ll be free next Wednesday morning. If only the PCR would come back negative. But again, I know my body and I know I have something.

As the day went on my symptoms grew worse. From the initial irritated throat, I then developed a stuffy nose and I also had an on and off headache. When I went to bed Wednesday night I had the chills, only to become much too warm and sweating a few hours later. Sleep didn’t exactly take place, as my mind wouldn’t shut down. As the night progressed I became increasingly sore. I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed. Often just before getting sick, and while I’m sick, I get a very odd sensation in the small of my back. It’s hard to describe but it is a creepy crawly feeling on my skin. That surfaced sometime on Wednesday.

As I said, my mind doesn’t shut down. I’m missing work and there is nothing that peeves me off as much as not being able to go to work. I feel like I’m letting people down. I really need to turn my mind off.

I hate Covid and I wish it would just go away. However, if this is the worst of it, I’ll feel lucky.

Day 2 Thursday April 14/22 – And the waiting continues. It is only 8am and I’ve already checked my email, for my results, a half dozen times. I had breakfast, but I don’t have much of an appetite. I haven’t lost my sense of taste though, so I’m happy about that. Lunch was much the same. No appetite.

Finally at 11:36 my test results came through. And as I expected, I am POSITIVE.

My doctor called at 3:30 to inform me that my test was positive, even though he assumed I already knew. He was correct in his assumption. He asked me when I first felt symptoms or tested positive. He told me I have to stay in until next Wednesday. He was just making sure I understood the situation. I was quite surprised to receive a call but very appreciative.

I napped this morning for about an hour and again this afternoon. Prior to getting Covid I thought a week at home in isolation wouldn’t be so bad. I could read, knit, write, do word puzzles, play music, sleep, etc. but I have little energy to do any of these things except sleep. My body is so sore that I try to find the most comfortable position and then not move. I had a shower this afternoon and even the water cascading over my body wasn’t comfortable. I always love to wrap in a towel as soon as I get out and even that caused discomfort. It’s not a pain as much as just a dull achy feeling all over. I managed to have French Toast for supper tonight.

No results for Mom yet. And she has no symptoms. Fingers crossed she escapes it.

I will continue to update as I move through this virus.

April 4, 2022 / Hughena MacDougall / 6 Comments

I have had some requests to post more of my poetry, so here goes.

There is a bit of a background story to this one. And a lot of ‘what if’s’. I’ll talk about the ‘what if’s’ later. A few years ago, upon arriving home from work one Friday evening in March, I noticed that I only had one headlight. On Saturday evening Mom and I were going to a concert. I thought about going in town on Saturday morning, to get the bulb replaced, but I decided I wouldn’t bother with it until Monday when I went to work. My workplace had a mechanic and I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to replace it. I decided through the night that I would go in town on Saturday to have the headlight fixed. I was going to be travelling on back roads, going to the concert, and wanted to be sure I had the best vision possible. I also thought, with my luck, that I would likely be stopped by the RCMP and fined if I tried driving with only one headlight. I woke up early, because I wanted to get into town and back quickly. I put on a heavy burgundy winter jacket, but when I went outside I found it was very warm, so I changed to a black vest. At the last minute Mom suggested getting batteries, because the time was changing soon and she didn’t have enough for the clocks and smoke detectors. Since the time wasn’t changing that weekend, I told her I really didn’t want to spend anymore time in town than I had to, and I’d pick them up on a lunch break the following week.

My plan was to pick up the bulb, stop by my workplace to see if the mechanic happened to be working on Saturday, and have him replace it. And that is exactly what I did. It took no time to have my headlight back in operation and I could head home. Since it didn’t take long, I decided at the last minute, to go to Walmart to pick up the batteries Mom wanted. There were very few cars in the parking lot. As I got out of my car, a man emerged from a red car and started to approach me. I was taken aback, as he came directly towards me and appeared upset. He said ‘can you help me? My wife has gone and I don’t know where she is.’ I’m sure my face had a look of confusion. Then he continued. He pointed to the opposite end of the mall and said ‘she went that way. She’s gone. I don’t know where she went.’. As he spoke he was becoming more agitated. I explained that nothing was open in the mall but Walmart, and not to worry she would be back. I offered to check Walmart to see if I could find her. I asked him what her name was. He said ‘her name is Mildred.’ I asked what she was wearing. He said ‘a coat of, of….’ and he then reached out and touched my vest and said ‘a coat of this colour’. I encouraged him to get back in the car to wait for her, while I went in the store. I told him if I didn’t find her I’d come back to help him. He got back in the red car and I went into Walmart and looked around. There were not too many people inside, as it was still early. I went up and down the aisles, but I didn’t see anyone who I thought would be Mildred. The people were either much younger than I would have thought Mildred to be, or not wearing anything close to black. I picked up the batteries, before checking the aisles again. At the end of one of the last aisles I saw a lady that could possibly be Mildred. She looked to be the age I thought she might be, but she was wearing a coat of navy blue. I had nothing to lose and went up to her and asked if her name was Mildred. She smiled and said ‘no. My name is Jean.’ I apologized for interrupting her and said that I was trying to help a man find his wife. I briefly explained, and her face dropped. She asked me if he was sitting in a red car. I said he was. She said ‘that’s my husband’. She abandoned her shopping cart and rushed towards the exit, as I went to the cash. As she exited, she looked back and said ‘thank you. Thank you so much’.

When I got home I wrote this in about 15 minutes.

He Didn't Know Her Name

Can you help me please? I've lost my wife.
I saw her walking, she's my whole life.
Bring her back, I'll wait right here.
She's wearing a black coat, I know she's there.
Her name is Mildred, I love her so.
Why did she leave me?  Where did she go?

I strolled the aisles, no one to find.
I searched and searched, she must be kind.
I saw a lady, in my view.
But she wore a coat of navy blue.
This could be her, I have a task.
Is your name Mildred, I have to ask.

No it's not, her smile so warm
My name is Jean, she did inform.
I said a husband has lost his wife.
He's in the parking lot, she's his life.
Her face was stricken, I read the fear.
"Is he in a red car? I parked so near."

I said he was, it might be him
She said his mind is growing dim.
She thanked me so and rushed outside.
I felt her pain, I could have cried.
Such a pity, no one to blame
How sad he didn't know her name. 

~Hughena MacDougall
March 2014

Now the ‘what if’s’. What if the headlight didn’t burn out? What if I hadn’t noticed the headlight? What if I stuck with my first plan to have it replaced the following week? What if I hadn’t changed from a burgundy coat to a black vest? What if I hadn’t stopped for the batteries? What if I had ignored the man? What if I hadn’t looked for his wife?

I have wondered about this couple ever since. What became of him and his illness? Obviously he probably didn’t get better. Did his wife realize he was as confused as he appeared that day? Who was Mildred? A former wife? A long lost love? His mother? Is he still living? How is Jean coping? Whatever the situation, I hope they had/have support along their journey.

(Names have been changed, so as to not identify the couple. I really have no idea who they were, or where they were from.)

ABE’S WAY

March 26, 2022 / Hughena MacDougall / 4 Comments

Many of you reading this probably read it when I posted it on my Facebook site, but there are a few that aren’t on Facebook that might like to see it. Also, I’ll explain how I came to write Abe’s Way.

I am a member of an online writing group, led by the amazing Marjorie Simmins. I have taken several in-person writing workshops from Marjorie and have been involved in the online group for several months now. We have members from Coast to Coast to Coast in Canada. I am by far the weakest writer in the group, but I love being included. Many are accomplished writers, having many published works. But I look at writing the way I looked at playing various sports; you need to compete (although our group is not a competition in any way) against more skilled people to improve. If you only compete against people of the same caliber or weaker, then you will never improve. To be surrounded by so many outstanding writers, I can only learn more and improve myself.

We meet once every 4 weeks, online, for 2.5 hours. We are given a prompt, idea, suggestion, to work on, but we are not compelled to write about the idea if it doesn’t speak to us. For several weeks nothing spoke to me. My mind was too busy with the current state of affairs of our world. I could not settle it enough to compile anything. And the harder I tried, the more frustrated I became.

On March 5th we were given three prompts, which we could choose to write about, or not write about if we had something else in mind. They were interesting prompts and I settled on “the old man walked down the country lane carrying a suitcase and an empty birdcage.” I thought about it Saturday, after our class, and into Sunday. As Marjorie says, my mind was ‘percolating’. On Sunday evening I curled up on the couch, under my favourite blanket, with a pencil and paper in hand and started to scribble. I knew the old man would have to meet people on his walk, but who. I first thought he would meet a young child, and then the lightbulb came on. I would have him meet himself as a young child, and then as a young adult in the military, and this he’d meet his family. When he grew tired, he would stop to rest and open up the suitcase. But the birdcage, what would I do about that. As I scribbled, ideas popped into my head, and just flowed out through my pencil. He was reflecting on his life, he family, his wife Mary and the wee daughter who died young. Oh my gosh, I was getting attached to Abe and he honestly caused me to become emotional. I tried to tell my Mom about what I was writing and became choked up. I know, crazy. Anyway, I scribbled for about 10 minutes and had the gist of the poem set. On Monday evening I spent about 2 hours reworking it, adding to it, taking some stuff out, until the following became the finished product.

Abe’s Way

As Abe began his journey

Along the lush and brilliant lane

He clutched a birdcage and a suitcase

But he left behind his cane.

He shuffled along in slippers

His memories growing dim

His eyes were tired and teary

His dentures were not in.

He soon met a young lad running

With hair like Abe’s so fair

A bat, with glove dangling from it

A ball he tossed in the air.

“Hey there boy. Where are you going?”

He called out to the lad

But he didn’t hear the old man’s voice

To the field he ran like mad.

Abe’s memory started to come back

How he ran the bases four

As homer after homer he hit

That ball he could make soar.

He carried on along the road

The road to who knows where

When to his delight he saw a man

A man, he knew, did care.

As the distance started to diminish

Abe saw the young man’s dress

His uniform pressed so precise

With medals on his chest.

He carefully placed his belongings

Upon the lush and soft green grass

Abe stood up tall and so erect

As he saluted, with military class.

Much to Abe’s surprise again

The serviceman marched on by

To fight the enemy and keep us safe

Until peace was restored on high.

He picked up his possessions

As he scuffed along the lane

Up the steep hill he did climb

His breathing causing strain.

And then he saw a beautiful lady

Someone he thought he knew

He called out ‘Mary, there you are’

But she just walked on through.

Trailing her were four young children

A boy and three girls of blond

Just like his own so long ago

Before young Annie was gone.

This journey made him grow so tired

A bench he stopped to rest

He opened up his old valise

To see what he had left.

He pulled out an old ball glove

Tarnished medals and a beret

A family portrait torn and tattered

His family. Where are they?

He touched the face of little Annie

Her blond curls were so dear

A tear rolled down his weathered face

He knew his time was near.

A nurse came to his room at eight

His needs she would have tended

But he had passed away that night

His journey now had ended.

She noticed one lone tear he shed

His cheek showed a faint stain

But a smile slight she could detect

He was no longer in pain.

They opened up his suitcase

“What’s in it?” said the staff

And there they found his dentures

Abe gave them a final laugh.

He never liked to wear them

They never seemed to fit

He hid them daily on the crew

Always trying to outwit.

The empty bird cage is a mystery

Whatever could it mean

Underneath they found a letter

He wanted it to be seen.

Set your goals with enthusiasm

Live your life, be free

See, and do, all that you want

Soar high above the sea,

Don’t cage your dreams and close the door

And not experience life’s beauty

Go forth, and spread your wings so wide

Abe says that is your duty.

~Hughena MacDougall (March 2022)

So there you have it. The bird cage contained a message. A week or so after I wrote this, I went back to re-read it. I have no clue where any of this came from. I don’t remember thinking much about writing it, as it just came out. I guess the thinking was in the ‘percolation’ period, as the words moved and filtered in my brain. I have no idea where the name Abe came from, as it just appeared on the paper. And I had no clue how I was going to work the bird cage in until I got to the very end. After the struggles I had for the previous weeks, I’m surprised that it really didn’t take a lot of effort to write this. I don’t believe I have ever written a poem that wasn’t fact based and this is anything but. This is total fiction. It’s all very perplexing to me, but I’m pleased with the end result.

I hope you enjoyed reading the poem and the process to how it came to be. Please leave a comment if you liked it, if you didn’t like it, or if you’d like to see more of my poems.

Slow Down

January 8, 2022 / Hughena MacDougall / 14 Comments

I’ve always had a problem pacing myself. I’ve felt guilty if I take an hour or two, and do nothing, or do things I enjoy. I usually only allow myself this freedom if I’ve accomplished several chores beforehand. I’ve decided it is time to allow some ‘me’ time and not feel guilty.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Leading up to Christmas, I felt like the Energizer Bunny. I kept running and running and running, the batteries were growing weaker, but I kept running, and then the batteries died and I hit the wall running. It hurts. It really does. Suddenly you can’t run anymore. You’re energy is zapped. You can’t concentrate like you usually can. Every little thing becomes huge. Normal sounds become noise. This is not uncommon for someone in my situation. However the important thing is to recognize it, recharge the batteries, and continue on, putting one foot in front of the other.

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But how does one do this? There are many ways; a professional therapist for what I call a ‘mental message’ helps, slowing down and focusing on the little things that bring happiness, connecting with nature, or talking to a friend you can trust who may also have some experience in what is happening. Someone who can lend an ear and listen, advise, or just be there for you.

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Why does this happen? There are many reasons for that as well, but for me it was a trigger, that caused a memory, that escalated to an ‘episode’ that caused my thinking to go out of whack. I tried to keep going and going, while ignoring the memory, thinking I could outrun it, but the best thing I could have done was to just deal with it. There are exercises to dealing with triggers, and I should have recognized the situation, but in my mind I was too busy for that. However, on a positive note, I did finally recognize what was happening, and I did what I needed to do.

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What did I do? For starters I used the knowledge I had learned over the past two years and went back to using some of the exercises I had been taught. I also planned to go for a walk around the local golf course, to get out in the fresh air and see the sights from on top of the mountain. The views are tremendous from the highest holes, looking out over the beautiful Bras d’Or Lake. However when I woke up the morning I was going to go for a walk, which happened to be Christmas Eve, there was a 4-5” white blanket of fluffy snow down, that had fallen overnight. How incredible was that? New fallen snow for Christmas Eve. Everything looked like a postcard. And it just seemed so bright and perfect. Instead of walking the golf course, I went for a walk along the road and out to Ballam’s Head, where there are several summer homes, and no person, or creature, had made any tracks on the newly fallen snow.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

While on my Christmas Eve walk, I concentrated on the five senses. I was aware of the salty smell in the air, the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, the patterns the snow made on the branches, the sight of the rose hips against the white background, and taste of the snow on my tongue, as it melted and trickled down my throat. I looked up and saw eagles perched in the trees, as the snow fell coating their feathers. I observed areas where the snow had not yet been disturbed by creatures great and small. I wanted to make a snow angel but I was afraid if I got down, I would not be able to get up. Instead I tramped out a heart in the snow with my boots. I took deep breaths, filling my lungs with cold air. I listened to the eagles calling to one another, and in my mind I imagined them wishing one another a Merry Christmas. I heard squirrels chattering and songbirds singing. I embraced everything I could, on the walk. As much as I dearly wished I was with my brother for the holidays, I was content being home, being as safe as I could be, and realizing how lucky I was to not be alone.

An otter track. It would have been fun to see it sliding through the snow.

The snow looked like cotton balls on the tree.

My path was not all that straight. I was too busy trying to see so much.

I also took the four days I was off from work, from December 23^rd to the 26^th, and did just ‘me’ things. Did I feel guilty? I suppose in some ways, but I knew that I needed to decompress and engage in things that made me happy. I had a few naps and made sure I got enough sleep. Sleep is a must for me. If I get overtired, or if I have a few nights of not sleeping well, I can feel it in my thought patterns. I also spent time knitting, reading, cooking, baking, walking outdoors, biking in the basement, playing tunes on the fiddle and concertina, working on jigsaw puzzles with Mom, and I watched as much sports as I could find over the holidays. I needed to restore and recharge. I just needed to rest.

Going forward I’m going to slow down and smell the coffee, and the flowers too, feel the fibres of wool as I knit, taste test more flavours and be aware of where they take me, listen to the wind, the birds, the wildlife, watch more sunrises and sunsets, look for rainbows, feel the rain on my face, splash in puddles, and listen to my body and mind, and recognize when, and what, I have to do and do it. And no more feeling guilty when I do ‘me’ things.

If anyone is reading this and can relate please know it is okay to not be okay. It is okay to ask for help. It is okay to make ‘me’ time and not feel guilty. You are not alone. Remember to breathe. And if you want to reach out, I’m here to listen.

All photos taken by Hughena MacDougall.

Pewter Tree & Sock Tree

January 3, 2022 / Hughena MacDougall / 0 Comments

The Pewter tree is the latest tree we have added. I think this is the fourth year. Once again we found ourselves acquiring a collection of likenesses. They seemed to be getting lost on the traditional tree, so we thought they needed a tree of their own to be properly displayed.

This tree is about 4′. Some years I put two sets of mini lights on it, but other years it remains unlit. The tree topper is a plain silver star.

Santa and two of his reindeer take up residence under the tree.

Santa and two reindeer under the pewter tree

There are Seagull, Amos and Piper pewter ornaments, as well as other silvery ornaments that aren’t pewter but blend nicely.

You will notice, in the above pictures, that I put ribbon with snowflakes on it, as garland on the tree.

There is a set of six ornaments depicting the nativity.

There are tiny ornaments that hang near the top.

Some have a bit of colour incorporated.

We like the idea of having a tree just for these ornaments, as we can enjoy their beauty on their own.

As an avid knitter and particularly a lover of knitting socks for myself, as well as others, a sock tree only makes sense. There are over 120 socks on this 3′ tree, which is pre-lit with white lights. This tree remains up year round and gets moved around to various locations.

The socks on the tree are all hand-knit by me. There is always a bit of yarn leftover from a pair of socks, so I knit a mini sock after each larger pair is completed.

At the top of the tree are three very special items. Two are socks and one is an angel. One sock is made using red yarn that had a slight sparkle in the wool. I made two mini’s from this yarn. I gifted one to my late, dear friend, Alayne, when she was battling leukemia. I keep the mate to hers at the top, so I can quickly find it and think of her and because she was ‘top’ notch. The other sock is multi-coloured and is from a larger pair I made for my late cousin Norma Billard. The third item is a handmade angel created by my dear friend Judy Guptill of New Hampshire. All three of these have special meaning and deserve to be at the top.

Alayne’s sock (l), Judy’s angel, Norma’s sock (r)

As you can see there are socks of all colours. Each mini sock reminds me of the pattern I used and who they were knit for, if I didn’t keep them myself.

The tree skirt was made by Mom and the material has stockings/socks on it.

Another tree skirt made by Mom. The material is perfect for the tree.

This tree is getting overloaded so I may need to find a larger tree in the near future. But what will I do with this smaller tree then? Oh, I have plans. 😉

That ends the tour of our trees. I hope you enjoyed reading about them, as much as we enjoy having them.

All photographs taken by me.

Celtic Beamer

Page 5 of 11

My Experience With Covid

ABE’S WAY

Slow Down

Pewter Tree & Sock Tree

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