Hospital blues…

I’m currently sat in the Covid testing marquee at the hospital where my Lady passed away. I turn up over half an hour early like a muppet so I have to sit here thinking about the countless times I walked past here and in through the main entrance, past the chapel, up the stairs, across the hall and into ICU. It’s not quite as bad as the last time I was here as I can only see a little bit of the hospital building. If you haven’t had a test yet, be warned. It’s thoroughly unpleasant. Quite aside from the gag reflex when they swab the back of your throat, I’ve never had anything that far down my nose. It’s a weird sensation having something touch the inside of your head. That’s what it feels like anyway. So as the procedure was so quick and I had turned up early, I thought I’d go down the the café and the Next Steps group. Every time I go, I talk to someone else each time. So I’m sat there, everyone social distancing in a big room, I pull out the information slip they gave me at the hospital. Oh… I shouldn’t even be here. It says I have to self isolate until the procedure. I even have to keep as much distance from my Princeling as possible… Really? The procedure is on Tuesday and I’m starting my new job on Monday afternoon. Or I was anyway. It makes perfect sense, but the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind and nothing had been mentioned about it, either when the hospital called to arrange the test, nor when I had the test. I just put the slip aside and off I trot. Ok then. I need to leave! I explain and make my exit feeling like an idiot for not reading it before I even pulled away. I have a little cry on the way home as usual.

As I drive, I look around at all the places we’ve been. All the countless drives all sorts of places. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be ANYWHERE we went together… Ever again. Practical much. The feeling washed over me out of the blue like a Tsunami. I had found coping mechanisms for the constant memories when out and about. Early on, I just couldn’t cope with that. I wanted to be as far away from home as possible and never come back. It’s the only time, until now, that I have felt this way.

It’s different this time. I can see various futures now. None of which seem like much fun. Maybe winning the lottery so I can just spend the rest of my life collecting and playing guitars. Even then… I’d be livid if, after all the work we had put into life, particularly My Lady, we won the lottery after she passes away. Pardon the expletive but FUCKING LIVID!! The point is, I can’t see any kind of remotely happy future without My Lady. Months down the line, as I sit here typing about it, I’m sat in a completely confused state again. I mean… How? Why? It wasn’t supposed to end like this at least not until we were really old. Bullshit is what it is!

I go home and explain the situation to my Princeling and take all my toiletries downstairs. Has it really come to this? Later, after we have eaten, I install the new brass sustain block for my Jackson guitar. I had to make adjustments to the bridge but it all went in without issue. So obviously I want to play guitar this evening. It just wasn’t happening. I get times like that. Sometimes, whatever you play, however you change the sound, it just doesn’t sound right. It’s really hard to play through that. So I didn’t. Wiped her down and hung her up for another day. Bummer. Oh well, another written off day. Not entirely actually, as my Princeling and I had a good talk today so not a complete write off. The fact remains, I’m done with today and I’m going to bed. Early too.

Meh…