Snow brings a special quality with it-the power to stop life as you know it dead in its tracks. – Nancy Hatch Woodward, American writer, author of “Southern Snow”
Winter forms our character and brings out our best. – Tom Allen
Well, it’s been a couple of unusual weeks so far. The first week was spent homebound with the influenza sickness. The influenza that somehow got me even though I’d had all my shots. Sounds like a child or a dog having had all your shots. They say it helped the sickness not be as bad as it could be if you didn’t take the shots. I woke up feeling terrible and having a fever so Sam drove me to the clinic. When you have fever, you wait in the car and the health care provider suits up with a hazmat covering and shield and comes to the car. It’s kind of nice because you don’t have to go into the clinic and sit with the other sick people.
So, my health care provider took my temperature and started asking questions like, “Have you taken any medication this morning?” I answered, “No, I haven’t taken anything.” And this is one of the reasons Sam comes along because he has to set it right and says, “Yes, she took two Tylenol this morning and threw it up.”
I confirmed with Sam, “I did?” He said, “Yes, don’t you remember?” I tried to think a little harder and decided maybe I did sort of remember it but maybe they shouldn’t ask me questions while under the influence of fever. Sam likes to refer back to when we were in junior high and the threat was always if you did anything wrong, they would put it on your “permanent record.”
“Sam,” I said, “When we get home, remind me to put that on my permanent record so they won’t ask me questions when I’m sick and I get all the answers wrong and you have to straighten them out.” Sam thought that was a good idea too. Then the healthcare provider swabbed my nose and went back inside. When she came out, she said, “You don’t have COVID.” I was just about excited until she said you have flu type A. This meant prescriptions and cough syrup and back to bed in quarantine. It really wasn’t bad being homebound and catered to.
Just as I was able to get out and go to the grocery store, winter storm warnings predicted temperatures below freezing, possibly into single digits, ice and snow. Schools, government offices, churches and several nonessential companies were closing down. Here in the Prairie, we were prepared thank goodness with food, gasoline, generator, propane and water. The next morning the ground and roads were covered with frozen snow and ice and the temperature hovered around nine degrees.
Down the gravel road in the Prairie where we live, they’re about eight homeowners. Almost immediately phone calls reached out from house to house for any that may need assistance. This is what it means to be neighborly. As I write this more winter advisory warnings are to come. Hunker down, be prepared, check on your neighbors, reach out, and take good care of yourself.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
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