The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
THAT’S LIFE MUM’S MESSAGE IS TO ‘HANG ON IN THERE - SAFER TIMES ARE COMING’
And so, it happens. On Saturday DD (darling daughter, living with us during the pandemic) enters the kitchen looking peely-wally.
She has a sore throat and a temperature. So, we need to take no chances.
The thing is, someone in her office has just been diagnosed with the virus.
And although they are rigorous about safety – wearing masks and sitting apart – the risk is there.
An appointment is booked at a testing site. On turning up, there is a lengthy queue and no mobile van.
Everyone waits. Eventually they give up and go home.
The next day, though, DD is feeling rather better.
But to be sure, though, another test slot is booked, this time with more success.
There in the medical unit a swab is taken, and the waiting begins.
By now we are all rather glum. These lockdown days cannot be described as busy ones in any sense of the word.
Yet this is a crucial time. It is the week that my mother is due to have her anti-covid injection.
And if my daughter does have the virus then the chief and I will also have to go into isolation.
So, who will take mum to the clinic?
At almost 92, my parent is pinning all her hopes on the Oxford miracle drug.
Yet might this latest development mean she will have to wait another 10 days before she can start the process?
Postal test kits are ordered for the Macgregor and for me. Mercifully, they are not needed.
The results are texted back remarkably quickly and a relieved child hugs us both. She does not have the virus. Which means my mother can be taken to the clinic for her jab.
What’s more, it is decided that DD will be the one to take her.
Because mum is not just getting immunised.
The procedure is being filmed for the local TV news programme.
That night the report appears on ITV Border – and I am so proud.
A former teacher, my dear old mum quotes Shakespeare, and talks of a brave new world.
Then the older generation has been through it before.
Mum was 10 when the Second World War started. As a youngster, she carried messages for the local fire warden.
She was 16 when peace was finally declared. A childhood lost to fear and greyness.
Sure, this pandemic has rattled her. She is the one who can shop until she drops.
Her week is not complete without a lunch at the local garden centre.
Then there is the church coffee morning – and the neighbours to chat to.
Her world, like many, has shrunk immeasurably.
Yet this indomitable woman looks calmly into the camera lens and tells viewers to hang on in there.
She rejoices that the vaccine is being rolled out. She insists that safer times are coming.
That we will come out of this changed. But we will be changed for the better.
I hope she is right. Because this time, touch wood, we are the lucky ones.
BY NOW WE ARE ALL RATHER GLUM. THESE LOCKDOWN DAYS CANNOT BE DESCRIBED AS BUSY IN ANY SENSE OF THE WORD