As the Grim Reaper draws closer, I have changed my Living Will from 'DNR' (Do Not Resuscitate) to 'Yes please - effing resuscitate me and do it now!!'
My Living Will was made in cavalier fashion some years ago, when I decided I did not want HeeHoo to wipe my botty when senility finally arrived.. but a Living Will certainly does not apply when a snivelling virus tells us its 'TIME'.
I mean after all we are the Baby Boomers!! We are the children of the folk who fought and won the Second World War!! We are tough, we are indomitable, we are invincible!! Why should we cow-tow to something that tells us when we, the elderly, will probably die
I booked my ventilator early!! I knew that with all the travelling we had done, that we would be certain to have picked up a bug or two along the way. I mean it was inevitable. Hundreds of thousands of miles in the air, dozens of hours at dodgy airports, escalators, hand rails, trolleys all bristling with Viri of some description. We were both frenetic about sanitising, cleaning, scrubbing, disinfecting, but after a glass of champers sometimes one forgets the niceties and throws caution to the wind!!
Every sneeze, every cough, today evokes a frightful trigger of suspicion. Every tickle, every tingle, every twitch, brings about apprehension. Its been three weeks of isolation but there are plenty more weeks to go, they tell me. And bugs lurk at every corner of our confinement!!
The longer the dreaded lurgy takes to descend upon me, the fewer ventilators there will be and I know I will be thrown onto the 'expendable' pile because of my venerable age...
I am now a graph addict, studying every conceivable article giving flowcharts, curves and histograms. I need to know!! I have things to do, people to see, places to go, before the Grim Corona Reaper decides to drown me!! I have a four year old grandchild to consider, no-one can read stories, and weave magical, mystical tales like Nana!!
And worst of all, its just not as I had scripted it!!
I was to die peacefully and serenely in my princess bed in Bulawayo, gazing out of the picture window at my beautiful green picture garden.
I had chosen that white Broderie Anglaise nightie with the slight fetching frill at the neckline. My adoring children would have gathered from all over the world and would be surrounding me with love and devotion. HeeHoo would be next to me, lovingly holding my hand. My girlfriends would be tiptoeing around the kitchen bringing cottage pies and lasagnes. The Reverend Noel Scott was to have been there to conduct the memorial service, but he beat me to it in Ireland the other day, the Cad!!
I had chosen the appropriate hymns and verses befitting my quiet dignified life in the Community.
Instead I will probably pass onto a better world in a troop ship, or a field hospital somewhere in the Deep South. If I am lucky enough to get my ventilator, it will not be a pretty sight!! Every orifice will be exuding a pipe of some description, AND I do not look good in hospital green!!
My unmarked grave will no doubt read 'Baby Boomer Expendable Number four million one hundred and sixty three' and no one will come to pay their respects as they will all be socially distancing!!
Man proposes - God disposes!!!