Pandemic you are all mine

January 22, 2021by Layla Zarfati
To those who come to me and tell me that Covid does not exist or that it is nothing more than a simple flu, I swear I could give them a headbutt on the nose, the perfect Mafia-style kind.
I've been stuck in bed for almost ten days now, I've contracted this infamous I don't know how and I don't know from whom, (but how, you of all people who never go out??) since my whole family is also fine.
And I, on the other hand, who when I do things I'm used to doing them properly, otherwise I'd rather not do them at all, had it come complete with all the accessories.
The strange thing about this strange virus is the ups and downs. The first few days it was a constant alternation between feeling better and suddenly getting worse. Then the meltdown.
I have delirious fevers, sometimes I can barely move my eyes. Coughing rips through my rib cage, an internal fire that seems to liquefy all organs. I break into a cold sweat. I measure my fever, I'll be 40 -- no, 36.7. Give me another thermometer these are broken, please.
But let's go in order. After two days of unequivocal symptoms I swab the nearest drive-in. For those of you who have not yet had the pleasure, those two kilometer-long Q-tips are introduced in a rotary motion into the nostrils, up and up again, so much so that it seems they have to be retrieved from the eyes.
I wonder with all the technology we have, is it possible there is no less invasive method? What do I know...a spit on a slide, a lick on the screen of something...?
The nurse politely instructs us to leave and wait half an hour for the result. If there should be "something" we call you first and you come with the car to get the response, otherwise if you don't hear from us within half an hour, you walk back in.
The phone rings three times, "sorry I'm calling to see if you have availability of a toy poodle..." Grrr.
In the 27th minute, my husband invites me to come down, anyway if they haven't called until now....
I take five steps and reseal the phone. At this point let it be for another dog....
"Layla?"
"Yes..."
"Take the car and come back here, dear..."
Azz.
I will preface this by saying that I am not the fearful type, however, I am frightened of one thing. No one has been seen or heard from here. The ASL egregiously absconded, they should have called at least 2 times a day.
Never heard from them. GP treats me by phone, with antibiotics and corticosteroids, now that the situation has worsened.
The fine line between home care and hospitalization I keep pulled, and that little thing bought online for pennies that determines whether I have enough oxygen in my blood.
I don't think it should work that way.
In these endless days I counted all the rafters and joists and slats of my ceiling (relax, they are even), watched the window turn red at dawn and then again at dusk, the birds flutter and I shaped all the clouds that passed by. At night I counted the stars but then the bad weather came and swallowed those too, along with the lights of the towns around the lake.
I made smiles as I bit into slices of cheese, and contemplated contentedly my hands deciding that this enforced inactivity had rejuvenated them. I tried to give an explanation to the bare branches of the tree swinging beyond the glass. Some have alternating branches, others specular. Of course, I was careful not to ask about this or else the shelter would not have been taken away from me.
I have to be honest, though, I get scared at night. The symptoms seem to amplify and so, just like my grandmother did when she was at the end of her days, I left the light on. She knew that the Lady in Black would come for her in the dark of darkness and so she thought to fool her like this. Or maybe she just wanted to see her face, the bastard, who knows?
My little dogs are here, almost not even popping out to eat and staring at me with a questioning look.
I am infinitely fortunate that my family is taking good care of it, including the puppies, who give a lot of thought. And that they also think about the house, which if it's not fixed every day it looks like a bomb went off. And I thank my mom who helps us with meals. I miss the hugs and physical contact and this talking to each other from a distance with masks even in the house seems really absurd. But that's how it is and it will pass. I'm sure it will.
I also hope to return to answer the many calls and emails that are coming in, but not the overly persistent ones, which unfortunately are never lacking.
The phone rang six times yesterday with the same number. On the sixth call I send a message "Sorry, I can't answer, I'm in bed sick."
"I'm sorry," replied the lady, surely a woman, given the insistence, I thought.
Well, nice...
After not even a minute continues
"Excuse me, you don't happen to have availability of a toy poodle?"
Enough. I surrendered. And because he didn't like my surrender, he thought it best to call back.
For the seventh time.
Help!

Maatilayla Breeding

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Layla Zarfati

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Maatilayla Breeding

logo of'Maatilayla farm

"Breeding conscientiously and seriously is a mission and often disregards the economic expectations that we imagine might come from this profession. My driving force is the continuous research, through careful selection work, in giving more and more value to this breed that I believe is already perfect, both in morphological and character aspects."

Layla Zarfati

Recognized

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enci and fci horizontal logo

Contact

Icons-Pawsitive+39 338 761 762 8
Icons-Pawsitive[email protected]
Icons-PawsitiveStrada Vicinale Pianamola 6, 01030 Bassano Romano (VT)

Where we are

google map

© 2018 - 2024 Maatilayla | All Rights Reserved
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