12 November, 2020.
The Eye Hospital around the corner didn’t open till 10AM. I was well enough to walk there, eager to get it over. A strange resignation had set in. I’m missing running in to huge K. If i’m sick, it’d be a disaster to give it to her. Even though she’s only young, with her luck, she’d get long co-vid, which comes with many problems- heart problems, fatigue, organ problems.
The Eye Hospital is one of those mid-1800s Sydney sandstone buildings that make you feel happy because of its golden glow. It’s impossible not to love this city. It’s not far from the harbour, a monument to our colonial past and the slavery of convicts, probably many of them dying on the job, who knows? Did history record how they were treated, how they died? Probably their overlords were drunk with power. Nowadays, all that’s left is quaint Gargoyles leaning from guttering, high ceilings. spaciously laid out. It was hard to find the co-vid testing place, but there it was in a golden courtyard, a white caravan. A male nurse with gentle brown eyes above his poorly tied on mask (nostrils showing) signed me in, showed me how to work the app that’ll give me results. I had only two people ahead.
My turn, and a kindly Thai nurse called Gigi brought me in, sat me down. She was swishing blue plastic PPE. I was now remembering Norman Swan saying that in the early months they used to poke the swabs the wrong way, so that you felt someone was doing archeology in your brain. I hoped Gigi used the new way. And she did. I warned her I would gag. She looked disappointed and I didn’t want to disappoint her. She “depressed” my tongue and told me to say Ahh, and the swabbing would last till the count of 10. So I kept up saying Ahh till I counted ten. She had to do the other side of my throat and I Ahhed the same. We both congratulated each other. Then two tickles up my nostrils and I was done. We both wished each other good luck, I went home and slept.
I woke up when GG came home from his TV interview. They interviewed him at the Stables Theatre, in Kings Cross, where one of his plays was their greatest hit. he’d walked home.
How did you go?
Ok, I think.
What did they ask?
I don’t remember.
I know what it’s like. You don’t want to remember, you daren’t in case you want to beg them can you do it all again. There must be some people who think they were brilliant. But then there are the rest of us. Meanwhile, I’m waiting, waiting….