I had a nightmare last night. I’ve been having them often lately. They bleed over into my day, and I strive to untangle myself from their emotional pull throughout the morning and often into the afternoon hours. I don’t remember the details usually, but the emotional stress and tension drags at me. They are froth with struggles, anxiety, and dilemmas over some insurmountable circumstances. In my waking hours I am usually able to juggle activities, make decisions, direct traffic in a busy family environment. I have three projects going on at this time: repairing a rental mobile home, assisting in establishing a small fun center where a put-put gold course is being constructed, and acting as VA building contractor for a renovation project to enlarge a room for a veteran who needs extra space for medical equipment.
But what I think is really causing me trouble is this Covid-19 virus. People all around me is coming down with it. Husband and wife families. The next door neighbor died recently. We were good friends. I called the plumber to repair a leak and open a drain. He and his wife were both tested positive with Covid-19. I feel like I’m playing Russian Roulette with my husband and my life. I must continue to meet with people, shop for materials, even go grocery shopping. So many people aren’t wearing masks. My husband refuses to wear a mask if he sees others with uncovered faces. We both have underlying health problems, but he is the one with the most serious health issues.
The room I’m renovating is for him. The application is being processed at this time, but it takes a month or so to go through the system. I’ve tried for two years to find a contractor who would undertake all the specifics for doing a VA job. I found two who would do it, but they both wanted from eighty to one hundred thousand to do the job. I understand construction. It shouldn’t have taken over thirty five thousand at best, or a little higher if one throws in appliances, etc. We didn’t have the budget for the top bids, so I asked the SAH guy (VA) if I could do the job myself. He said to apply for it, and I got accepted. Then came all the specifications, the drawings, the cost analysis. On the second try, I succeeded, with only a couple of minor corrections. I felt pretty proud of myself. The high-priced contractor said I couldn’t do it, “It is too complicated for you.” Of course, I smiled to myself at his misjudgement.
Only one problem: my husband has been sleeping in the living room, and is desperate to get into a better room. The VA guy said I could start the renovation with our own money, but if the contract didn’t go through or my husband died in the meanwhile, the money spent could not be recouped from the VA. Hmm…I have the foundation, and the plumbing poured and finished. The carpenter is about to begin. And Covid-19 is breathing down everyone’s neck in the community. I feel pretty unsettled risking our meager savings on the risk that my husband won’t get sick.
So why would I take the chance? He getting senile, likes to wave his pistol around, preposition about any woman who walks through the door, and in general asks me to explain anything that is said or done. I don’t want to put him in a care center, but let him age out at home. Getting a safe, quite room away from the bustle of the living room is very desirable. I think my sanity depends upon it.
In the meantime, I wear masks, sanitize my hands when I come in from being in the public, and pray that the Lord will spare us. And trust it will work out.