Two days to go... Everything ready?

I thought I’d got it sorted till I developed a runny nose, sore throat and cough. Lateral flow test was negative but since every article I read said that Omicron symptoms are indistinguishable from the common cold, I thought I’d get a PCR test to be certain.

I could hardly tell my team at work that if they felt unwell they had to get tested and ignore that advice myself, could I?

That would be reprehensible; it would undermine my authority completely. If rules apply, they must apply to everyone. With that in mind, I sent off for my home PCR test. It arrived within 24 hours.

Usual stuff: sealed swab, plastic bottle with liquid in it, bags, boxes, labels, instructions. Soon done. Barney accompanied me to the nearest priority post box to speed it on its way. That was last Thursday night.

Next day, I checked the Post Office tracker to see whether my sample had arrived. No information; nothing all day, ‘til just before midnight, when I found out it had been delivered at 11.33 pm. ‘Great,’ I thought. ‘I’ll soon find out whether it’s man flu (the most deadly disease known to man…) or Covid.

Saturday found me feeling miserable, sorry for myself and in splendid isolation. Sunday came and went (lunch guests duly informed and postponed); I felt more miserable, more sorry for myself and isolation was considerably less splendid. Monday: still no test result. As I write this, I still have no idea whether Christmas in the Field household will be ‘on’ or ‘off’, an uncertainty now shared with Christmas Day guests.

Plans dashed, travel aborted at the last minute, friends neglected; relatives abandoned, celebrations postponed. The twist and turns of Covid mean that we are living day by day with uncertainty. Whether we’re paupers or Prime Ministers, the virus ignores dates, diaries and plans we have made.

It’s familiar territory for this time of year. A pregnant teenager on a three day journey by donkey, sleeping rough and giving birth unexpectedly among cattle because the care and hospitality services were overwhelmed. Shepherds whose plans for a quiet night out were disturbed by an experience beyond their wildest imagining; international travellers changing plans at the last minute after a bad dream, taking a different route home with no prospect of a refund….

The Christmas story is a string of unexpected events dulled perhaps through frequent retelling in which a message of future hope flickers tantalisingly like a star.

Postponing the family feast by a few days is but a small inconvenience. Others face loss of livelihood, financial failure, illness or bereavement.

Pray God they find a hope to cling to and that empathy and compassion continue to shine through any annoyance at the inconvenience of uncertainty.