I had a telephone call out of the blue from an old workmate who now lives in Port Hope. Eventually she told of her dilemma when she attended a funeral of a dear friend.
She got to thinking about the lesser challenges of wearing a mask, not should-you or shouldn’t-you, but how to cry with a mask on. It was especially pressing for her because she was an incurable weeper – even if the service was for a third friend twice removed. She said, “I was streaming tears before the service even started.”
She worried about lifting her mask to blow her nose discreetly, but maybe leaving a wet blotch in the middle of it – looking repellant to others.
Then she had remembered that her mask was blue, not black like the rest of her attire and the other black masks of those at the memorial. We finally ended the conversation after I admitted wearing my own mask upside down a couple of times. Her mood lifted after hearing that.
“It’s really unhealthy to wear a mask for prolonged periods because it collects bacteria and bacteria proliferate,” said Colin Furness, an epidemiologist at the University of Toronto. “And the warmer and moister the environment is, the happier the bacteria are to multiply.
I thought about difficulties while wearing a mask last summer in soaring temperatures and the thick humid air. Dr. Price of McMaster University said, “When breathing through a mask you have to work a little bit harder, and the other thing is you’re rebreathing some of your air, so you have not only the heat on the outside, but now you’ve got the heat inside the mask too.”
In that environment, I cheated a little. When no one was looking, I’d lift the bottom of my mask and take a deep breath of fresh air.
I had a mask-related graphic experience a few days ago in Renfrew. After dropping Sheila off at the Renfrew Victoria Hospital, I proceeded to Walmart to search for her Christmas gift.
The parking lot was larger than Pembroke’s and virtually full. I finally found a spot, eased in behind another car with my passenger side aligned with the side of a storage bin for storing the shopping carts after use. Easy to find the car after shopping, or so I thought.
Almost at the entrance to the store, I realized I had forgotten my mask. I turned back to retrieve it. Now there are seven bin returns and I checked all of them but no car. To be certain, I retraced my steps – no car. I started to panic – should I call the police or a doctor? I thought of the time I helped a man start his car. He had no recall at that moment of what to do. That made it worse. Eureka! I pressed the emergency button on the remote. Horns and lights blinked only 10 meters from me. You see, I had parked facing the opposite direction I thought I had.
Once in the store, larger and laid out differently than Pembroke, I headed for the electronics area. Going down one aisle, I was stopped by a lady, who said, “Hi Spence”. I said, I’m sorry but I don’t remember you.”
At this point, she pulled down her mask and gruffly said, “It’s Mary, dummy.” A little off balance, I replied, “Are you a friend of my sisters.” She glared at me as if I were an idiot but expecting a proper answer. “I’m from Westmeath,” as an excuse. Her last words were, “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone important.”
I finally found what I was looking for. It was a Wi-Fi compatible alarm clock with 3-inch-high digits. You see, both of us have been having trouble seeing the time on the modest one we currently have.
The day still had more to deal with . Returning to the hospital I wanted to take out burgers at DQ. I crossed to the other lane then realized BQ was roped off (closed for the winter). Now being in the wrong lane facing a stream of oncoming traffic, I had to carefully edge my way to next corner before exiting.
My afternoon was like a battery, drained of making quality decisions, but recharged fully after I picked Sheila up at the hospital.
