Last Thursday, Jan. 29, after supper Jeannie noticed that I had a fever and was not too “bright” (even worse than normal.) When I tried to stand up, I realized that my balance had deteriorated quite quickly too. My son soon arrived and I was escorted to the Shawville Hospital by truck, much faster than an ambulance could have come for me.
You know you’re in the country when you are wheeled into emergency through the ambulance doors and know the nurses and doctors who meet you.
Within seconds, I was lying in a bed close to the . . .
nurse’s station, blood tested and given antibiotics. Even though it was after supper and a lot of hospital staff had gone home, initial blood test results came back and showed that my white cell blood count was three times normal. This indicated that my internal system was producing extra white cells to fight the infection. As soon as life saving measures were administered, I was given a COVID-19 test and moved to an isolation room until my test results came back negative.
The next night, 6:30 p.m. on Friday, I was booked to host a Zoom entertainment evening, but knew that I probably couldn’t do that from emerg. My son Scott graciously volunteered to host the Zoom music evening; and by re-scheduling another zoom call and with some help and assurance from another local country girl, Haley Campbell from the West Quebecer’s, the music event went off without a hitch.
When an employee gets hurt in the middle of milking and has to leave, and two high-school students show up to help within minutes, you might be in the country. When the mayor of the municipality finds out that you are in the hospital and calls immediately to check, you might be from the country. When some school boys sneak a groundhog into school just to add a little excitement in the halls, you might be in the country. Yes, it did add excitement for the day and the teachers couldn’t set a bad example of animal rights, by just whacking the groundhog with a broom but instead had to organize a posse of students not afraid of being attacked by the groundhog to usher the confused critter to an outside entrance.
When a group of boys think that they are being picked on by the teacher and they try to get even by waiting around after school and the teacher has to use the two-holer before walking home for supper. The boys flipped the hasp closed on the door of the outhouse and dropped a small branch from a Manitoba maple through the latch on the outhouse, locking her in, you might be in the country.
When you are moved to another room in the ICU and your neighbour is a friend from 70 kilometers away that you have known for 60 years, you might be from the country.
When your regular doctor who is on holidays in a city that is hours away calls to check on you, you might live in the country.
When a group of coyotes or wolves chase some of your farm animals out, breaking down barriers and they begin wandering on the highway at ten o’clock at night and some driver passing by stops to tell you and waits until more farm help arrives to get the animals safely back to their pen, you might live in the country.
When people who come from different backgrounds, have different religious beliefs, vote for different parties, and cheer for different hockey teams, can all sit happily together drinking coffee or beer, you might be from the country.
When you are allowed to write your weekly column for the paper from your room in the ICU of the hospital, you might be from the country.
When people ask “Why do you live in a remote place with nothing to do?” They might not be from the country!
Chris Judd is a farmer in Clarendon on land that has been in his family for generations.
gladcrest@gmail.com
