Tainted Meat

I was a little off my game yesterday, if you will. I went to visit my Grandfather in the hospital and I, obviously had a lot on my mind. 

He seems to be feeling, a least a bit better. He was out of bed, giving his characteristic hand gestures (Oops I don’t mean him singing, rather his “stupid asshole” “pusha” gesture) and I felt a bit better after witnessing that. But not knowing why he was admitted in the first place is still weighing heavily on my mind. They’re running tests.

Not knowing what he might have basically means he’s in isolation. Before people are permitted to go into visit a person who happens to be in “isolation” they need to go through a rather involved ritual of dressing-up in a whole costume of “protective” garb. Which simply consists of a “gown,” fabric mask and gloves. 

“Protective” for the visitor, sure, but I’d guess with relative certainty it benefits the patient, as well. You’d think a persons immune system would be hindered enough in fighting an infection serious enough to warrant being placed in “isolation?” And therefore would be susceptible to another infection some individual could potentially bring in? But what do I know?

As strange as it all might have felt–putting on a get-up that I was all too familiar with nearly twelve years ago, not 60 feet down a hallway–it wasn’t about me. Gramps is sick. His situation is all I should’ve been concerned about. And was.

So with such a substantial recall in effect from Maple Leaf here in Ontario over “Listeriosis,” I’m wondering if that’s why he’s sick. From eating tainted meat? And that’s what is so terribly depressing…