Cold Hands, Warm Heart, Frozen Brain Cells

If you’re currently living in Canada, I’m going to state the obvious – it’s cold. It’s that bone chilling, layer wearing, take your breath away cold and it’s what everyone is talking about. Even my Volkswagen Tiguan talks about it every morning.

I attended a meeting yesterday with people from all over North America. The New Yorker informed us it was 0ºC there. The Maritimer discussed their -6ºC. The guy from Cali stated the disappointing rain they’re having; all the while we’re experiencing -40ºC. I tried my best to say, hey guys, listen to this, but sometimes getting a word in during a Zoom call is as difficult as getting out of bed during this cold weather.

These temperatures fire up the sounds of the kettle, running bath water and flames in the fireplace, but most commonly, the sounds of moaning. 

The furnace, pipes and my bed moan in the morning. Residents, co-workers and myself moan throughout the day and the walls and floor boards moan at night. Let me be clear, these are not the kind of moans we heard in Bridgerton. 

Growing up I could never understand why we couldn’t just crank the furnace to as high as we wanted to decrease these moans. Now that I have my own space, I get it. Although, just because I get it, doesn’t mean I like it.

The one thing I do like about the cold is you can use it as an excuse for anything:

• I slept in because it’s so cold 
• My focus is off  because it’s so cold 
• I won’t be able to exercise because it’s so cold 
• I didn’t get groceries because well, you get the point

Also, this post may not be any good because it’s so cold. 

No matter the temperature outside, my temperature fluctuates throughout the day…

In What’s my Age again, I forgot a conversation. Today, I forgot protocol. 

It’s now been almost a year of filling out a daily fit for work screening form prior to beginning the work day.  Every morning we head to the lobby, fill out a paper form and have our temperature checked. It’s like 50 First Dates without Adam Sandler’s humour.

This week, our organization officially switched to a digital form that can be completed at home.  On Monday I lounged on my couch with coffee in my hand, blanket on my lap and vacation on my mind while I filled out the form. (If the app could hear my breathing going up the stairs, it would say I’m not fit for anything). Click, click, click and the questionnaire informed me it was time to get out of my pyjamas. 

The process is a breeze, except for perhaps the older population of employees who have difficulty with the swipe card access let alone an app.

That afternoon I was having lunch with the Occupational and Physical Therapists.  I asked if we need to show our results from the fit to work screen to anyone. The OT replied, “well yeah, same as always. Show it at the front door before you have your temperature checked.”

I nonchalantly replied, “oh of course. Right. That makes sense.”

She then looked up from her phone as soon as she realized I had not done that. 

I raced to the screening table and asked the pandemic support worker to take my temperature. She said, “I wondered where you were today, but I see you hadn’t wondered where I was.”

My temperature was average, but inside I was burning up like a Jonas Brothers’ song.

Remember: sweaters, slippers, toques, mitts and panic keep us warm during these cold days.