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Voices ᐋ ᐄᔮᔨᐧᒫᓂᐧᐃᒡ

Daze of confusion

BY Sonny Orr Aug 17, 2022

I arise from my bed, the acid reflux taking its toll on my weary abdomen as the continuous burping turns into a torrential spewing session. I recover, weakened by this second assault to my body, and slowly recover my senses. It must be that gastro that’s going around, I say to myself. And sure enough, gastro is the main suspect as many others are complaining about this new-yet-old medical problem on social media. 

I decide to complain as well, and several helpful hints are echoed from here and there. Not too many strikes, I guess I can’t compete with the Kardashians or some other reality show host with nothing better to do than show us what they do on a regular basis.

My show would start with the usual cock-a-doodle-doos as the first light of day emerges. Now was that a rooster that crowed or was it a seagull, raven, crow or forlorn zombie? Who knows, the morning is a wonderous time, like hey, what happened to the dogs that abounded last year? 

A lonely dog, within ear range, howled and yapped, as if to say, I’m still here! So glad that there’s good dog control in this community. Back in the day, the first person employed right after the chief was the dog control officer. Dogs played an important role and were a natural resource, but a wild one at that. Dogs weren’t just dogs back then.

My coffee awaits me in my reality show, and life kicks back in very slowly. As I sip the java, I pretend I can taste and savour it, but I can’t, as Covid has disabled my sensory system, my nose and tongue. I find out after doing my test for the umpteenth time, I get the double line. For some reason, it’s a sigh of relief as I was the last man standing, literally. 

It used to be good to have a negative result but keeping up with the masking and the washing has gone out the window and we bathe in a microscopical ether issued from others. I was happy to learn that it was a flu-like problem but keeping it under the hood doesn’t seem to matter anymore. I guess its herd immunization time!

As far as getting sick, I found that I couldn’t stay awake long enough to get anything done. Being drowsy in the middle of the day all day doesn’t seem right, but it does feel luxurious. No real reason to move around and do anything productive; a small break for the old worn-out body maybe?

I’m just halfway through my isolation test. Can I last that long, or will I go out and spread the good microbe news around? There is no end to what can be thought of but trying to focus is extremely difficult to do. Do I have the attention span of fruit fly or is it more like elephant memories that take a lifetime to re-enact?

Who knows? Not even the robot doctor on 811, whose musical choice was designed to put you to sleep and calm your nerves but only exacerbates them. Now I just self-medicate, meditate and memorize these moments as the songs of my youth drone on. At least the online service is stuck in the 1970s.

So, I wait for a voice to respond as the music drones on and on and on… zzz… zzz…

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Sonny Orr is Cree from Chisasibi, and has been a columnist for the Nation for over 20 years. He regularly pens Rez Notes from the cozy social club in Whapmagoostui where he resides.