As the world experienced the dramatic effects of the COVID-19 virus in March, everyone wondered what it would mean for Grenada. Our small island nation has limited healthcare options, and most people leave the island for any kind of important medical procedure. Everyone was worried about what would happen if there was a significant outbreak of COVID on the island, given that our limited medical facilities could easily get overwhelmed. There is only one major hospital, and it had four ventilators. The Government was aggressive in implementing policies to protect the country, sourced a few more ventilators, and braced for the worst.
Michael had a medical procedure planned for March 28th in Sarasota, Florida. Concerned about the exploding spread of the virus in the US, Michael contacted his doctor to talk about whether or not to reschedule. The doctor advised him not to delay the procedure. We expected that the airport could close any day, so Michael left the island for the USA on March 20th.
Initially, I was planning to accompany Michael to the US as our trip was supposed to be only 10 days. As we got closer to our departure date, Michael asked me to stay behind because we expected we might get stranded in the US. He was really concerned about the virus and didn’t want me to be exposed. He also didn’t want to leave our dog or house for an extended time. I didn’t like the idea but knew it was the right decision.
Little did we know what an important decision it was.
The airport closed on March 24th, and the entire country went into a limited State of Emergency on Monday, March 25th. A curfew was in effect from 7PM to 5AM, most businesses were shut down, and busses stopped running.
People were still moving about too much, so on March 30th, Grenada went into deep lockdown. No one was allowed off their property – at any time – unless it was a medical emergency or to get food from a local vendor. All supermarkets were closed, and no movement between parishes was allowed.
You could not even visit your next-door neighbor.
Police were positioned throughout the island and stopped every car. They gave fines and or arrested anyone who did not have special permission to be on the road.
What did this mean for me? I was now responsible for ‘holding down the fort’.
This did not seem like a big deal at first. I didn’t expect much of a challenge maintaining our home.
I knew that Nadica and Sheila would not be able to come to work for some time. I drove to their houses the last day before the lockdown, gave them a few weeks’ pay in advance, and helped them stock up on groceries. I was now going to be the master of the house, fulfilling Michael’s, Nadica’s, and Sheila’s roles – as well as mine.
Sheila’s and Michael’s jobs were the most critical. Sheila manages everything outside the house, which includes our vegetable and flower gardens. They need to be watered every day, and the rainy season had not started as expected. It was blistering hot with no cloud cover and we hadn’t had any rain for months.
I began watering for 2 hours every day.
Michael was getting serious about growing orchids and had just received 1,000 baby orchids. I was now responsible for keeping them alive and hopefully thriving. Orchids are temperamental plants, and I got a crash course in taking care of them based on variety, size, and where they were placed in our orchid houses. My primary goal was to have everything still be alive when Michael and Sheila returned.
These are SOME of the orchids I’m babysitting. Michael doesn’t do anything halfway!
Nadica manages everything inside the house. Rigorous cleaning could take more of a back seat but living mostly outdoors in the tropics means a lot of cleaning and maintenance just to keep even. I did the minimum and hoped Nadica would forgive me when she returned.
I was still feeling confident when I started to feel sick. No COVID, thank goodness, but every few days, I’d get this crushing tiredness and would need to sleep most of the day. I would get up, water plants for an hour, feed the dog breakfast, and then sleep until about 4 PM, water for another hour, feed the dog dinner, eat something, and go to bed. This would go on for 3-4 days. I’d feel ok again for a few days, and the pattern would repeat. I was finally able to go to the doctor. However, after three visits, we still haven’t figured out definitively what is going on. We think it might be a thyroid issue. But we have not been able to resolve this overwhelming fatigue that continues to relentlessly persist even after tinkering with my medication.
I thought I could soldier on – and then the house began rebelling.
On March 23rd, we lost water for 2 days. I was freaking out about the plants, particularly the orchids. I did NOT want to tell Michael I just killed 1,000+ orchids. I had some bottled water that I used to keep them misted by using an old Shout spray bottle. The rest of the plants just suffered in the infernal heat. I had to crawl under the house to turn off our pump so it wouldn’t burn out while Michael remotely explained which valves to turn. He did a great job.
Then on March 25th, the electricity went out. Fortunately, we have a generator, but I was worried that if it ran for too long, we’d run out of fuel. The refrigerator also stopped working. I later figured out that it wasn’t connected to the generator and thankfully, it started right up when we got power back the next day.
On April 2nd, the pool pump stopped working. We have a saline pool, and if the pump doesn’t run for a few days, saline pools fill with algae, turning slimy and sickly green. I took pictures of the pump and control panel so Michael could help troubleshoot the issues.
Next, our shower drain plugged up (an easy fix of boiling water, baking soda, and vinegar). Then, all the overhead lights in the kitchen burned out – all of them – on the same day. I had to drag in the 10-foot ladder into the house to replace them, but I thought, no problem, I can do all this.
The second week in April, we started having electrical issues. I was getting shocked whenever I used the stove unless I had my shoes on. I was semi ok with that (especially since I’d have to obtain a police order to get an electrician to come), so I kept my shoes on. Then I began getting shocked in other places, especially if I tried to do anything with the pool filter, which I was still trying to get working.
Oh, and did I mention that our property was invaded by iguanas? I’m not sure if I would have known that, but Red Dog, the great hunter he is, brought his trophy catches into the house. Not sure what you know about iguanas, but they play dead. So, I had a large, 3 and a half foot long iguana lying in the living room. He looked dead, but I wasn’t sure, so I let him lie there for a few hours. I figured if he was alive, he’d hightail it out of the house.
A few hours later, he was still there. I grabbed a five-gallon bucket and a shovel and gingerly picked up the beast and slid him into the bucket. He was so large his tail was hanging out way of the pail. I carefully shook it around a bit to get him mostly contained, still not confident he was dead, and put him out by the street – outside the gate so Red Dog couldn’t get at him. I figured I’d check the next morning. If he was still there, I’d assume he was dead, put him in a garbage bag, and add him to the trash. I didn’t want to terrorize the garbage men with a huge iguana flopping out of the trash can.
I had to repeat this process two more times in the next few days. Luckily, I repeated the whole process of waiting to move them because one iguana was not dead and must have escaped. I’m sure I’d have jumped 10 feet if he’d moved when I was scooping him up.
Red Dog also managed to catch and kill at least one bird each day. He loves to leave them scattered around the house. I needed to be very vigilant walking around because one might be lying right outside my bedroom door as I opened it. REALLY?
A dove tried to build its nest in our living room ceiling fan. Red Dog barked incessantly for hours, and I think the bird just gave up – too much racket – and left to find a more peaceful place. I was pleased about that because otherwise, I would have needed to lug in the super tall ladder to try and dislodge the nest from our 16-foot tall ceiling.
I think God is reminding me how much I depend on Michael to manage the house.
Michael’s been a superstar walking me through all kinds of repairs and has gotten to the point of asking, ‘What went wrong today?’ each time he calls.
On April 8th, I started to see rats in the house. I put poison down and about eight rat traps, but the rats somehow avoided the traps and seemed to be multiplying by the minute. They made a stinky home in our dishwasher by ripping all the insulation off, making a nest, and then crapping in it. When I pulled the dishwasher out, I realized I needed to move it out of the house to clean it and sanitize the space left behind. Of course, they had eaten through a couple of hoses. Michael was able to walk me through disconnecting the machine, and I dragged it to the garage.
I went to the hardware store to get caps to seal the water pipes under the kitchen sink. Fortunately, the hardware store had opened for the first time – that day. I closed off the openings, but the rats had gnawed one piece that couldn’t be capped, so I did what every ingenious homeowner does – I sealed it with duct tape, which worked just fine.
I called the police to get an exception to have an electrician and exterminator come out just as the restrictions started to ease. They said workers could travel on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
I frantically started making calls.
Between April 22nd and April 27th every handyman we know arrived. The electrician came and fixed all the shorts in the wiring that was caused by the rats eating through the wires (three trips). The pool guy came and helped me get the pump working again so the pool wouldn’t turn green (two trips). The plumber came and replaced a few parts (3 trips). The exterminator came and put down industrial strength poison, and thankfully, I’ve never seen anything work so fast. The dishwasher repairman came and we decided he would fix the machine and sell it for us because we have not been able to keep varmints from eating through the hoses looking for water (2 trips).
Of course, at least one rat died somewhere under our cabinets, stinking up the kitchen – again. Red Dog’s great nose was able to isolate the location, and our fantastic contractor came out the next Monday, removed a kickboard, and pulled out a decaying 10-inch rat. It was longer than our shovel was wide. YUCK. He also closed a couple of holes the rats had chewed into our cabinets. [No pictures on purpose – too gross!]
All throughout this time, we’d had 25 to 30 mile an hour winds every day. One day, I walked into our ‘sheltered’ courtyard to water the orchids only to find our 14-foot palm tree had been blown over – crushing a few houseplants.
This also made hanging out and retrieving clothes off the clothesline a distinct challenge. One day, I went out to get four king size sheets off the lines. They had twisted themselves so many times around the lines that they looked like a mummy. It took me 15 minutes to unravel them and get them off – no exaggeration.
I just laughed and thought, ‘Are you kidding me?’
After everything that had happened in the last month, I was afraid to ask, “What else could go wrong?” and prayed the house rebellion was over.