I’m so very sorry to hear that you’ve caught this awful virus. I can’t help but feel slightly alarmed that your doctor won’t even see you. What kind of world are we in right now? I just stared at the computer screen for a good five minutes after receiving your email. Please, please take care of yourself. I’m going to make you a chicken noodle soup and leave it in your lobby. I’ll ask my mother to ask Clancy to pick up for you and set it in front of your door. The recipe is from my grandmother. She always swore it cured all illnesses. I can tell you that it did not cure Mom’s cancer. That had to be left to chemo, sadly.
Anyway, I’ll go now so that I can run out to the grocery store. I need things anyway, so don’t worry that I’m doing it just for you. That said, even if I didn’t need things, I would still go.
I’ll send you another email when I’ve sent the soup over.