COVID check in

We've been self-isolating for a little over 50 days. We've had all sorts of changes, large and small. In that time, the kiddo was furloughed with pay. My husband was furloughed one day a week, without pay, so a net 20% paycut. His company was very fair and the furloughs are across the company. Everyone reduced one day a week. My company has to make up an enormous budget shortfall, so they have stopped funding our retirement accounts, and we will have no salary increases in the coming year. There will be furloughs and layoffs, but who and how are not yet decided.

We've had a run of mostly bad weather, lots and lots of rain. It's made it tough to get out for a walk, or to play with the dog, or for my husband to garden. Each time we get a day of sunshine, we are outside, getting as much of it as we can. It's a beautiful spring here, with very vivid colors and an abundance of life. Without human interference, nature seems to be clawing back some of its own.

I've been out a few times. I've been to the pharmacy twice to pick up meds for my husband. I've been to the office twice to pick up hardware and turn on computers that people needed access to. It was eery to be in a large office building and see almost no one. I saw the guard at the door, when I presented my ID. And I saw two people in the distance in the building. That's all, in a place where I usually see a few hundred people a day. On the plus side, I was able to get street parking less than a half block from the door. And I didn't have to pay for it.

I took a mattress and a few grocery items to the kiddo. His roommate just moved in from Pittsburgh. She's got a job in Baltimore, starting this week. They are best friends, so it was an easy transition, and I'm happy he won't be quarantined alone anymore.

We live a block from our vet, so Daisy has also had some medical appointments. She developed a skin infection and she's needed meds and medicated baths. So she's getting walked to the vet once a week. We call when we get to the parking lot. A masked attendant comes out and gets her. They call when they are done, we pay over the phone, and then the masked attendant brings her back out and hands us her leash. they give me a plastic bag with her paper work and meds inside.

We get food delivered from instacart. we can pick which store and mostly have been getting stuff from Aldi. I may try Sprouts next time since I'd like some ingredients Aldi doesn't carry. We're trying to minimize orders, so once every 2-3 weeks now for groceries. We also order out 1 day a week and have a meal delivered from a local restaurant. We'd like our local places to stay in business and we know the delivery folks need the work. I stocked up on dog food when we first started staying home, but I'm almost out so I will have to mailorder that from Chewy.

Socially, I think I'm busier than before. I used to try and limit nights out to 2 or so a week. Now that everything is virtual, I'm on zoom sessions 4 or 5 times a week. I'm in a discussion group on Lojong training 1 night a week. Calls with friends, virtual movie nights and virtual beer clubs. I do morning meditation with a virtual sangha. Virtual happy hours, virtual meet ups for "drinks". It's not the same as seeing people in person, and I miss presence and touch very much. But it is better than nothing and it hits some of my need for interaction.

Work is problematic. It turns out what I like most in my job is the people interaction. Zoom meetings are not the same and are frankly exhausting. It's harder to manage a team when we are all remote. We're being asked to do more, with less and for less and that's frustrating. Because everyone is working at home, the  days are stretched, with emails coming in later and later, and more on weekends.

It sounds like I hate the current state of things, but oddly I don't. By and large this has been a really good thing for me. I've had time to read and reflect. Time to stop and smell the flowers. Time to reconnect with my husband, with old friends, with family. I've learned new skills. Taken up yoga. Dyd my hair purple. Rededicated to my meditation practice. Gotten the first glimmerings of what comes next.

It's been different. It's been challenging. But that's not bad.

fear in the age of COVID

I think just about everyone has some level of fear around the virus. We just don't all fear the same things and we don't all express fear the same way. But we fear something.

I have been surprised about my own reactions. I am not a brave person. But I find I am not afraid I will catch the virus. I'm not afraid I will get sick and die. I very oddly feel like I'm just not destined for it. But I am afraid those near and dear to me might. and I worry very much that I might carry the virus and spread it to others, without ever having a symptom. I social distance. I wear gloves and a mask at the grocery store. I wash my hands obsessively. At night, my dreaming brain kicks into overdrive, where one loved one or another, or all of them, gets sick and dies. It's nearly always my fault. Before COVID, I rarely dreamed, or not ones I remembered.

There is guilt here as well. In my large house with a full freezer and pantry, and a yard to enjoy. In a job that easily shifted to remote work, with no interruption in pay or insurance. My husband already telecommuted full time. We have the luxury of face masks, delivery services, decent internet. We've got computers and backup computers. We have healthcare, 30 days of prescriptions. I pass the crowded bus stops, safe in my car. I try to remember to be grateful. It could easily be reversed. There are no guarantees in life. You can be hardworking, prepared, educated, be kind and decent and do all the right things, and still lose it all. None of it is a shield. 

At the heart of fear is this -- no one wants to lose what they hold dear. Even the hardest heart grasps at something. It's another connection we have with each other. It's okay to be afraid, to sit with it and get to know it, and recognize it in others, and let others see our own. We can share our fears, and share our strengths. Hold hands against the dark.

reading my way thru the apocalypse

I am a big reader. I read my way through my childhood. Read my way through adolescence. Read my way through pregnancy. Kept reading all through my life, although not as much in the last few years. But now, faced with social distancing and a global pandemic, I am reading my way through that.

Recently, I discovered our beloved Enoch Pratt Free Library has e-books available. It's free, it's relatively easy to use the system to find and check out books, and they have a partnership with Amazon to deliver in KINDLE format for reading online. This is perfect for me, right now. While I love paper books and always will, I read much too quickly to have enough unread material on hand.

Thus far, I have been home about two weeks. I have read books 11-20 of the J.D.Robb In Death series. I read Laura Lippman's Lady in the Lake. I read a handmaid's tale knock-off called Vox. I've read the 26th book in the Stephanie Plum series. And I read the last of the Broken Earth books. This is in addition to the 50 to 70 hours a week I work, and the hours spent on real life with real people, and household and pet care stuff.

You will notice that I don't really care about "quality" of what I read. I want right now to have diversion, entertainment, something a little engaging and thought provoking, but not "rock my world" level fiction. I'm not looking for change, or deep emotional connection right now. Comfort is the name of the game.

What are you reading? Why?

Life in the time of COVID

It's been a very long time since I blogged. And by long time, I think over a year. We're going through some tough times and writing helps me figure stuff out.

So our current situation is this. My husband works at home and has for 15 years or so. I normally am in my office from 7am - 4:00pm, Monday through Friday. I've been home for about 10 days, working remotely due to the COVID 19 pandemic. Our son lives across town. He's a full time college student whose classes have gone all online for the same reason. He works part time for a local TV news station, and as of now, still goes in to work every weekend.

We're very fortunate and painfully aware of our privilege. We've got a house, a yard, a little money in the bank. We can handle our son's expenses as long as both my husband and I work. We've got good health insurance, and the kiddo can stay on our insurance until December.  We stocked up on food for us, and we took the kiddo on a huge grocery/supply run at the very start of this.

We've got location on our side as well. We're in Baltimore City. So we've got delivery options for meals, groceries, even pharmacy and booze. We're 5 miles from one of the best hospitals in the world and close to another 4 or 5. We've even got an Urgent Care two blocks from the house.

So everything is peachy and all we have to do is hunker down and ride it out.

Except - my husband has severe asthma and is in a high risk category. My father and his girl friend are 80. My mother in law is 94. We've got a dog that almost never stops barking. Our son can't drive due to a vision problem, and still has to get to work, even as public transportation is shutting down. My mom is in Alzheimer's hospice and the state has prohibited visitors.

Like everyone, we are testing all our self-care and coping skills. Virtual beer club sessions, meditation by zoom, lots of walks wherever we can find no people. I'm baking up a storm. My husband is gardening, writing, reading. I'm reading, chatting online, playing around on FB way too much, watching cooking shows. We see a lot of movies and binge TV shows.

We're coping and we're even having some fun. But we're also scared, nervous, and all too aware that life has no guarantees.

fade to black

It's been a long time, and it is a mark of how unsettled I am, that I am turning to this blog to puzzle out what I am feeling. A few months ago my mother had a fall. She was hospitalized briefly while doctors tried to figure out why she was falling. Then she went home, and was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Then she fell again, and broke her hip. She had a hip replacement, and less than 24 hours later, a stroke. She was partially paralyzed and was sent to a rehabilitation facility to recover.  

Mom went home home from rehab. Dad put in a stairlift, got a wheelchair and an aide to come a few hours a week. We settled into a new reality. Dad dressed mom, made her meals, cleaned her. I occasionally went to babysit mom so he could go work. It was mentally exhausting, but I was doing my part. Then mom became worse. Aggressive. Violent. 911 calls. Paramedic visits. A couple of ER visits to try and get her calmed down. All her violence was directed at Dad. Mom is now in a psychiatric geriatric facility while they work out her medication. Then she will transfer to an Alzheimer's assisted living facility where she will live out her days.

It's been a confusing and difficult time. I have been focusing on the more practical realities -- insurance, healthcare, schedules. I've spent way too much time reading medical articles about stroke and about Alzheimer's. I've pored over information about Medicare and VA benefits. I've had 100s of phone calls from assisted living facilities who are sure they are a good fit for our family.

What I haven't done, or done well, is deal with the emotional upheaval. While  I love my mother, I don't like her. I haven't felt kinship or fondness or respect or any of the countless things other people seem to feel for their moms. I am fairly sure that mom has been mentally ill my entire life. She clearly suffered from depression, and was plagued by numerous health issues both real and imagined. My job was to be her companion, servant, prop. And I was supposed to make her happy. It wasn't all bleak; when mom was happy, which happened rarely, we had good times. But I always wished for a real relationship with her.

Now that isn't going to happen. I knew that before, but now the possibility is gone. And I apparently was holding onto that possibility somewhere in the background of my mind. Mom isn't mom. She is a sad old lady who has no idea how old she is, where she is, what she had for breakfast. Large chunks of her life are gone, replaced by delusions that are more real to her.

I am left with sadness, and with pity. In some ways we get along better now. I can treat her like I would treat any elderly stranger, with kindness and as much patience as I have. This person is not my mom and I am not her daughter.