Self Quarantine Day 16 - Threshold

Today's news is that the number of deaths from the Coronavirus here in the United States have exceeded the number of people who died in the 9/11 attacks:  more that 3400.  That threshold marks a turning point for me in terms of news consumption.  I have to cut back.  I'm not sure what is to be gained from learning more each day.  It's so tempting to get sucked into reading, listening, watching for hours on end, but for right now, we know what's coming.  There won't be any real breaking news.  Just more and bigger numbers and statistics.  For me, no more reading during breaks from sleep.  No more listening to NPR in the morning.  It's hard to break the latter habit because it is so automatic for me to start my day with the soothing voices of Morning Edition.  But it's only sets an unfortunate tone for the day.  I'm not so naive as to think that I won't read any news.  But I need less.  Music.  More music.  Bob Marley and his three little birds.  Every little thing gonna be alright . . .

This was a big day in other ways, too.  I went on an carefully choreographed adventure to the garden center.  I was starting to get so obsessed with the daily growth of my pet scallion that I decided it was necessary to branch out.  I have never been particularly focused on plants, but lately I have reminded myself of both my mother and Maude:  "I like to watch things grow."  So to celebrate the first day of the Stay-At-Home order, I left the house.  Apparently the garden center counts as essential as they are an agricultural business, so they get to keep operating.  It was tense to be near others even though I was properly far enough.  It had that feeling of expecting to be robbed.  Another customer smiled at me from 10 feet away, and I felt a snarl cross my face before I forced a return smile.

I walked outside through the rows of plants. wearing rubber gloves, pulling a cart, patiently waiting for other people to finish picking out their plants before I selected what I wanted.  "Select" might not be the right word. as the process was similar to my binge at Trader Joe's two weeks ago.  I grabbed a bunch of herbs, a couple of tomato plants, and some flowers.  Then I scurried away toward the checkout, where I stepped away from my cart while the clerk scanned my pots.  I pushed my credit card toward the clerk across a counter and went on my way.  I have no idea how much I spent; it was worth it.

I also stopped at S's house to pick up some groceries he had bought for me and to visit at a distance with my 98-year-old friend who continues to stubbornly go to the store despite my admonitions.  When I got home during Noon Zoom, another friend, R, came by to say hi.  Another conversation at a distance.  It is so nice to see the people I love, but in some ways, it emphasizes the distance.  It feels achy not to hug them. 

Self Quarantine Day 15 - Orders

I remember the last time someone touched me.  It was in Giant on Thursday, March 12.  I was pushing my shopping cart around Giant, dodging people while frantically tossing products into my cart in anticipation of holing up.  "Excuse me," I said to an older woman who was blocking my path.  She didn't move.  I repeated myself.  She startled and then turned around and placed her hand on mine.  I recoiled as she patted me and apologized for not hearing me.

I could use a hug.

At the beginning of today, only 2 of 14 students had made any progress on their outlines.  I was feeling hopeless, worried I was going to lose track of them, but they all showed up for their conferences having tried to prepare a little bit.  Many of them are writing about Coronavirus.  We talked about this chart.  It made me sort of sick when I read the stark numbers of people expected to die.

My phone buzzed shrilly to tell me that Virginia's stay-at-home order came today.  

Self Quarantine Day 14 - Counting and Crying

I count my days.  I count them here on this blog.  I count them in a journal of morning pages that I'm keeping.  I count them on my optimistic daily schedule that I write and share each my friend B each day.  I count them on a food log on my kitchen counter that I keep with the vague idea that I may start eating fewer calories if I write them down.  I'm not sure why the number of days is so important because I don't anticipate breaking my quarantine any time soon, but I guess day 14 is particularly meaningful because I have been separated from the world for the length of the incubation period and haven't developed Coronavirus.  I could safely go visit my parents at this point if they needed me.

Last night before bed, I checked idly to see when I could get food delivered to me via Peapod, and all of the slots were taken for the next two weeks.  There were no times listed beyond that.  So when I woke up at 2:30 am, the first thing on my mind was to try to capture one of the slots that had just opened up at midnight.  Success!  I am officially slated to get groceries on Saturday, April 11.  Fortunately, I have until April 10 to make changes to my cart.  I browsed "the aisles" sleepily with my head on the pillow.  It seemed slightly better than waking up in the middle of the night to read about people dying or losing their businesses or their minds, which is what I have been doing.  Reading, I mean.  Not mind losing.  Though maybe some of that, too.

Today I went for a drive to CVS.  Put the top down on the yellow bug in the warm weather.  Put on my ridiculous yellow flowered sunglasses.  Put on some music.  And then started to cry.  Tears falling out of the flowers.  I'm not sure why that little drive was the breaking point, but it was.  The car moved so quickly; I hadn't driven in many days.  And when I pulled up in the drive thru of the CVS, I didn't even laugh when I realized I was still wearing the glasses while I talked to the employee.  It was stressful to be there, choreographing every move to be careful not to touch anything.  She was about four and a half feet away from me, through the open window, talking and handing me things.  When she had completed the transaction, she tried to hand me a clipboard, a clipboard, with a pen for me to sign.  I just stared at it.

"You want me to touch that?:
She nodded apologetically.
"Here?  At the drive thru of CVS?
"Yes," she said."
"Are you serious?"
The pharmacist behind her nodded, too.  Then the pharmacist offered, "We can sign it for you if you want."
I nodded and doused my hands, the bag, the credit cards with Purell before driving off.  I resumed crying.  I thought about going somewhere to park and walk, but I couldn't think of anywhere I wanted to be that I was allowed to be.  So I went home and walked there and tried to distract myself by listening to old David Sedaris and found a dandelion and blew on it and made a wish.

--

This is a beautiful article about life in quarantine.

--

Self-Quarantine Day 13 - One Nail Per Day

Someone I love cried on a Zoom call today.  I haven't seen many people upset, and it was shocking but also reassuring. News was coming at breakneck speed for a week or so.  Then we were getting used to the idea of the magnitude of a changed world; we were stunned.  The whole world shut down, and that was a lot to take in.  But the surprise is starting to wear off, the need to follow the latest news.  The days ahead are going to be filled with numbers, dreary numbers.

I haven't cried yet, not really.  Not sure when that's coming.
--

After that horrible article that likened cleaning off grocery items to cleaning off glitter, I was happy to come up on this sane article about how the risk of getting Coronavirus from delivery is low.  That's reassuring at least.

--

As I type this, Coronavirus is still underlined with a red squiggle by the word processor, as though it is spelled wrong.  This pandemic hasn't even sunk in long enough to auto correct.

--

FaceTiming with my friend S, she showed me her dog.  I mused, "How are people going to cut their pets' nails now?"

"We've decided on one per day."

"One foot?"

"One nail."

Seems like a good way to go about it.  We've got time.  I'll add that in to the ever growing routine.  I'm sure Calliope Kiwi is going to love that.  Now I just need a system for keeping track of which nails I've done.  I've got my eye on those dew claws for a start.

--

Zoom happy hour with H, J, and L.  3 ciders in one hour and a half call.  It has been a year since I've had that much alcohol at once.  It sent me to bed at 8pm

Self-Quarantine Day 12 - Formal Friday

Here's a horrifying article.  When we get items delivered to us or bring groceries into the house, we're supposed to pretend that they're covered in glitter.  That's how thorough we are supposed to be.  I can't even.  I was a lot happier before I knew that.  Have you ever tried to clean up glitter? It's impossible.  It distributes itself all around your whole house, little specks of it.  Is that what we're dealing with?  Coronaglitter?

"Maybe I'll go for a drive today," I mused early in the day.  Made me feel about 40 years older just to say it.  It really was a beautiful day, though.  I went for a short bike ride and a long walk.  I had all of the windows open and let the fresh air in.  On my walk, I passed an empty elementary school with an herb garden out front.  I look forward to stealing from it.  I don't think they'll mind, though I've been told that counts as looting. 

The big event today was that I got dressed up for Formal Friday, which my friend B has decreed in her family.  I thought I'd join in, so I took a shower.  Then I put on earrings and pearls and a fancy dress.  I even wore lip gloss.  No shoes.  I have limits.  Noon Zoom was very impressed.

Red pepper and carrot soup with couscous and harissa for dinner tonight.  Yum!

Self-Quarantine Day 11 - Loaner Dog, Banana Bread, a Scallion

Zoom at Noon is now a regular feature with my family.  We meet up at noon and chat as though it's a regular holiday, exchanging granular details of our daily lives.  Today, two of my siblings were going shopping.  Shopping! They may as well have told me they were going to visit the Taj Mahal.  Unimaginable adventure at this point.  I can't wait to hear the update on that tomorrow.

I made some banana berry bread.  I had been rotting these bananas up good since my last trip to the grocery store--Trader Joe's on Friday the 13th.  I actually bought them with the purpose of rotting them.  How much has changed since I first had that thought.  I wish I had bought even more.

I bought a harness and a leash of my own so that I can take my neighbor's dog for a walk.  Seems ridiculous to have to do that, but these are ridiculous times.  I had to have my neighbor help me adjust the harness the first time, but now Cora--or Miss Corabel--and I are buddies.  She's a good girl.  She doesn't pull or bark, just ambles along with me. Even if she stops to smell something, she's happy to pick up the pace when reminded to do so.  A good companion.  I look forward to more time together.

I read somewhere that if I put a scallion root in water, it will grow.  It's true!  When I started this one, there was only the white part.  I'll have to report this at family Zoom.

Self Quarantine Day 10 - Cats and Hats Party!

On Day 10 (yesterday), I attended a Quarantine Birthday Party with Cats and Hats for M's birthday via Zoom.  Two weeks ago, I couldn't have told you what Zoom was, and now it is part of my daily life.  We showed off our hats and our cats and sang and watched M eat her lamington.

Wednesdays are busy for me.  Yesterday I had two classes.  I'm starting to get accustomed to using Zoom for classes.  I'm sure I have a lot to learn.  I should start lurking in some of these forums to learn new tricks about how other professors are proceeding.  For now, it seems to be working pretty well to start out with some lecture and balance some class discussion as a group with some conversation in breakout rooms with me visiting.  I'm actually looking forward to next week when I will meet with students in small groups to talk about their outlines for their essays.

My ear continues to hurt.  I know it is allergies, but my usual tricks of Claritin, Sudafed, and nasal spray aren't working.  After having an ear infection several years ago and being in so much pain in the emergency room, I'm nervous that will happen again.  I definitely don't want to go to the hospital.

Self Quarantine Day 9 - Happy Birthday to S

I made chocolate chip cookies today and brought them to S for his birthday.  I didn't have any candles, and anyway, I wouldn't really have been able to light them and then hand it to him directly.  So we stood on the deck and visited a little, many feet apart, and I gave him an air hug.  I waved at Rosy the cat through the window. 

I have a little dry cough that accompanies my allergies, but while I'm out walking, I try to swallow it so that no one will hear it and look askance at me.  The allergies cause me to sleep a lot.  I'm afraid of slipping out of routine.  I want to be sure to keep a strict schedule and don't get into the habit of lounging about. 

Trump has decided that this will all be over in a few weeks--by Easter.  Uh huh.

Many teachers are worried about teaching online and parents are worried about teaching their kids.  I feel sorry for all the stress.  I posted this on Facebook:  Teachers and parents-who-just-became-teachers: I wish I could give you each a homemade cookie right now and tell you that this new learning paradigm will all be okay. Really, it will. Your kids will learn some things. They won't learn others. At some point--the good Lord willing and the creek don't rise (any further)--they will go back to a sort of normal educational environment. As a teacher (and a sometimes online teacher), I can tell you, that above all, you should be kind to yourself. You'll *never* get it just right. Or, if you do figure out a way to do it right, please let me know. I'm 20+ years in, and most days, I'm still winging it. Breathe.

Self-Quarantine Day 8 - Fungus

I actually called the doctor's office today to get a a prescription to treat athlete's foot.  Because that is clearly the most important thing that my doctor is dealing with right now.  Mundane health complaints don't subside just because there's a pandemic, but it does seem preposterous to distract me doc from more important concerns now.

The days are getting more structured.  Wrote in the morning.  Worked out.  Family Zoom at Noon.  Worked all day.  My students were very excited about pursuing the Coronavirus topic, which is rewarding.

Self Quarantine Day 7 - Just a Sunday

I made a schedule to start the day.  I've gotten in the habit of doing so.  And I stuck to it.  Got a lot of work done.  Felt good, except for the hideous news in the background.  It really felt a lot like a regular Sunday.  I'm trying to do a better job of not overwhelming myself with news.  I'm failing a lot of the time.  It's hard to look away.

Family Zoom at noon has become a tradition.  It's nice to touch base and see everyone.  Lots of laughter.

Rain is coming tomorrow.  That is bound to be tough.

Self Quarantine - Day 6 - My New Parlor

Yesterday . . .

I went back to sleep after feeding Calliope and woke to the sound of her puking.  Then puking again.  And as I stumbled around in the dark, trying to find it, I muttered, "Where is the---Fuck!"  I found it with my bare feet.  And that made me retch.  And as I ran to the bathroom, I realized the sickness was no longer mere disgust.  It was horror.  Sick of all of this.  At the thought of what's to come.  I am usually afraid of vomiting, but this time I just tried to rid it all, all the ugliness of it.

It didn't work.

So I got up and vacuumed every bit of my apartment, of course.  Because that's the obvious reaction to the aforementioned situation.  Clean, clean everything.  Control every speck and corner of my limited space.  I think I spent a minute per square foot of the place, slowly moving the head of the vacuum back and forth.

Usually I like cleaning about as much as I like vomiting.  This pandemic has very strange side effects.

It was a big, social day.  Lynne and I met in a park nearby.  We sat far apart, me on a picnic table and her on a park bench many feet away.  Lynne brought me beautiful, tasty homemade bread.  Jennifer and I met in the same park.  She brought me a sandwich.  I read up on food and decided that after I heated things up, it was fine to eat.  Jennifer and I even took a socially distant walk in which we wandered on opposite sides of the street.

We sat across from each other, many feet apart, and chatted.  The park was green and pretty.  Saying hello and goodbye felt weird, but most of the rest of the visit was just fine.  Except for the bizarre topic of conversation. My new parlor.  I hope to see many more of my people here in my new parlor.

school supplies

Today, while cleaning up my house, I put away my work backpack, including my ID and my dry erase markers.  I won't be needing those for awhile.  

roundup of recent links

• totwaffles
• "Coronavirus Could Overwhelm US Without Urgent Action"
• March Sadness:  The Self-Quarantined Bracket

Self Quarantine: Day 5 - (re)writing curriculum

I'm usually too tired to write an update at night.  But then the next morning it seems hard to remember the highlights of the previous day.  I can't believe they are already running together.

I spent a lot of time yesterday writing curriculum for my students.  I'm shifting a scaffolded argument essay to the topic of COVID-19 government restrictions because they requested the change.  I'm proud of having put it all together.  It was so much less stressful to research purposefully and with the goal of educating my students.  Even though there was a lot of furious clicking and skimming, I didn't feel as alarmed as I have when I'm just doing furious clicking and skimming for myself.

Nice walk-and-talk with Beth in the evening.  I discovered another park nearby.  There was an exercise class taking place in the tennis court, and the participants were all appropriately distanced as they jumped and pushed up and lifted.  I passed a triangle of women chatting in the neighborhood.  They stood in the middle of the street about ten feet apart, enjoying the night air.  They looked kind of ridiculous as they stood awkwardly and raised their voices slightly so that they could followed the rules.  I complimented them on their rule-following.  I found it amusing that I needed to excuse myself as I walked by.  Ordinarily, I would say that if I was trying to get around someone in a crowd.  In this circumstance, I was coming as close as 6 feet, which seemed a bit of a violation of personal space.

S brought me some groceries, which I traded him for part of my dinner:  sheet pan sausages with Brussels sprouts, potatoes, mustard/honey/crushed almonds sauce.

I have a bad habit of reading the news when I awake at 2am and 4am and 6am.  I don't know what I imagine is going to happen if I tune out.  Everything.  Nothing.  Gotta start putting my phone in the other room while I sleep.

Self-Quarantine Day 4 - cherry blossoms

Today I woke up early and started writing. Then I started researching for my students who want to write about Coronavirus. I started feeling a tad revved up, so I signed up for some online yoga classes and did a couple of short videos. I felt so much better afterwards.

Then I went to the cherry blossoms. I go every year. I love seeing the fluffy clouds of delicate pink flowering trees gracefully fringing the Tidal Basin.  It feels magical.

I guess I have been going since I moved here. Maybe my first time was 1997? Hard to believe that it has been over 20 years. I have strong memories of many of my visits. Usually, I recall the people I go with.
One year I went with my parents and happened upon the kite festival.  We watched the sky dotted with various creative shapes, swaying and diving in the wind.  Another year, my niece Kay came. I have a framed picture of us posing by a tree in the sunshine.  One time my other niece Phoebe came, but it was freezing cold. I dragged her down there determinedly so that we could look at them even though it was frigid.  My nephew Josef came during a tour of colleges. That day the weather was unseasonably hot, and I parked really far away and we were sweaty by the time we made it to the trees.  One time Scott and I were walking there at night around the whole Tidal Basin, and we got stuck in a downpour. Another time during the day, a big thunderstorm blew in and whipped up waves, and the people on the paddle boats were stranded. I had a salad picnic with Sarah and Rebecca. One year, I took a video of a beaver swimming along.
Every year is slightly different. Today was certainly a new experience.

Today was the first time I have used my car since last Friday.  I drove down to see the cherry blossoms in DC. They are only in bloom for a few days every year.  Every year the weather, the experience, the company is different.  Today I drove there and saw big digital signs that are usually used to warn about traffic, but they were telling people to OBEY CDC GUIDELINES.  STAY SIX FEET AWAY FROM PEOPLE. If I had seen that even a couple of months ago, I would have been confused, but now it seems kind of normal. New normal.  I walked on Hains Point along the miles of flowering trees, careful not to come near anyone. There were definitely fewer people there. I put my family on a Zoom call so that they could see the blossoms, too.  There were definitely not as many people as usual, but the trees were just as stunning as always, even though the world is upside down.

timeline of giant realizations

Things change so fast.  I can think of several key moments in the past week that have been a sea change for me:

Friday, March 13 at 3:30am:  Reading this article about how long the virus survives on surfaces and in the air

Sunday, March 15:  After talking to B, realizing I needed to self-quarantine

Wednesday, March 18 was a big day:  Reading this article and realizing the inevitable lockdown was coming.  Talking to my students on Zoom and realizing for real their future is forever changed.

Today:  My first drink since this all began.  Not bad to have waited this long, I think.

allergy season

It's a good thing I'm self-quarantined because I really enjoy picking my nose during allergy season. I'll touch my face however I want all here by myself, thank you very much.

Self-Quarantine Day 3 - first Zoom classes

Writing for yesterday . . .

I was under pressure to get stuff done, so I did.  Less news, more action.

I wrote up a journal assignment with help from some sources that Beth had sent me.  I prepped for the two Zoom calls, trying to make everything as organized as I could.

I took a short walk to talk on the phone with my 98-year-old friend Al because I urgently wanted to share with him that Giant was opening its stores to only the elderly and the vulnerable 6am-7am every morning starting on Friday.  I want him to go at that time so that he will have less exposure to the virus.  If I can't convince him to stay home, maybe I can at least convince him to reduce his risk.  He laughed at me and proceeded to tell me a story about how he went to Giant today because he had lost his remote for his hearing aid there.  I tried to be insistent, and he acted as though I had told him that he needed to adopt a pet monkey; to him, my suggestion was that ridiculous.  He explained to that he goes to the store at 9 and walks the whole store to get his exercise, he said.

I ordered a leash and a harness so that I can walk the dog next door without

Later I had two Zoom calls--one with my African American literature class and another with my College Composition I class.  I was surprised at how well the technology worked.  I had a few glitches with it, but in general, we were able to communicate and share ideas.  The breakout rooms worked particularly well.  I'm definitely still learning, but the calls were both productive in terms of establishing some sense of normalcy and moving forward with our work for the class.

I asked each student about his/her work and family.  It was so good to interact with them, to see their familiar faces, even if it was on my computer.  We laughed.  I didn't sense a lot of urgency in general.  They don't seem to have a sense of the big picture impact of the situation. A huge number of them work in restaurants.  They think they are just on a two week break; they don't seem to grasp the likelihood that the restaurant business is going to tank completely.  A couple of my students work in grocery stores and were exhausted.  One of them who works at Trader Joe's is due to have a baby any day.  One student talked about how he got hurt at work and the emergency room referred him to another place because they were busy preparing for COVID-19.  I didn't fully understand his story, but it seems as though people with minor injuries are being displaced already.  A couple of students work in daycare centers.  One student works in an assisted living facility and described how residents have to eat alone in their rooms and can't have visitors.

And one student was sick.  See the other post about her.

The College Composition class was interested in writing about social distancing instead of about mandatory voting.  More on that in a different post.

At the end, I was exhausted and excited and riled up.  It was great to interact with people, great to be teaching.  And terrifying to look into the future and see how much struggle is ahead.  I really couldn't wrap my head around it.  So I just went and took a bath and fell asleep in the tub.

sick student

In my video conference with my students, one of them wasn't feeling well.  She was pale and coughing.

Later on in the call, while she was in a small group, she told me she was concerned she had Coronavirus, but she didn't have a doctor and didn't know what to do.  I'm not sure if she has health insurance, but one of the other students discouraged her from going to the doctor because it was going to cost so much money.

I asked to speak with her separately in a breakout room on Zoom.  She told me she was afraid because she lives with her grandmother and her aunt.  I told her not to go anywhere and to wash her hands.  I asked for her phone number, then immediately posted something on Facebook asking for help about where to refer her.  I sent off an email to my boss.  I called a friend who is an administrator and she recommended I contact the Office of Emergency Management at the college, so I sent them an email. 

Meanwhile, someone on Facebook suggested a Virginia hotline number, which I texted my student and told her to call.  She texted back that it was just a robot. 

An old friend who is a doctor, someone who I have not heard from in decades apparently still had my phone number and texted me directly to tell me to refer her to the county health department.  Just after I sent her that number, I received an email from the OEM linking me to this page at the college to have her self-report.

I hope they contact her.  She was clearly scared and grateful that I was helping her.  She felt crappy and didn't know how to help.  Of course she wasn't going to run in circles to find resources.  She was just going to stay in her house and be sick--in the best case scenario.  And I'm still not sure that the resource I found is going to be of real assistance to her.  I'll follow up with her today

I've expended so much energy trying to get away from sick people over the past couple of days that I haven't considered what to do if I encounter a sick person--besides stay away.  It was a real wake up call to be put in that situation.  Infuriating to find a person who could really make a difference by staying put and not have reliable resources to share. 

Self-Quarantine Day 2 - St Paddy's Day

I spent a lot of time walking and talking on the phone with Bridget today.  I mailed some letters.  I explored my neighborhood some more and found that I am only a ten minute walk from a nice little shopping center.  Of course, I can't actually enter anything in the shopping center, but I guess it's good to know that it's there.

It was such a beautiful day.  It reminded me of 9/11 - perfect weather that made it difficult to believe that there was something going wrong in the world.

I tried making a schedule.  I tried.  It was tough to follow it.  Maybe for day 3, I'll try making it tonight before I go to bed.

Not a lot of actual news today.  Sounds funny to say that.  More cases, more closings.  I expect that soon it will start to get quiet as everything closes and everyone hunkers down and there is a steady stream of news about sickness and death.

Now I cross the street when I'm walking and someone comes toward me.  I really like the walking paths, but people seem too close to me there.  I think I'll try sticking to the neighborhoods for awhile, though the paths might be okay in the early morning.

I was able to get a bunch of work done today.  Finally able to focus some.

I need to stop bringing my phone into the bedroom.  It's too tempting to look at it when I wake up in the middle of the night.  Last night I woke up at 3:30 and read a Facebook message from a friend who flew to Jordan and was forced by the military into a two week quarantine in a hotel room.

There was a joyful hour in my day when my siblings and I all did a Zoom call together. We looked like the Brady Bunch!  It was hilarious.  We showed each other pictures of our supplies and talked about what we were doing.  Leslie helped set up a drive-thru testing site in New Haven.

Joe Biden just won a couple of big primaries.  The race seems to be coming to a close.

Off to read and try to calm my mind.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!  What a weird one.

work from home takeaway

My cat sleeps a lot.

schedule

I’m trying. 

my main problem

My problem today with self-quarantine is peeing.  I have to pee every couple of hours, so I can't walk for longer than two hours, one hour out and one hour back to my own bathroom.  I need to walk for longer than that, but I can't use a public bathroom.  Though maybe I could find the just right one and wear gloves and Purel?  Or I could get a Shewee and piss on the street?  All suggestions welcome.

"make your own kind of music"

I keep thinking of this scene from Lost of Desmond in the bunker.  That's how I feel.  Just going about my morning while some threat looms outside.

Self-Quarantine Day 1 - lots of talking

I concentrated really well this morning.  I made myself a schedule and drank many cups of tea.  I set up my laptop on the sunny table near the door and did work for several hours.  It felt like a regular workday.  And then I made myself a nice lunch and headed out for a walk and started checking in with people on the phone.

My call log tells me I talked to the following people on the phone today:

• Heather
• Beth
• Rebecca
• Scott
• Dave
• Al
• Terri
• Bridget
• Kris
• Helen
• Mom

And that doesn't even include the people I've texted with.  I'm exhausted from all of the interaction that accompanies social distancing. 

We all talked about Coronavirus.  We talked about what we are doing to protect ourselves.  The range of actions is stunning.  Some people seem delusional to me.  Other people seem to have some sense of the severity of the situation.  People whom I would expect to be completely prepared and careful are unready and careless.  Some people who are at risk are hunkered down, ready to stay in place for months on end.  Others are flippant, planning St Patrick's Day parties.  

I find myself being very judgmental.  I want everyone to be safe.  I want everyone to do their best, to rise to the challenge, of trying to make sure that everyone else is safe.  But who says my way is the right way?  And what is my way?  Who knows what the right way is?  This is uncharted territory.

I'm particularly frustrated by my 98-year-old friend.  I called and he was home watching the news.  I asked him if he was staying home, and he informed me that he was going to stay home--for the rest of the day.  He had gone to the store this morning.  I tried to get him to engage, to discuss the possibility of quarantining himself, but he just laughed it off.  I'm furious, but maybe he's right.  Maybe he will be fine.  He's lived a lot more than I have.

Terri called me to tell me that the Bay Area was being told to shelter in place.

I watched Trump's press conference this afternoon.  He acknowledged that this emergency may last until July.  It seems to me like it will last a lot longer than that.  Watching the exchange made me nervous and set me off on a news binge that has lasted about six hours.  

Tonight, Heather dropped by some groceries and some plastic bags for me to use for the litter box.  We chatted in the driveway with several feet between us.  Is it safe for me to bring in the mail?  Is it safe for me to bring in the 12 pack of seltzer she delivered?  What should I wipe down?  How far can I go to seal myself off from the world?  

What are the rules?

I feel like there is so much more I should write.  Things move quickly and slowly at the same time.  It's overwhelming, truly overwhelming in a way I have never before experienced.

Quarantine Day 1.

six impossible things

I used to really love this quote from Alice in Wonderland:

"There's no use trying," she said: "one can't believe impossible things." "I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

But now here we are.  I feel like I am forced to believe dozens of impossible things before breakfast and none of them are happy.

I was just watching Anderson Cooper.  Someone asked whether it was safe to swim.  And the doctor on the program said that if someone near you sneezes, then you could become infected.  And Anderson Cooper said, "What about sneezing underwater?"  And then he looked a little surprised at himself, marveling.  Like maybe it was possible to sneeze underwater.  And then he said, "Who knows about the science of underwater sneezing?"  

Who knows what impossible things we'll be asked to believe tomorrow.

cooking

I have never before found cooking as soothing as I have these past few days. 

the oddest spring break

On Tuesday, I took a train from Connecticut to Virginia.  A train!  Five short days later--long days, really--that is unimaginable to me.  To think, I just stood on the platform near a bunch of other people, waltzed on through the doors, and plunked myself in a seat.  Sure, I wiped the area down, but I sat there for six hours breathing the same air as dozens of other passengers.  I used the germy bathroom.  I got ginger ale from the cafe car.  Those small actions repulse me now.

At least nobody sat next to me.  I had a strategy to avoid that.  

New passenger:  "Is this seat taken?"

Me:  "Coughcoughcough.  No.  Coughcough.  Please, have a seat."  

The train stopped even stopped in New Rochelle, just after I read this article that New York Governor Cuomo had imposed a "containment area" there.  Great.

I arrived home and stopped by the CVS to idly grab some cough medicine.  I was going to buy a thermometer, but it seemed too expensive at 11 bucks.  "I'll get something cheaper on Amazon."  That was before I realized that the only thermometers you could get on Amazon are 30 buck things that you stick in your ear.  All of the simple ones are sold out.

I went home.  I took a shower.  I read about Joe Biden winning some primaries.

On Wednesday, I still wasn't all that concerned.  I went to yoga at the gym.  It was crowded.  At the end of the peaceful class, just after we bowed and said Namaste, the instructor said, "Wash your hands and wipe your stuff down because we're all going to die."  The class giggled.  I halfheartedly wiped down the blocks after I used them. 

I went to a dinner party.  Each of us apologized whenever we let out a small cough.  We ate tacos.  We grabbed various spoons and bowls and passed them around while eating.  We had washed our hands beforehand. Jennifer, the hostess, indicated that she resisted asking us to bring over some Corona.

We talked about the news, of course.  WHO had declared a pandemic earlier in the day.  My school was moved to remote learning.  The NBA canceled.  More cases popped up around the country and across the world.  And then, during dinner, Heather looked up from her phone and asked, "When is Rebecca coming back from Ethiopia?"  Trump had given an address from the Oval Office in which he blocked travelers coming from Europe.  Our friend was due to fly through Europe.  The air left the room as we researched to make sure that she was coming back in time.  

Thursday came, and news began piling up, the panic embraced me slowly, squeezing me.  I still went to water aerobics at the gym, but it didn't seem like a very good idea, though I was pretty sure the chlorine would kill the virus.  I did some grocery shopping on Thursday during the day and bought a cart full of groceries and supplies.  We had another dinner party.   It was a bit less jovial.  We traded news about what had happened that day.  I think that was the day the market crashed.  So much happened that it was hard to keep track.

And then Friday morning at 3am, I woke up and read this article stating:  "'Our results indicate that aerosol and fomite transmission of HCoV-19 is plausible, as the virus can remain viable in aerosols for multiple hours and on surfaces up to days,' reads the study's abstract."

At that moment, in my bed, staring at my phone, shit changed for me.  The cozy laughing and joking at the dinner parties about whether we could still hang out, whether I could still go to the gym, was no longer amusing.  If this thing could stay in the air and on surfaces, it was impossible for my parents to protect themselves without a thorough separation from the world.  I wrote a message asking them to please isolate themselves completely.  My mother said she would consider it but later in the day, she went to a medical supply place twice, the bird store, the butcher, and the gas station.  I threatened to send her some of the most terrifying articles I had read if she did not self-quarantine.

My calm evaporated.  My plans for a healthy time at home also evaporated.  I realized that I hadn't bought any junk food at all.  I planned to arrive at Trader Joe's when it opened.  Everyone else at the same strategy.  By the time I arrived at 8:10, I had taken one of the last carts.  I walked around throwing frozen food and shelf-stable supplies into my cart as though I were one of those people in a game show who has to sprint through the store and pile everything in.  The checkout lines stretched halfway back through the store.

After reading and reading and reading, I decided that I would commit to social distancing.  On Saturday, I spent a peaceful day by myself.  Today, Sunday, I realized that I need to self-quarantine.  

peanut butter and toilet paper

A few weeks ago, after I had just moved into my own place, I went to BJ's.  While I was walking through the aisles, gaping at the pallets of immense boxes and bottles, I felt ridiculous.  What could a single person possibly need in such quantity?

But I tossed a myself a tower of toilet paper and two giant jars of peanut butter and a few other staples into my cart.  As I searched around my apartment for places to stash all of the rolls of toilet paper, I joked that it would last me 'til next year.

My mom always says that as long as you have peanut butter and toilet paper you are prepared for anything.  I'm all set.  

self-quarantine: day -1

This afternoon, I decided to self-quarantine for the next three weeks.

Why?  I'm only 45.  I'm fairly healthy.  From all reports, I'm at low risk of having severe effects from COVID-19.  There have been a few reported aberrations in which people even younger and healthier than me fell very ill, but overall, I don't have much to worry about besides an uncomfortable several days of achiness and difficulty breathing.  Meh.  Who cares?

I could just engage in social distancing.  I could go out less, only visit the grocery store when absolutely necessary.  After several days of reading, I'm convinced that is the ethical way to protect vulnerable populations.

However, what I've realized is that I don't just want to protect "vulnerable populations."  I want to be able to visit my mom and dad.  And because they are at high-risk of having catastrophic effects from the Coronavirus, I have to be absolutely certain that I am clear of the disease before I go there.  Supposedly it has a 2 day to 14 day incubation period.  I'll protect myself for 3 weeks just to be sure.

And then I'll drive to Connecticut in my car.  I'll get gas at a remote place off the highway while wearing gloves and a mask.  I'll pee on the side of the road.  And I'll be so glad to see them when I get there.

That's the plan.  Stick with me; I'll need company.

a new pilgrim sole

Thirteen springs ago, I set out on a 500 mile walk by myself across Spain.  While I walked, I never listened to music or talked on the phone.  I didn't even have a device with me, just a backpack full of clothes, a walking stick, and some water.  Every day, I woke up, laced on my shoes and walked for a bunch of miles.  I moved my feet and wandered through the country and thought.  Sometimes, I had the company of strangers, many of whom became friends, but a lot of the time, I thought my thinks and then found an internet cafe and wrote in brief bursts here on this blog.

It was a wondrous time, one of the best and most memorable times of my life.

For the intervening years, I have always said that I was going to walk more.  And I tell myself that I am going to write more, too.  But I rarely do it, not really.

This spring, as we all face the Coronavirus, I'm walking again, and I'm doing it mostly by myself.  In these days when we are discouraged from getting together, from socializing indoors, what else can we do but walk?

So I'm restarting this blog because when I move my feet, I start to think in writing.  Having just finished walking for an hour and a half in my new neighborhood, I hurried through the door--mostly because I really needed to pee--but partly because I was so eager to sit down at my computer and write.

Here we are, people.  In this new normal, we walk.  We walk alone, we walk together.  The pilgrimage is different, but I'm putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward.  I hope you'll join me.

Buen camino.