March 31 2020 Our daughter is a physician in a COVID only hospital. She had dire news. Maybe it was "out there" in all the reports on the internet but I never processed it. Sooner or later, almost the entire population of the world will get COVID. There is no immunity. She recommended my husband and I self isolate for 6 to 8 months. Or until they find a vaccine.
I told a friend that information (by phone). Also our son. They both said, maybe we should get it now while facilities are not overcrowded I said, no, there's no guarantee getting it now will provide immunity. Plus it is a horrible way to die, choking without air.
Meanwhile, ordinary life goes on for many people we know: All in the past month.
An employee of my husband and her husband have it. They have two small children. The children are symptom free but brought it home from their Day Care teacher. She said she has a constant headache, breathing problems, and fatigue.
A former colleague of mine's son, in his 20's, died of an overdose.
A friend's grandchild, severely disabled sine birth, died at age 15.
A friend' new granddaugher, a new born; has a rare bacterial infection and is in a hospital with her mother.
A good friend here in Florida fell in his lanai and broke his shoulder, wrist and has a trombosis in his leg. He is at home.
The good news is we are safe here in our small condo community in Florida. Every day brings small challenges to be overcome. Today my Whole Foods order went through for delivery. I'm stunned. This has been my daily on line hunt and only once before has a WH order gone through. I think people are leaving lorida for "home" wherever that is. We are stayig although my husband wants to go "home" somehow.
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Day 18 continued
Today was a scorcher but I got out early into the garden, clipping and trimming and it felt good. Am doing loads of wash since I take off my clothes and change them every time I walk the dog or go to the garbage bin. The news is not good. This coronavirus won't go away.
My sister lives alone on Long Island. She has diabetes. I feel for her since she no longer even walks with friends through the neighborhood and sees her daughter/grandkids when they pull up in the car and roll down the window 6 feet away. I call her almost every evening while walking the dog. Missed it last night. Will try tonight.
My sister lives alone on Long Island. She has diabetes. I feel for her since she no longer even walks with friends through the neighborhood and sees her daughter/grandkids when they pull up in the car and roll down the window 6 feet away. I call her almost every evening while walking the dog. Missed it last night. Will try tonight.
Day 18
Yesterday was off kilter. My old Department Chair called with news that a former colleague's son died. Opiod overdose. I emailed the colleague. He said he had been hopeful. The son was addicted for 7 years, then "clean: for 2 1/2 years, worked on a farm in a remote area of Colorado, then relapsed, then overdosed accidentally. Colleague said this often happens with addicts who relapse. He was happy for the time he spent the past few years with the son, flying out to Colorado, going skiing, etc. I don't know how you ever get over this, if ever.
Department chair himself now is retired and lives in Colorado. I'm very happy for him. He worked hard. He contracted hanta virus when he lived in Maryland, almost died. Rare for the east coast. He was treated at NIH I guess it was a dozen years ago. Heroic measures saved him. A physician directly under Fauci worked assiduously to treat and save him. He said she should have been up there with Tromp during those incomprehensible press briefings but that Tromp would never have tolerated a female Asian physician up there.
Out of an abundance of sadness, my husband and I took a drive past the beaches, ostensibly closed but packed with people who didn't need to use the parking lots. I guess incomprehensible press briefings make sense to some people.
Then we drove to a spot where the dog could run, a serene spot beautiful and quiet. No not a cemetery. A spectacular Catholic Church tucked away on a side road. We let Zoey off leash and she looked a bit confused. I kept thinking we were on CCTV and the police would be called. But there were no NO TRESSPASSING signs. As we left we did see a Sheriff's car but I have seen them in that area before since the church is tucked behind fast food places and car dealerships.
Department chair himself now is retired and lives in Colorado. I'm very happy for him. He worked hard. He contracted hanta virus when he lived in Maryland, almost died. Rare for the east coast. He was treated at NIH I guess it was a dozen years ago. Heroic measures saved him. A physician directly under Fauci worked assiduously to treat and save him. He said she should have been up there with Tromp during those incomprehensible press briefings but that Tromp would never have tolerated a female Asian physician up there.
Out of an abundance of sadness, my husband and I took a drive past the beaches, ostensibly closed but packed with people who didn't need to use the parking lots. I guess incomprehensible press briefings make sense to some people.
Then we drove to a spot where the dog could run, a serene spot beautiful and quiet. No not a cemetery. A spectacular Catholic Church tucked away on a side road. We let Zoey off leash and she looked a bit confused. I kept thinking we were on CCTV and the police would be called. But there were no NO TRESSPASSING signs. As we left we did see a Sheriff's car but I have seen them in that area before since the church is tucked behind fast food places and car dealerships.
Friday, March 27, 2020
Day 16
I no longer watch the news, although I scan headlines. Coping with the unimaginable requires tuning some of it out. My husband works from home, then takes a late afternoon break to watch the news on CNN. I glance at the screen. A physician is being interviewed. As he waits to respond, he chokes up, almost crying. Then he catches himself.
Our daughter is a physician in a hospital that was transformed into COVID only. She said the thing that gets you is that people come in relatively healthy and then deteriorate rapidly. There is relatively little the doctors can do to help. They have been triaging patients for a week or so now, giving the ventilators to those most likely to recover, not the sickest. My husband looks at me and says, they will never give me a ventilator.
This, a first world power, has come to this.
Our daughter is a physician in a hospital that was transformed into COVID only. She said the thing that gets you is that people come in relatively healthy and then deteriorate rapidly. There is relatively little the doctors can do to help. They have been triaging patients for a week or so now, giving the ventilators to those most likely to recover, not the sickest. My husband looks at me and says, they will never give me a ventilator.
This, a first world power, has come to this.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Day 15
Up at 10 30 but all is not lost. I was up at 2 a.m, reading. Up at 4 a.m. doing laundry Up at 6 a.m. again checking email. Guess I slept in between.
This headache I've had for days (upon awakening) won't go away. I take Excedrin. Headache goes away, as do the muscle aches. I have stopped reading about the coronavirus. Stress management 101
The days are counted in small victories. I tried to place a delivery order with Whole Foods more than a week ago. They never had available times for delivery. they kept saying on the website "Check back later" Finally at 2 a.m. I found a delivery time. HAH.
I'm really getting tired of Amy's organic soups.
I have become careful about food. I put stale tortilla chips in soup. Not bad. Soggy flavorful chips. My husband didn't finish the lobster ravioli from a few days ago. It sits in the refrigerator. I'll harass him to eat it one more time.
Our club serves sandwiches and meals to go. I can't do it....
This headache I've had for days (upon awakening) won't go away. I take Excedrin. Headache goes away, as do the muscle aches. I have stopped reading about the coronavirus. Stress management 101
The days are counted in small victories. I tried to place a delivery order with Whole Foods more than a week ago. They never had available times for delivery. they kept saying on the website "Check back later" Finally at 2 a.m. I found a delivery time. HAH.
I'm really getting tired of Amy's organic soups.
I have become careful about food. I put stale tortilla chips in soup. Not bad. Soggy flavorful chips. My husband didn't finish the lobster ravioli from a few days ago. It sits in the refrigerator. I'll harass him to eat it one more time.
Our club serves sandwiches and meals to go. I can't do it....
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
Day14
Today is Wednesday. Two weeks since our youngest son and his wife left to go back North. Two weeks since we ate on the beach, surrounded by all things denial. I have been counting the days since we began "sheltering-in-place", cheating a little bit on runs to the bank and CVs drive-thru. Oh yes, the Post Office - but only to drop off mail. Honestly.
My husband is telecommuting to his small six worker firm. All but two employees telecommute - Boston, Chicago, Baltimore, Wash., DC. They use an internal Zoom-type service to connect.
I am starting to think of our food supplies. Delivery services are backed up. Whole Foods and Target are impossible. Publix will make its first delivery today. We have been eating lots of canned food. Mostly soups. I think I found frozen chicken in the bottom of the freezer. We still have eggs.
This a.m. I am trying to make things normal. Better than normal. I sit on the lanai, sipping healthy licorice tea., reading a forgettable crime novel.
My husband walks out to where I'm sitting. He looks shipwrecked. His mustache is growing over his lip. Something is wrong with his beard. "Marjorie can't work anymore. She needs to rest". Marjorie and her husband Matt have COVID-19. She has trouble breathing and a headache all the time. They have two small children, the first conceived by a year's worth of painful IVF. On Christmas cards he and his younger sister sport big glasses and red hair. Mischievous, happy grins. Their day care teacher has COVID-19. It was transmitted to Eleanor and Matt through contact with the children. The teacher waited three days to tell the parents.
I start to clean out the kitchen shelves. Alexa plays The Platters on I heart radio.
My husband is telecommuting to his small six worker firm. All but two employees telecommute - Boston, Chicago, Baltimore, Wash., DC. They use an internal Zoom-type service to connect.
I am starting to think of our food supplies. Delivery services are backed up. Whole Foods and Target are impossible. Publix will make its first delivery today. We have been eating lots of canned food. Mostly soups. I think I found frozen chicken in the bottom of the freezer. We still have eggs.
This a.m. I am trying to make things normal. Better than normal. I sit on the lanai, sipping healthy licorice tea., reading a forgettable crime novel.
My husband walks out to where I'm sitting. He looks shipwrecked. His mustache is growing over his lip. Something is wrong with his beard. "Marjorie can't work anymore. She needs to rest". Marjorie and her husband Matt have COVID-19. She has trouble breathing and a headache all the time. They have two small children, the first conceived by a year's worth of painful IVF. On Christmas cards he and his younger sister sport big glasses and red hair. Mischievous, happy grins. Their day care teacher has COVID-19. It was transmitted to Eleanor and Matt through contact with the children. The teacher waited three days to tell the parents.
I start to clean out the kitchen shelves. Alexa plays The Platters on I heart radio.
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
Class reunions I'd rather not remember
Class reunions always involve treacherous terrain. At my 10th undergraduate reunion I had an unfortunate encounter with my ex boyfriend. We had unfinished business. That encounter finished it. I never saw him again.
The most recent reunion was my 55th. A friend had lobbied the University administration to provide us with a room on campus. I decided to go to support this classmate's success. Her husband had been our class President. He was a fantastic class president. He had a great future. Alas, somewhere along the way he ended up in Federal prison for student loan fraud at a proprietary vocational school where he worked. Two years. But I digress.
Ten years ago, our 45th reunion Friday night event occurred at an off campus site in downtown DC. The room was hot and crowded. Impossible to get a drink. My husband didn't come with me. I convinced a friend to go with me and we took the Metro down from her house. Most of those attending were women dragging compliant husbands. Only one man was there - Matt. I remembered Matt from school but didn't know him well. He was one of those friendly cute guys. He had been in the same fraternity as a guy, Bill, who married my best friend,. I introduced Bill and my friend. They married, had three kids and divorced. I was Godmother to their first child. We drifted apart.
At that 45th reunion, stuffed into an overheated room, Matt and I spoke as he circled the room. He was a lawyer in Richmond. Private practice. He had that Lawyer in Richmond look. Something about that Southern gene pool. He was still cute. I asked him if he remembered Bill, his fraternity brother. My friend Bill's ex wife had died by that time. No, he didn't remember Bill.
Certain events in our lives stand out while others recede. I remember that night at our 45th reunion.The oppressive heat. The crowded room. Several of us trickled outside where it was cooler. Matt left.
Life goes on but finding Bill periodically consumed me. I goggled. Nothing. I asked fellow classmates but no one had any information. How does someone disappear? My husband was peripherally involved in the search for Bill because he knew him from when we were all first married. I must have told my husband about meeting Matt at the 45th reunion and asking him about Bill.
Back to the 55th reunion in the comfortable room the University provided us this time around. After dinner, my husband and I separated, each of us talking to different groups. I ended up sharing stories with our Class President, the ex felon. We had many laughs and didn't notice the place was closing down, caterers packing up. Then my husband interrupted us triumphantly, a befuddled man in tow. Mari, here's Matt.
Ten years had not been kind to Matt. He was again alone. He couldn't remember me and couldn't figure out why my husband dragged him over. It was pretty damned awkward. Hi Matt, I said, do you still live in Richmond? He eyed me suspiciously. How do you know that, he asked? Oh we were talking at the class reunion 10 years ago. Do you still practice law?. He started warming up. I reminded him we had been talking about Bill. By way of explanation, I said I have been wondering what happened to him. He married a friend. He was in your fraternity.
A small group of us walked out to our cars. Matt muttered, mostly to himself, Bill, Bill. Oh yes, he said, I get our old fraternity newsletter. I seem to remember someone by that name died three weeks ago,
He was right. I found the Obit on line. No family information. I wrote something nice on the tribute page. Only one other person had written anything.
The most recent reunion was my 55th. A friend had lobbied the University administration to provide us with a room on campus. I decided to go to support this classmate's success. Her husband had been our class President. He was a fantastic class president. He had a great future. Alas, somewhere along the way he ended up in Federal prison for student loan fraud at a proprietary vocational school where he worked. Two years. But I digress.
Ten years ago, our 45th reunion Friday night event occurred at an off campus site in downtown DC. The room was hot and crowded. Impossible to get a drink. My husband didn't come with me. I convinced a friend to go with me and we took the Metro down from her house. Most of those attending were women dragging compliant husbands. Only one man was there - Matt. I remembered Matt from school but didn't know him well. He was one of those friendly cute guys. He had been in the same fraternity as a guy, Bill, who married my best friend,. I introduced Bill and my friend. They married, had three kids and divorced. I was Godmother to their first child. We drifted apart.
At that 45th reunion, stuffed into an overheated room, Matt and I spoke as he circled the room. He was a lawyer in Richmond. Private practice. He had that Lawyer in Richmond look. Something about that Southern gene pool. He was still cute. I asked him if he remembered Bill, his fraternity brother. My friend Bill's ex wife had died by that time. No, he didn't remember Bill.
Certain events in our lives stand out while others recede. I remember that night at our 45th reunion.The oppressive heat. The crowded room. Several of us trickled outside where it was cooler. Matt left.
Life goes on but finding Bill periodically consumed me. I goggled. Nothing. I asked fellow classmates but no one had any information. How does someone disappear? My husband was peripherally involved in the search for Bill because he knew him from when we were all first married. I must have told my husband about meeting Matt at the 45th reunion and asking him about Bill.
Back to the 55th reunion in the comfortable room the University provided us this time around. After dinner, my husband and I separated, each of us talking to different groups. I ended up sharing stories with our Class President, the ex felon. We had many laughs and didn't notice the place was closing down, caterers packing up. Then my husband interrupted us triumphantly, a befuddled man in tow. Mari, here's Matt.
Ten years had not been kind to Matt. He was again alone. He couldn't remember me and couldn't figure out why my husband dragged him over. It was pretty damned awkward. Hi Matt, I said, do you still live in Richmond? He eyed me suspiciously. How do you know that, he asked? Oh we were talking at the class reunion 10 years ago. Do you still practice law?. He started warming up. I reminded him we had been talking about Bill. By way of explanation, I said I have been wondering what happened to him. He married a friend. He was in your fraternity.
A small group of us walked out to our cars. Matt muttered, mostly to himself, Bill, Bill. Oh yes, he said, I get our old fraternity newsletter. I seem to remember someone by that name died three weeks ago,
He was right. I found the Obit on line. No family information. I wrote something nice on the tribute page. Only one other person had written anything.
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