It has been 18 or so days since I woke up feeling like I was coming down with something that turned into nothing except the feeling of my chest being pressed in the center by a 50lb weight. It has been 18 days since my sore throat has come and gone, along with it occasional sniffles. It has been 14 days since I contacted my doctor and she told me that I couldn’t come in to be seen, but my symptoms were concerning enough that she would preemptively treat me for pneumonia and give me a strong antibiotic and an inhaler. 10 day for so since I developed a cold ice gel sensation in my lungs that burned a cool burn and tingled through my entire body, waking me up in the middle of the night. 3 days since I thought I was getting better, but the sore throat and bruised lung sensation returned. 1 day since I realized I’m not getting better.
It may well be that I have a new poorly timed allergy after years of suffering no such symptoms come spring. I’d like to see my doctor in person and be checked out properly. This cannot happen, of course. Not in the age of coronavirus. My lungs are sore and likely inflamed. I have shortness of breath when I walk and sometimes I need to sit down to catch my breath. It’s terrifying. And it’s probably not Coronavirus. It’s especially terrifying if it isn’t Coronavirus, because I may have some undiagnosed Asthma or something that would make getting actual Covid-19 really, really bad.
Today, for the first time in two weeks, I went to a store. I really wanted eggs so I ventured into Whole Foods and tried my best to remain 6 feet from everyone, but that was impossible. I found one empty aisles and made a beeline for the back of the store, switching into a different aisle half way to avoid someone who turned the corner. I kept my face down while peering up to identify the eggs. Found them. Grabbed two boxes of eggs. Then a few other things. Grabbed two cans of pinto beans then immediately regretted it as I didn’t have a cart and I was well on my way to dropping two dozen eggs and acquiring a virus that may in under a month take my life. I felt I had to buy everything I touched, so I did. The two dozen eggs, the two cans of pinto beans, the sorbet bars that turned out to be ice cream bars with sorbet in the middle, a tea, and a dark chocolate coconut bar at checkout.
I failed miserably at checkout. But they didn’t make it so easy. There are blue x’s on the floor but the people behind me came up too far and I went up too far and then it was all over. I was panicking and accidentally put my chocolate bar on the pile of food that the people behind me were purchasing. I apologized and kept my head down. I felt horrible for the woman checking me out who must have at least been 50, and probably in her 60s. She had gloves on, but surely she was at high risk for being infected. Given the situation, I’m shocked that grocery stores aren’t turning into order ahead and pickup or delivery only. Maybe that’s not financially feasible, but it would be safer.
The grocery store shopping expense was surreal with the barren shelves and the people shopping all either clearly trying to avoid being anywhere near another human and then others prancing about and walking past me at full speed, way too close. I couldn’t hold my breath the entire time as I did when I went to the post office to drop off a letter the other day, so I just gave in to get my eggs. If I’m going to die, I at least need to experience the delicious fluff of a few more good homemade omelettes.
This will all end eventually. We all know it will. I’m not even really anxious anymore. I mean, I am anxious, but that’s not the predominant mood of the week. I’m just sad. I’m so fucking sad and I don’t know how to process it. Because it’s not like the depression I’m used to which is largely just a self defense mechanism to keep disappointment at bay, this is a true, raw sadness that brings me back to the months leading up to when my father passed away and the weeks after. It’s this emptiness. This being stuck in limbo. Especially while others act as if everything is ok (even though in this case everyone is actually experience the same loss of normalcy) and I know everything is not ok. It may be ok for me, personally, but the world is not ok. There is so much broken in the world and especially in this country. We all need a wake up call but the saddest part of all is that even a pandemic will not wake people up. How many fucking people approve of how Trump is handling this mess? How many fucking people think he’s doing a great job despite lying over and over again how this wasn’t a big deal? You know what’s sickening? That no matter what he does, his supporters don’t care. And people think he’s doing a good job when his actions (or lack of action) is literally killing hundreds of people, if not thousands of people. Yea, great job.
I don’t think the problem is capitalism. Or socialism. It’s people. People are pretty horrible, when it comes down to it. I can’t say I’m better than the average anyone. We’re all in it for self preservation and survival. But our drive to self preserve is our downfall. I’ve tried to explain to conservative types that even rich people are better off if people in their society are not left to suffer in poverty. We don’t have to bring the top down to bring the bottom up. No one gets it. Here is a real example. We give everyone healthcare. We make sure that everyone can have paid sick leave and see a doctor and not spread a virus so quickly because people refuse to stay home from work when they are ill in fear of losing their jobs. Our country is ridiculously wealthy and yet look at us. Doctors. Nurses. Those on the frontlines. Having to reuse masks and protective gear. What the hell is wrong with us, America?
This morning I read an article that has been circulating about how what many of us are feeling is grief. It’s not just about the loss of life, or even the momentary loss of our way of life. It’s knowing that our world from before has forever changed. That we may move on but we’ll never forget. We’ll be a little more nervous about things like hugging friends and the germs we might acquire touching anything in public. It’s this deep sense of loss. And I was thinking yesterday how what I really feel is mourning. Mourning the loss of the early childhood I expected for my son, mourning that I may not be able to have another child if I responsibly wait until all of this has passed to try, mourning that even though I’m incredibly socially awkward I was just in the past year starting to make a few friends at work who I hung out with in person once in a blue moon, which made me incredibly happy, and now that’s all over too. Or, at the very least, on hold for who knows how long.
Sure, we may be allowed back into the world sooner than later. But the virus will still be lurking. I won’t want to go out to restaurants or bars or anywhere. I’ll drive to work, take the steps without holding the railing, sit at my desk, try to find a seat on the far end of the table in meetings, and immediately drive home without stopping along the way. Just weeks ago I was thinking of all the classes and activities I would enroll my son in over the coming years. How fun it would be to take him back to the zoo now that he knows animals and would recognize them. How we would go to the aquarium a few more times this year, every few months watching him grow into being amazed by the schools of fish swimming by and glowing jellyfish floating about on display.
There will be memories made at home, too. I get to see my son much more than I would otherwise while working from home. Not much during the day, but at lunch I can see him, and then after work I don’t have to spend 45 minutes in traffic waiting to get home, exhausted. Instead, I have more energy to be a mother. Which is nice. I mean, outside of my lung problems, and finding it hard to breathe and have energy for much at all these days.
I’m definitely trying to focus on the positive here. Trying to connect with friends who I unfortunately lost touch with, because we’re all so busy but now we’re all stuck at home (though some have quite an active virtual social life!) I’m trying. Like we’re all trying. But I’m sad. And I just have to say it. I’m sad for all of the people who are losing their lives in Italy because there are not enough hospital beds. I’m sad for my friends stuck in New York City who are terrified of going out to get food because few are taking the shelter is place seriously there and the hospitals are overwhelmed. I’m sad for my son who cannot go on the playground that he finally has gotten brave enough to climb on. My son who can’t see his grandmother or grandfather in person after seeing them very frequently for his entire life to date. My husband who misses his parents. Myself who misses being around people and the things I’d do to calm myself like window shopping at the mall and going to a coffee shop and listening to the cacophony of conversation around me. Everyone who has an ill family member, or who worries they soon might. I mourn a time of not having to think any of this. It was only a few weeks ago. And if turning 36 didn’t make me feel like I’ve turned the corner into my mid life, this sudden shift into calm chaos certainly does.
life with interest 