#Greetings from Ground Zero

So, it’s Day 13 in the Mostly-Self-Isolated G-W household and unbelievably no acts of violence have occurred.  Good news.

I worked a shift at the NW Flower and Garden Festival Wednesday, February 26^th and again on Saturday, February 29^th.  If my sniffles, scratchy throat, and occasional cough came from anywhere, it is most likely from this event (to clarify – if I have been dealing with a mild case of the virus, this is likely where I caught it).  By the following Wednesday, March 4^th, I was heading home from the office on my way to isolation in a thankfully forward-thinking moment.

I participated in a conference call on the way home that I was woefully unprepared for, believing, erroneously, that it had been canceled, joining more than 20 minutes late, and distressing all our partners with my uncharacteristically blunt assessment of how my organization saw the future of this endeavor.  I was distracted and unprofessional.  Major clean up on aisle Oops in the following days.

By the next morning, I was in total pre-dystopian future mode.  I headed back into the city for my therapy appointment and then to a what-must-seem-laughably-calm Costco.  I picked up what I came for – hadn’t planned on TP and there was none – and headed home where I spent the evening thinking about what an apocalyptic pantry should have and ordering it on Amazon – again, at the tip of the spear of the online-buying community.  Many of my purchases were scooping up the last of the item on offer.  For the record, I did not over-buy/hoard.

By the weekend, we had 20 lbs of rice (Costco), boxes of pasta, tins of chicken and tuna, pasta sauce, pesto, and various beans.  Also tortillas.  Because my husband is addicted to quesadillas.  (thanks, Curt).

Then I turned to the garden.  Well, we were the lucky ones with 5 acres and raised gardens both still producing from last year (kale and chard) and beds ready for this spring’s seeds.  And we had a greenhouse.  Let’s do this thing. 

So, today is March 16^th.  I feel quietly relieved for being out in front of this – that is not to say that I have this nailed.  If supply chains are truly disrupted for a long time, I’m in the tub with everyone else.  But I have planted over 200 seeds of a variety of food crops, and I have strategized with my also-planner daughter 2+ hours away and together we got HER household ready and steady for the long haul. 

They have beans, they have rice, (and yes TP – it took a voyage).  Protein (“don’t knock spam, Mom”), and 200 lbs of flour (“thank god you taught me how to make bread, Mom – I can make 400 loaves with what we have on hand and by keeping our sourdough alive”).  I can sleep.  She’s got this.  She’ll be OK. 

I tell her to tell her roommates that no one is getting evicted if their jobs dry up.  We’re all in this for the long haul.  Stick together.  We’ll get through it.  You have me, I tell her.  I’m a week ahead of you – I will tell you what to look for, what to do.  Lean on me.  She went to Costco late last week and reported it was fine.  I said, you won’t be able to get in next week.  Think through what you need.  Order now.  She did.

Did I mention that I caretake for my 97 year old mom who, at this point, is probably 80 pounds?   Technically, we are all high-risk.  Me, with my asthma, my husband who turns 61 next month and had a heart attack 18+ months ago.  And mom.

We’ve put a lot in place over the past 15 years to ensure her old age would be gentle, loving, and enjoyable.  And we succeeded.  Until now.  She went into hospice late November, but then responded so well she got healthy(ish) again.  Just in time to be a major complicating factor in our household’s response to the virus.

That sounds horrid, referring to my mom as a complicating factor.  It sounds like I don’t love and honor and cherish her.  But I do.  So, so much.  But there’s simply no denying the reality that having in your midst and under your care and decision-making framework a person who statistically is almost certain to contract (caregivers going patient-to-patient arrive here almost daily) and die from this disease is complicating and heartbreaking in more ways than may be obvious.

So, day by day.  My husband and I have come to grips, maybe, with the reality that she will probably succumb to CoronaVirus, and it would have been something else soon anyway.  We try to work in separate corners of the house while we are WFH for the foreseeable future so we don’t start snarking on every perceived slight. I get out in the sun for as much time as humanly possible, with my laptop or without, and we navigate pre-existing family drama as best we can b/c: Life.

We are very, very fortunate.  So many are in way more vulnerable positions than we are.  In the coming days, when I feel more confident that I am not suffering a mild version of this disease and thus am a liability, I will think through how to be an asset to my local and broader community.

Greetings from ground zero.  Thanks for reading.  I’ll keep you posted.

PS - our Great Dane doesn't understand why mom and dad are home all the time, but who gives a crap?