Category: Coronavirus

Existing

Ever since Inauguration Day I have been in a funk. I had been so crazed and consumed about what was going on politically since Labor Day that it occupied any down time that existed. And the fact that I may not have enjoyed what I was hearing from day to day was irrelevant.

Now that a new administration is in place, I have stopped following, watching, and obsessing over the news because I really do hate politics. What’s the difference between now and then, you may ask? The difference is my previous obsession had nothing to do with politics. It had everything to do with me feeling unsafe in my own country with a demagogue doing everything he could to hold onto power and sow division, in addition to not having a government that had a clue about how to address the raging COVID spread.

Now that those concerns have been alleviated, I am no longer obsessed. I keep tabs by watching the newsfeeds that cross my phone apps, and choose to dive into whatever strikes me, which hasn’t been a lot. So all of a sudden, I have a void to fill with little to replace it. Instead, I have been very introspective, which is rarely good. The byproduct of all my deep thought is this: we aren’t living, we are existing. It sucks beyond belief, and keeps sucking more with each passing day.

For me, this is about enjoying life and having shit to look forward to. You could argue that we do have something to look forward now that there is a vaccine and a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel that isn’t a speeding sixteen wheeler. That is difficult however, at least for me, because we have had to live in isolation for the last eleven months to stay healthy. Each passing week feels like a month, and while we are on the downhill side of this, I am sick and tired of the waiting.

We haven’t had much personal connection with human beings outside the family. Instead we Zoom or Skype, and while that is better than nothing, it isn’t the same. I have been working from home exclusively during this span, and while I have taken to it more than I thought I would, all that family closeness can get on one’s nerves. We are all experiencing similar things, are on edge, grumpy as hell, and quick to show our frustration, which often comes out as anger. Patience has become a scarce commodity.

Unlike my son, who loves nature and the outdoors, I can’t hike in the woods, go exploring, or even take long walks because of my physical limitations. Travel and vacations are non-starters, so all I have left is television, reading, computer games and my imagination.

I was never a big TV guy to being with, and there isn’t much good left on Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, Peacock, or any of those platforms because we’ve watched all the good stuff and there is little to replace it. Winter sports only provide so much diversion, and even those can’t be relied upon because the virus keeps upsetting the schedule and postponing games. Baseball is at least two months away if not more. Reading requires motivation and enthusiasm, both of which are in short supply. So does writing, and the novel has therefore been a slow go.

And far as my imagination is concerned, it isn’t very fertile, otherwise the novel would be a lot further along than it is. My powers of observation remain strong and could be used to my creative benefit, but the only epiphanies I have had been are mundane and self-absorbed.

For example, I have observed that the knee on my bad leg is swollen and misshapen, probably because my gait changed a long time ago and my foot never points forward, but at an angle. I have observed that the hair on my legs, of which there used to be a lot, is gone. I have also observed that my skin has become paper thin because it cuts easily and bleeds like hell when it does. For example, two nights ago as I was getting ready to take a shower, I noticed a big splotch of dried blood that was the size of a silver dollar on my shin, and I had no idea what caused it or that it had even occurred. When I cleaned it up there were two wounds that looked like punctures, but I don’t remember hitting myself or banging into something, and this isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened. I have since concluded that the hair and skin must be the result of all the heavy duty MS drugs I have taken and continue to take.

This then leads to me wonder what the consequences are going to be resulting from the fact I have suspended treatments two months longer than normal because I can’t do those AND get the vaccine. Will this allow the symptoms to progress, and if so will the changes become permanent? I don’t think like that when I’m busy and engaged.

In hindsight, one of the reasons I let my hair and beard grow was because it was something new and gave me something to be focused upon and be entertained by. But like everything else during this shit show, both got too unruly and unmanageable. My mother-in-law told K that I looked like Father Time, for God’s sake. So I hacked the beard off but was at a quandary about what to do with the hair because I didn’t want to go to a salon. I finally said fuck it, and had K cut it. She did a great job too. The end result is hair that is the shortest is has been since I went to basic training over forty years ago. On the plus side, everyone says I look ten years younger.

As rosy as the future looks compared to eleven months ago, it is mentally draining trying to stay upbeat and optimistic, and this is coming from a guy whose glass is always half full.

Thank God for work! I am lucky as hell that my work situation has not been compromised or interrupted in the slightest. If I didn’t have that, I don’t know what I would do, other than freak out about keeping the house and supporting the family. I realize many are in that unfortunate situation, worrying about food and shelter every minute of every day. So in that regards I feel silly about complaining or being maudlin because all my stuff is superficial and selfish by comparison.

See, the optimistic, glass-half full, things will be better, don’t worry-be happy guy still exists. Still, this shit can’t end soon enough! And when it does, I want to throw the biggest, longest, most outrageous, anything goes celebration that lasts an entire weekend.

Everyone is invited!

Managing Boredom

Here is my typical week: Monday through Friday, wake up at 5:15, roll out of bed, make coffee and something to eat, then open the laptop and start working by 5:30. Take an hour lunch between 1 and 2, then work until 4 or so. Then it is time to head downstairs to work out before heading back upstairs to set the table and help get dinner ready. Once dinner is over, any remaining food is put into the fridge, the dishes are placed in the dishwasher, the counters and stoves are cleaned and the garbage taken out.  If there is nothing else to do, which is usually the case, I’ll take a shower then, depending on the time, fiddle with my I-Pad or watch TV until around 9 before brushing my teeth and heading to the bedroom. If there is something interesting on the tube I’ll watch a little while longer before nodding off, otherwise off to dreamland I go, only to wake up the next morning and repeat the same exact thing.

Saturday is pretty much the same, other than the fact I don’t get up as early. The mornings are spent grocery shopping followed by chores, and those are usually done by Noon. The rest of the day and all of Sunday is is spent trying to stay busy or helpful. I do most of my blogging on weekends, which helps, and so does the NFL, particularly if the Sunday games are any good.  Otherwise I’ll fiddle with my I-Pad or hang out with K, trying to find something decent to watch.

How bored have I become? I’m now getting eight hours of sleep at night during the week instead the typical of getting five or six. Dreaming is often more stimulating and entertaining than reality, so perhaps this is a situation where escaping reality is actually heathier because I am getting more rest.

We have been into our new entrenched reality for over six months, and it has become very old. I’ve become a hermit, venturing outside of my cocoon of safety only to get groceries, get my treatments, and drive somewhere for the occasional errand. Personal contact with anyone outside the immediate family is rare, replaced by Skyping or Zooming.  The new normal is a dull, sobering and boring existence. Managing boredom has become an ongoing challenge. 

Fortunately, I was raised during a time where there weren’t a gazillion channels on television, there were no computers or internet, and we had to find creative ways to occupy ourselves or risk being put to work by our parents. I  would therefore venture outside to find a friend to play with or find a discreet place to read to avoid suffering that fate.  This kind of training, if you will, has better prepared me for dealing with the isolation we now face than most kids and young adults, who I really empathize with.

I can only use relatives and colleagues as an example, but I am so glad that I don’t have school-aged children anymore. I would certainly welcome a little boredom in my life if that weren’t the case, but I’d wouldn’t trade my boredom for the insanity parents face today. I can’t imagine what it would be like trying to balance work, being a part-time home school teacher, and managing the emotions of children filled with energy and the need to unleash it in a world where options are limited at best.

Then there are young adults Nidan’s age (22). After he was furloughed from work, he used his love of the outdoors and exploring the woods to his advantage, and made daily treks that lasted hours to help break up the monotony. This solitary adventure keeps him safe, but still only occupies a sliver of the day.  He also made the smart move to continue his college education, so the classwork chews up some more time, but there is still a void that need to be filled. And like anyone his age, there is the desire to have a meaningful relationship, but how can anyone create that in today’s environment? He has the unfortunate burden of living with two immunocompromised people, which he takes seriously. He is trying to be patient, but he’s chafing at the bit, and who can blame him? It wouldn’t be so bad if the end was in site, but we are all fatigued and impatient about having to had to navigate a life where one breath can potentially kill you or those you love, with no end in sight. Maybe now that Trump and some of his inner circle have become infected, the light bulb goes off and we can actually move towards more of a coordinated, national response to the pandemic, but I am afraid that is wishful thinking.

There is a certain psychology necessary to address boredom. Besides needing to convince one’s self that this will eventually pass, we have to figure out ways to enjoy simple things that we perhaps took for granted, or start new hobbies. My physical limitations prevent me from being able to do a lot of things around the house and yard, so I have to search for more cerebral things besides playing card games and Scrabble on the I-Pad. My agent recently asked me about perhaps starting another novel. I actually have almost one hundred pages of written text on something I started a year or two ago in addition to a series of short stories I wrote that can be used as the nucleus of a new novel. I looked at both again after that conversation and got a little excited about resuming either because they both have promise. Continuing one or the other would certainly occupy my time, but the motivation to sustain the effort needed to do it isn’t there yet. Maybe that will change when it starts to freeze outside.

I’ve always been good at drawing and painting too, even though I haven’t done either in decades, so diving back into that could be an option. It’s a solitary endeavor that chews up time, and we all need things like that not only to make the days more tolerable, but to keep ourselves from going stir-crazy.  

Finding and embracing things like that helps prevent us all from scurrying around aimlessly, like a hamster on one of those metal wheels, their little legs pumping furiously while they go nowhere.  This is critical for me because even though a summer where more than 90% of my time was spent mostly isolated at home is over, there was the drama regarding the house sale that overwhelmed everything else and made it seem less onerous. We could also spend time together outside as a family unit, and occasionally have a close friend or relative over provided we kept our distance and wore masks.  But the colder weather is coming and that option will soon close.  

The onset of a colder climate will initiate a period of time that will be long and dreary, not to mention potentially dangerous. The holidays usually offer a respite, but how can this year’s season be anything but comparatively sterile and underwhelming? At least we are fortunate to be able to experience them in whatever fashion we do with all our friends and relatives around. Not everyone can say that.

By the time the weather turns warmer, there will hopefully have been a change in out national approach to the pandemic and we will have managed to control the spread better, not to mention more promising news on the vaccine front. But until then I’m braced for another six months that may feel like six years. Managing the boredom is going to determine how tolerable it is, not to mention maintaining one’s sanity.  It’s going to take some ingenuity to navigate, but what choice is there?

    Resilience

    resilience

    One of the most underappreciated aspects of human nature is our ability to adapt. While some folks have an easier time with this than others, the truth is we find our own way through challenges and roadblocks, eventually adjusting to them in a way that feels right for us. How would we otherwise cope with the world we live in now?

    Seriously, does the life we once had seem real to you anymore? I certainly remember what that life used to be like, but it feels like such a long time ago that it happened in a different lifetime to another person. What I remember more than anything else is the process I went through to get to the place I am at right now.

    I vividly remember the fear that existed when this was all new. I was a news junkie, watching the virus track from China to the Middle East and Italy before it invaded our shores. I never bought the supposition that this was all a fabrication of the media or a hoax. The apprehension about what would happen was the great unknown, and was in some ways worse than the reality of it being here.

    When New York City became the new Wuhan, I followed the daily briefings and looked at the maps. It was if a bomb hit that region of the country and with each passing day the maps showed its blast radius expanding, inching its way into our state from the southwest to the northeast. Every day, I watched with dread as the number of confirmed infections and deaths grew, especially once the totals started accumulating in our town.

    I started changing patterns of behavior by going to the grocery stores early in the mornings on Saturdays to avoid crowds. Shortly thereafter I started ordering them on-line and having them delivered. Nobody outside of immediate family was allowed inside the house,  and we stayed put in the oasis we call home.

    Three months have since passed, and while the concern is still there, the shock and fear is not. The new reality is entrenched, the cards have been dispersed, and we’re playing the hand we’ve been dealt. I have the utmost respect, and in some cases awe, for the situation we are in, but I am no longer intimidated by it. I am not afraid of going out, and truly believe that as long as I adhere to the three pillars of wellness (wearing a mask, social distancing and hand washing), I’ll be okay.  I’m in charge of my destiny now rather than feeling like a puppet on a string, and I suspect most people feel the same way.

    I have are no illusions about the future. We are running a marathon, and we have completed maybe a quarter of the race. This pandemic is going to have its ebbs and flows, and we are going to confront times that are worse than what we have already experienced, but the bloom is off the rose as far as the novelty of it is concerned.

    We have all adapted in different ways. We may not agree with how others have adapted (or in some cases ignored), but we’ve all found our sweet spot. It’s the beauty of our nature: observe, adapt, survive, and hopefully thrive. This process will continue to evolve along those lines until this is over.

    We’ll never return to the place we were before all this started, and it may take the better part of two years before a vaccine is found. We’ll all be more aware of how germs are passed and how we can protect ourselves. This will be ingrained in our psyches for the rest of our lives, and will come in handy down the road should something similar pop up during our lifetimes.

    We should be wiser and better prepared individually and as a country should that day come, so the carnage and emotional angst isn’t as pronounced. We’re usually good about learning from our mistakes, so there is a lot learning we can apply going forward if we have the collective wisdom and will to do so.

    It’s all about being resilient, and resiliency is one of the many distinguishing features that make up the mosaic of our species. Its power allows us to navigate the enormity of what has happened and come out the other side intact.  It helped me adjust to living with a chronic illness, which is a good thing because I can’t remember what it was like to have two strong legs, or not feel like I could fall at any moment. And it has certainly helped me get from a place of devastation and fear to peace and acceptance as far as the pandemic is concerned.

    And when you think about it, what choice do we really have?

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Immunosuppressed In a COVID World

    decisions

    Being immunosuppressed in a COVID world definitely presents complications the average bear doesn’t have to navigate. MS is particularly tricky, because the reason I have the condition is my autoimmune system is on overdrive. In theory that means I should be more protected than most. After all, in order to treat the disease, the goal is to put the immune system to sleep so the body stops cannibalizing itself.

    Once I started taking the intravenous meds over ten years ago, I assumed a suppressed immune system would mean I would catch everything known to mankind.  I would have bet everything I owned that I’d be sick with a cold , flu, or some godawful thing from Thanksgiving until Spring, but that never occurred. In fact, I can count the number of times I have been ill during this span on one hand, which I still think is odd, and I have no idea what this all means.

    The reason this is becoming an issue is because while last month’s plasma transfer provided immediate relief from the weakness and the falling, the relief only lasted ten to fourteen days. Since then, I have been struggling with my balance and ability to move around. I literally have no strength in my ankle, my leg feels like it has no bone in it from just above the knee down, and the weakness gets worse with each passing week.

    So while the plasma transfer helped, it appears my condition has regressed. The only thing I have done differently in terms of treatment (other than going two months without doing anything instead of the normal one)  is that I suspended receiving the Ocrevus infusion that was due in March. It has been over nine months since my last infusion, and the gap between treatments is supposed to be six.

    So my dilemma is to whether to bite the bullet and get the damn thing. This is not the first time I have stopped taking something to my ultimate detriment, and while I cannot clinically prove the infusion has been helpful, my not getting it certainly fits a historical pattern. But I know from lab test results that this drug shuts down cells that fight infections, and that doesn’t sound like a smart thing to do.

    What is most irritating about being in a high at-risk group is that you have to think about and analyze everything. This is cumbersome because nobody knows if the decision they are about to make is going to be the correct one. I go through a line of thought that asks if the decision I am about to make is balanced and thought out or impulsive. Is it selfish? It is overly conservative? Is it rational or based on fear? Is it what is best for me? Is it what is best for my family? The process can be draining.

    For instance, do I avoid any kind of crowd, even if I wear a mask, if I get the infusion? Do I stay home and not visit anybody or have anybody visit me? Do I live like the boy in the bubble? Or do I throw caution to the wind and say fuck it! I was taking a lot more immunosuppressing meds than I am now and rarely got sick. Why should this be any different?

    Well, the difference is the potential consequence, which could be tragic for myself and those around me. That is the rub. One bad decision and the dirt nap can become a real possibility.

    While I don’t have any plans for the summer, I like to have options. A group of good friends from out of state have talked about getting together this summer, and while I’d really like to do that I’m not sure how smart that would be if I go ahead with this. I’d also like to go back to a restaurant at some point in time, and be able to visit with local friends. Part of me says why worry if the necessary precautions are taking. Then again, there is that nagging little voice that whispers, “what if?”

    My gut tells me to get the infusion sooner than later. I would like some assurances, but I know there are no guarantees. I suspect that I will be reduced to a prisoner in my own house for a minimum of three months if I get the stuff, and I really don’t want that.

    But what good is having options if you can’t walk more than ten feet without holding onto or grabbing something? What good is freedom if it means a complete loss of mobility and a quicker date with the wheelchair. Is the risk worth the reward? I’m thinking not, but we are heading into the best time of the year, which would make my confinement seem exponentially longer.

    Do I risk being completely disabled or risk being completely dead? I obviously don’t like either choice, so the middle ground is to get the drugs then hide from the world. That is the sober reality of the situation.

    I’m waiting to hear to see what my neurologist has to say about my quandary. Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out how I’d cope with the restrictions I know the infusion would place upon me. One option that crossed my mind is to increase my MMJ intake and live in a comfortably numb state, except when I am working or sleeping, until a vaccine is developed and my sentence is over.

    Now there is a thought!

     

     

     

     

    Dear Diary

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    Dear Diary

    So here it is, my 62nd birthday. It took forever to get here as the long, scary, AWFUL year that was 2020 trudged along at a snails pace. Unfortunately 2021 didn’t start out as any bargain either.

    The new year wasn’t the cause for celebration I once hoped it would be. The virus was still thriving because people got impatient, the Feds didn’t listen to the science, and we reopened too soon. Long story short, over 500,000 people in this country are dead and the numbers have only recently started to plateau. At least we have finally started to come together as a nation, but what a torturous path it was to get here.

    I was a kid in 1968 and had no understanding of how torn apart this country really was. It wasn’t until I watched some of the historical retrospectives on that year that I fully understood and appreciated the turmoil and divide that plagued us. I was happy not to have been an adult during that time because I would have been freaking out, fearing for our future, and gave thanks that I would never have to live through anything like that. Of course, the second half of 2020 made 1968 look like a walk in the park.

    When roughly half the states ignored the scientists pleas and reopened in June, the results were actually pretty good for a short while. The naysayers and those who embraced the fake news mantra puffed their chests out and screamed “I told you so.” Trump’s popularity skyrocketed, and the economy started showing signs of coming back.

    Then the second surge hit. It ravaged Middle America and the rural population areas before spreading outward to both coasts. Even though a good chunk of Trump’s  cabinet got sick, the President typically insisted it was all a hoax designed to make him look bad. When the Northeast, the Mid Atlantic and the West coast continued to resist opening, and were joined by some of the states who realized the terrible mistake they had made, his “followers” took things into their own hands, and the violence that erupted far surpassed that of 1968.

    When the second surge exploded, the scientist’s fears came to fruition: hospitals got overrun and could not meet the demand, in part because our testing capability was worse than when the initial surge hit, and because the second surge took out a lot of our front line healthcare workers as the PPE shortage forced clinicians have to wear what they had longer than they did the first time around.  Meanwhile, our food supply chain collapsed, and unemployment got as high as 40%. Only recently has it started to decline. It has dropped to 34% and continues to decrease.

    When Trump and the Republicans got crushed in November, he claimed the results fraudulent, which wasn’t a surprise since he started beating that drum during the summer, saying he was afraid of massive voter fraud designed to remove him from office. Insisting he was cheated, he refused to accept the results, the followers hit the streets and the second wave of violence hit. Thank God the Supreme Court ruled against him, but he still didn’t change his tune until he, Pence and President-Elect Biden got the virus.  We really didn’t start coming together as a nation, however, until Biden died shortly before the inauguration (Trump and Pence survived, barely). Thankfully Biden’s passing did not occur until after the electoral college formally cast its votes, and the results became official and irrevocable. Who knows what might have happened otherwise. The country has rallied around the Harris/Warren administration, and I think we are finally starting to heal.

    As for me, we still haven’t sold the house, and can’t even rent it. If this goes on for another three months I am going to have to dip into the retirement funds, but at this point I could really give a shit. I’ve lost close to a dozen friends, colleagues and relatives to the disease, so the fact that Nidan, K and I have survived is all that counts. The fact that I am among the lucky 66% still working is a blessing too. Things could be infinitely worse.

    You know diary, I always thought I was lucky to be born when I was. I mean, I got to experience The Beatles, saw man walk on the moon, witnessed the Red Sox win not only one World Series but four, saw the turn of the new century and so many technological advances it makes your head spin. But never in my life did I ever expect to witness what I have these past nine months, when the dark side of human nature was unleashed. I even bought a gun when the looting got really bad, for goodness sakes. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that would ever happen.

    At least the population got so pissed and disgusted that there finally seems to be enough momentum to pass Congressional term limits. Cover themselves in glory they did not, and the electorate seem firm in their conviction that any house rep or senator who votes against it will serve for only one term.  It’s a pity it took something so catastrophic to make this happen.

    I am cautiously optimistic the page has been turned, and am looking forward to being able to go where I please without fear, not to mention being able to watch professional sports some time in the near future. I don’t know what VE or VJ days were like at the end of World War Two, but I can’t imagine a bigger celebration than the one that will occur when the vaccine that has finally been developed is rolled out in a few days. 

    So enough of the maudlin shit, diary! Life as we knew it appears to be finally returning, so a huge HORRAY is in order, and it is time to turn the page.  Having said that, it’s silly to assume life will be the same as it was before the pandemic hit. How could it after all the death, carnage and animosity? We have all been touched by this in some fashion, and are forever changed as a result. Only time will tell if it is for the better or the worse.

     

    The Greatest Generation is Rolling In Their Graves

    scream

    Allow me to vent.

    “The Greatest Generation” was the moniker coined for those folks who grew up during the depression, endured The Dust Bowl and also endured World War Two, either as soldiers or citizens supporting them on the home front. These resilient people endured hardships and deprivations none of us can imagine. I can guess what they might think if they were here to witness what is occurring today among those who are demonstrably chafing against the states closing down and some of the rules they implemented regarding social distancing and facemasks.

    I’m all for people having their own thoughts and opinions about anything. Everyone is entitled to their own belief system regarding what the government should or shouldn’t do that encroaches on our lives.

    Having said that, I am nauseated by some of the stories I’ve read about citizens taking things into their own hands to protest what the states have done in an effort to protect its citizens as a whole.

    Shooting people? Killing people? Resorting to violence? Literally getting in citizens’ and law enforcement personnel faces and sometimes spitting in in them? Opening and licking ice cream containers in grocery stores? When did this kind of stuff ever become acceptable?

    Then there is the stupid stuff, like some guy from Long Island suing the University of Connecticut because their child isn’t getting the benefit of the full college experience. Really? Like it’s UCONN’s fault.

    We’ve been at this for less than two months. Can you imagine if these people had to live through the dust bowl, or had to endure rationing for almost four years to support a war effort? They’d lose their minds. Forget riots. Armageddon would be more like it.

    I know, I know. It was a different time. Attitudes were different and so were how we were raised as children. But still, when has it become okay for anyone to express an opinion in such a way that it endangers the lives of others? When did this sense of entitlement take hold?

    Like I said, anyone can have their views about the pandemic, and what the states are doing.  But how about taking some responsibility and having accountability for your actions? These folks take none. Their attitudes are similar to those of the White House, who by not taking any leadership role is in a position where they can avoid responsibility for whatever happens (unless it is good, of course), leaving it up to each and every governor to decide what is best for their state. That way they can be blamed when things go tits up by reopening too soon. If the economy tanks there is little chance the incumbent gets re-elected, so the welfare of people be dammed. Let’s get the economy rolling again. Talk about having one’s priorities in order. Don’t they pay attention to the science?

    Yes, these infringements on our lives suck. I’m getting impatient like everyone else. I hate being cooped up at home, and hate having to wear a mask and gloves when I venture out. I hate the shortages and the fact that so many people are struggling. But I believe in the science and believe it is all for the common good. And I would rather be inconvenienced than sick or dead, or have those I love in that position.

    To say these developments are worrisome and discouraging are an understatement. I fear that throwing caution to the wind and reopening before more testing is available and all the trends are pointing in the right direction is a recipe for disaster. There are over 3,000 new cases a day of citizens testing positive for the virus in this country, for goodness sake. It is starting to hit rural America too. What will happen to this figure, in addition to fatalities by reopening prematurely? It will certainly increase, but by how much. Double? Triple? Will hospitals become so overrun that they won’t care for people above a certain age or present certain symptoms? Will the spread of the disease impact nurses and doctors so much there aren’t enough of them to handle the incoming surge? These are all fair and legitimate questions, ones I fear have more truth than not.

    I’d rather be cautious and err on the side of opening up too late than too early. The consequences are too dear.

    So what do we call this generation or group of people suing everyone and engaging in or inciting violence? The Whiners? The Whiniest Generation? The Its About Me Generation? The I don’t Give A Shit About Anyone Else Generation?

    It’s sad, and I’m afraid it is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.

     

    My Shrinking World

    World

    I’ve been working exclusively from home for over a month. It doesn’t feel that long, but in other ways it feels like it has been forever.

    I’m fortunate to work for a very forward thinking healthcare system. A few years ago our department leadership saw the day when we would run out of office space, and also the need to be flexible in terms of where people work to make itself an attractive place for college grads entering the work force. Thus emerged the Alternate Work Arrangement initiative, which was the catalyst to getting folks wired so they could work from home. It certainly has served us well when the virus hit and we had to transition a lot of people from the office to their homes.

    While I was never an advocate for or desired working home full time, I did dip my toe into the water by working home one day a week. I enjoyed not having the daily commute where the round trip took between an hour and a half to two hours. I also enjoyed rolling out of bed, making some coffee, and working in my sweats. I didn’t have to get up as early to get to the office at my desired time, and finished the work day at home a lot earlier too.

    When the reality of what was coming was irrefutable, I was glad to have been set up for a remote location and have taken to it like a duck to water. The only downside was that my world began to shrink considerably. But I have to admit,  I enjoyed spreading my stuff out on the kitchen table, and enjoyed the casualness of working from home. I still do.

    However, the recent flood forced me to reorganize the work place at home because my mother in law is living in the big open area that includes the living room, where she sleeps, and the kitchen. I removed a table and the rolling office chair that went with it from downstairs, deposited it into a  corner of my bedroom,  and parked my laptop upon it.

    Every morning now, I literally crawl out of bed, throw on some sweats, brush my teeth, shuffle over to the kitchen to make my coffee, then head back to the bedroom to pull the table and chair away from the corner and get to work. This takes all of maybe seven minutes.

    It’s a more comfortable set-up, and the view, which you can see from the picture that leads this post, is much nicer than anything I can look at from the office back at the mother ship, but my shrinking world has become even smaller. Other than occasionally going to the bathroom and kitchen, I am there from about 5:30 in the morning until 4:00 in the afternoon. I enjoy the new house and my new work space, but sometimes it feels like a glorified prison.

    The psychology behind self-isolation is a weird thing. It’s a necessary evil, but we are more alone than ever. I don’t know about you, but being alone with my thoughts isn’t always a good thing, especially now. How can you not wonder where this will all lead, and what things will look like on the other side? When this all started, I firmly believed, and still do, that someone who is near and dear would perish from it, and there was a good possibility who this person was would turn out to be a complete surprise. So far, I know one person who I believe has the virus (not tested but has symptoms and is self-quarantined). Thankfully, he seems to be doing well. I have not been near him since that time. A good friend of ours who is a nurse was exposed at work due to a colossal management fuck-up that from the way she describes it is negligent at best and borderline criminal at worst. K and I worry about her.

    It is hard not to feel alone even when I venture to the store. Social distancing requires us to give everyone a wide berth, so if I see someone I don’t know heading in my direction I turn the other way. And when I see someone I do know, I make sure I’m at least ten feet away from them. How can anyone feel connected to anything under those circumstances? When I do go to the store, it’s at 6AM on Saturday mornings, when practically nobody is there, so even these chance meetings are infrequent.

    Most of the news is bad, so I have sworn off watching news programming of any kind, getting my information via the print media instead, which only creates a different kind of isolation. Because of the MS and how it affects my walking, I can’t go for an easy outside stroll, or visit state parks, the beaches or nature preserves. I’m beginning to understand and appreciate the plight of many with MS who have had lived like this for a long time because their disabilities make it hard to do otherwise.

    I can’t explain why this came as a surprise, but isolation is also boring as hell, so I’m trying to cope in a variety of ways. Other than pouring myself into my work more than usual, I am also working out a lot more. I try to get outside at least once a day to breathe real air. The good stuff on Netflix, Amazon and all those services is really limited, even thought there is tons of stuff to see. I’ve refused to watch dramas because there is too much drama in real life as it is, and there are no sports. So I’ve reverted to watching a lot of documentaries.

    I’m also drinking more. Not a lot mind you, and certainly nothing to be concerned about, but where before that was something that was reserved for weekends, a can of beer or glass or wine has become an every night kind of thing, along with the MMJ. On weekends I’ll indulge and have a vodka (or whiskey) and seltzer (or two). And there have been nights where I have made sure I was numb to anything and everything.

    Whatever has been preying on my mind never seems as terrible with a buzz-on. It also helps me stop thinking about shit I don’t want to think about, at least most of the time. It is hard to think about happy things when the world around you is turning into shit, so this becomes an emotional crutch.

    I’m sure I’m not the only one who does this, so I can’t help but wonder if there going to be a lot more people with substance abuse issues compared to before this started.

    Life has become routine and predictable: Get up, work, work out, have dinner, clean up, take a shower, have something to drink and toke/eat, watch television, then get up the next day and do the same exact thing. Just like the subject of Jackson Browne’s “The Pretender,” I sometimes feel like a happy idiot, struggling for the legal tender.

    On weekends, add house cleaning, whatever outside stuff that needs to be done, and a trip to the store, but those diversions don’t change the fact that we have become solitary, secluded beings out of necessity, and it isn’t fun.

    Each day and week that goes by deepens the feeling of my detachment from the world. At least I have a spouse that I adore and can hang with, but that doesn’t prevent the feeling of separation from everything I know from building and deepening every day and week this continues. I can’t imagine how this will feel in another month or two.

    All we can fall back on is that we are doing the right thing. The short-term sacrifice will help hasten the spread of this thing and save lives in the process (unless the Federal Government continues to downplay the severity of this), so how can anyone bitch about that?

    Still, I sometimes feel like the incredible shrinking man, whose only connection to the world outside of my family unit are the words on texts or the voices on the phone. It’s a poor substitute for the real thing, but it’s better then nothing.

    We will all be changed when this is over. Only time will tell if that is for the better or worse.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Random Thoughts 2

    writers block

    Emptying this cluttered mind of idea fragments and thoughts that have percolated the last few weeks.

    One of the many things I am fascinated about witnessing is how we as a society and culture adjust to the new reality once this is over. Think back to the World War Two era, where our citizen’s lives were dominated by this cataclysmic event for almost four years. While this episode in our history won’t last that long, I suspect it may take as long if not longer to adjust to the new normal compared to when that war was over, the soldiers came home, and reconstruction began.

    The industries that will take the longest to recover, and may never be the same, are: Sports and entertainment; the hotel/guest services industries; the various travel industries. Until a proven vaccine is created and made available to the masses, I can’t see anyone being comfortable in placing themselves among a mass of people. I’m certainly not.

    Be that as it may, we know that sports will resume at some point. But what will that look like until the vaccine is available? I think the days of all the seats being filled are gone until then. Perhaps there will be mandated gaps/spacing between seats, and food services will be suspended. Either way it will look and feel completely different. I think the basketball and hockey seasons are over, and I question how much of a baseball season is realistic. The NFL? Coin flip that it starts on time.

    It will also be interesting to see how or if the various sports unions and ownership groups play nice in the sandbox as they try to adjust salaries and compensation to account for the loss of gate revenue. I doubt you will see mega contracts that have become commonplace emerge for a few years. Mookie Betts and free agents like him are going to get screwed. They may be better off doing one year deals until this all gets sorted.

    There used to be a buffer between the emotions I felt and what I’d show, but not anymore. I find that I am much quicker to laugh, cry, or become angry than ever before. Is that just me?

    Perhaps it is because I’m more reflective and am thinking about deeper stuff as events unfold, but I’ve come up with a LOT of good writing ideas. I have at least a half dozen things I can share via this blog. It’s just a matter of taking the time to develop them. For now, I start a post, write the opening paragraph, and let it sit for future development.

    I could care less about politics right now, because I really think whatever “campaigning” occurs between now and Labor Day is a waste of time. This virus and how it plays out will dictate the election’s outcome. My only concern and frustration is that the virus issue has become a political football. Those entrenched in power are screwed if the economy is as dormant as it is now, so the pressure exists to end the distancing protocols and get people working again, which would be a disaster should that occur too soon. I mean, how good can the economy be if the virus growth explodes more than it has now , and the fatalities explode with it? Unfortunately, competing camps are getting different directives, which will make it take that much longer to reach the end of this road. In todays ultra polarized environment,  politics supersedes the common good. How sad.

    Can we please stop with the lawsuits? An attorney in Connecticut filed suit against our governor over a new requirement to wear masks in public, saying it was an infringement on an individual’s constitutional rights. Can we also stop the mass protesting about “freeing” our people and the economy? Even if you are true believers that this is all overkill, and media-driven paranoia (which I don’t) are you really willing to take that chance and put you and your loved ones at risk? Haven’t you ever heard of science? I don’t get it.

    When we do come up with a vaccine, what are we going to do about those who don’t believe in them? I can hardly wait to read the vitriol from those who feel nobody should be required or forced against their will to get the shot. An individual’s right is secondary to the common good in these situations from where I sit, so I say tie them down, give them the vaccine, and drown out the noise.

    If you had to bet everything you own on the over/under as to when this threat will over, when would that be? My bet would be November 2021. That’s a long ass time.

    Of all the little annoying things that crop up dealing with MS, putting socks on is at the top of that list. I typically do this while sitting on the side of my bed, but don’t have the flexibility I used to, especially first thing in the morning.  I can’t force the issue because if I do I’ll lean forward too far and fall off the bed (it’s happened). I have to put the left sock before the right (my bad foot/leg), because if I do the opposite, the foot slides forward and I find my body falling with it. So what is the solution? Putting them on before I go to bed.

    The planet is going to get a break this summer. With less cars on the road, factories not running at full capacity, the air quality should certainly be better as the amount of greenhouse gases released will be significantly curtailed. Cities whose skylines were hard to see due to smog should look clear and pristine by comparison. I wonder if this will have any impact at all on the severity of storms over the next two years. It certainly can’t hurt.

    I have access to Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, Xfinity on Demand and a host of other platforms that I can’t think of off the top of my head, and there is still nothing to watch, which is sad given the expense. Guess I’m going to have to give things that appear interesting a whirl, but guess there will four to five duds for every keeper. Sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it?

    I haven’t filled the gas tank in our two cars in over a month, and neither has much less than half a tank remaining. Bet I’m not the only one saving money like this without trying.

    Am I the only one who is drinking more than before?

    I was afraid that I’d gain a ton of weight while waiting out this storm, but I’ve actually lost weight. I suspect I am in the minority. It must be the stress.

    Be safe!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    My Coronabeard

    Beard

    I have never been a beard guy. Facial hair yes, as I have worn either a mustache or mustache and goatee for more than half of my adult life. But a beard? It’s never been my style.

    I grew one during the winter of my junior or senior year in college, primarily because I wanted to see what it would look like and, because I went to school in Maine, I thought it might keep my face warm during the winter semester.

    It did keep the face warm, but I got rid of it after a couple of months for several reasons. The first was because it was much redder than my hair. Not carrot top red, but I didn’t like having my hair one color and my beard another. It wasn’t a good look.

    The second reason is that my facial hair had the feel and texture of steel wool. If the color wasn’t bad enough, having a face that felt like it was encased in Brillo added to my lack of enthusiasm.

    Lastly, I simply thought I looked my better without it, and as a hormonal college student, I avoided anything that might make me look less attractive to the coeds. So off it came, never to see the light of day again. That was close to forty years ago.

    As you may remember from my last post, once I learned I would not be able to get my hair cut for the indefinite future, I vowed not to shave either, so the beard is back.  I figured, why not go for the hippie look? That was something I never had the balls to do as a teen because I was not the rebellious sort. I’m still not, but since I am working from home and we aren’t socializing, I’m curious to see how long both can get, and what that will look like.

    The hair has a loooonnnnngggg way to go before I can say I have flowing locks because I had a short cut a few weeks ago. I also wonder how “flowing” the locks will actually become. As a person in his early sixties, my hair is much thinner than it used to be, my hairline has receded a LOT, and a bald spot has emerged on the back of my head. So how long can it actually get? Will it flow and look decent, or will it look like I stuck a wet finger in a live electrical socket? I guess time will tell.

    The beard has been growing for a couple of weeks now, and it is no surprise that it is  mostly white. At least it blends better with my hair color now. And thankfully it is past the itching stage. For a couple of days it felt like I had ants crawling on my neck, and it was driving me a little cuckoo.

    There’s no doubt the decision to grow the beard was an impulsive one, but there is a definite logic behind it.

    While I would never consider myself a control freak, the element of control was the primary factor. Let’s face it. Our lives have been turned upside down and we are living in Bizzarro World. How long this lasts, and how much emotional and financial havoc it will wreak is unknown.  Hopefully, if we’re smart and take this seriously, we won’t succumb to the virus and will get past the worst of it reasonably soon. But since a quick and successful outcome depends in large part on everyone singing off the same sheet of music, which we know isn’t currently happening in The States, the truth is there is very little we can control about this situation.

    Perhaps the idea of control has always been a myth, and we were living under the illusion that we have some control over our lives and destiny, but that illusion is clearly shattered for the time being. We are adrift and, like a sailboat on the open seas in the middle of a hurricane, we are hanging on the best we can, trying not to get swept up in the maelstrom. Therefore anything we can control, no matter how minute, is a welcome respite in this out of control environment.

    That is why I chose to grow the beard. It’s my choice. I can keep it if I want, get rid of it, trim it, change its shape, and essentially do anything with it that I please. Everything about the beard is 100% within my control. It is the only thing in my life I can say that about right now. Of course, if K can’t stand it I might have to reconsider, but that might be a different story for a different time.

    The other reason for growing the beard and hair is that when this is finally over, their respective lengths and degree of unruliness will be a living testimony for how long we had to endure. Now that the United States leads the world in verified COVID 19 infections (and we’re just getting started), I suspect I’ll be growing both for a while. New York City is the epicenter of the virus, and guess what state not only borders New York and NYC, but has many residents that commute to the big apple for work?

    You guessed it! Connecticut! The southwest corner of the state, the one across the border from NYC, is getting hammered, and the virus is sweeping from west to east, mostly along the coast but its tentacles are inching north as well. We have over 1,200 confirmed cases so far, and that number doubles every two or three days. I believe I read that our state is in the top five as far as the number of infections per capita, which only fuels the belief that it will be a while before the worst is over.

    I just hope I don’t look like a geriatric Grizzly Adams when that day comes.

     

     

     

    Adjusting To The New Reality

    Yawn

    Now that I have accepted and come to terms with our new reality, the visceral fear that emerged when it became clear what we are dealing with has subsided, and I’m adapting. My priorities are in order, what is important is clear, and we are ready for the long haul that awaits.

    In some ways, I embrace the simplicity of our new daily existence, but I can already tell that the two things that will be the hardest to adjust to are the isolation and boredom that come with it.

    Maybe that is why I am calling and texting more. It’s comforting to hear familiar voices and talk about how we are and what we are doing. but it still doesn’t compensate for the fact that our worlds have shrunk and the physical human interaction we crave will not return for quite some time.  Perhaps it will never be the same.

    I was never one who thought they would enjoy working from home all of the time, and that has been proven true. Not that I’m not grateful that I can work from home, but I always thought I would feel disconnected from our team, and I was right. I enjoy what I do, and knew I enjoyed the people I work with, but never appreciated how much until now. I miss them.

    Boredom is a different animal. I’m in the house for probably 95% of the day on average. I work from home, and only venture to public places when I absolutely need something, so it is easy to get cabin fever and a little stir crazy. There is little difference now between a week day and weekend, which is really bizarre. The rebel in me wants to throw caution to the wind, give the virus the big middle finger, and live my life as though nothing has changed. It’s a nice fantasy, but I’m not stupid.

    Perhaps that is why I go outside every day for at least a little while, and why on sunny days I will get in the car and drive. It’s important to see the world and know how people are adjusting to the new normal. The one thing I learned this weekend is that while you don’t see people outside like you used to, the one place you can still find them is at the golf course.

    Boredom is also the reason why after months of inactivity, I hit the exercise equipment on most days. I like to feel my heart pumping, the sweat on my forehead, and the ache of my muscles because it makes me feel alive, and is another way to take care of and fortify my body. The results are nice too. My upper body is a little tighter, I feel more fit and I have lost seven pounds to boot!

    But other things have evolved. I’m writing more, which is never a bad thing, as another way of feeling connected. I’m evening toying with the idea of starting novel number two in earnest, but we will see how that goes.

    I’m trying to follow world events more to stay informed, but am avoiding most national network news programs because I find it depressing. Learning through print media is less sensational and dramatic, and we could all use less drama in our lives right now.

    I have also decided not to shave or cut my hair until this is over. The hair cutting decision was made for me, as all barber and hair salon establishments are considered non-essential and have closed in our state. So I figured, what the hell? Why not stop shaving too. I’m curious to see how long everything will grow, and if I can actually grow a ponytail (although I am sure K will ultimately have something to say about that). It will be interesting to see if I look like Grizzly Adams when everything is said and done. It’s a different way of documenting how long our lives were disrupted by this episode in our collective history.

    The only downside to this that my beard is almost entirely white, and it is starting to itch like a mother. The white/grey doesn’t bother me because it has been that way for a while. Having said that, I suspect that we will see everybody’s natural hair color when this is over, not to mention different hair styles.

    I’m hoping that I will come up with other quirky things like this to amuse myself and combat the boredom, and would love to know if any of you are doing something similar.

    Hey, whatever gets you through the day.

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