Living in the time of pandemic: COVID-19 (83)
January 3, 2022
Year 2 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 2, Day 288: In the spirit of caring about the little things we have, I’m a bit sad that I’ve finally worn holes through my blue socks. They’re the socks that PiC gave me ten or so years ago, and they’ve been good socks. They’ll be missed.
I also discovered the limits of our plastic ziplock bags. We’ve been using some of these for almost 7 years, and I put them back into rotation for the last time this week. I put my thumb through the side of two of the oldest bags. Whoops! We have stretched their lives as long as we could, though, and I’m proud that we are teaching JB not treat plastic bags as disposable either. I know on the grand scale this doesn’t matter but it matters to me that we make an effort to get the most use out of everything we have and not just cycle through waste thoughtlessly.
Year 2, Day 289: JB (and I do too) count every little get together with family or friends as another Christmas. There have been a lot. We’re masked, vaccinated, and running an air purifier for every possible encounter, and we’ve been rapid testing, but I’m still antsy so have been looking for PCR tests for days. I don’t want to be irresponsible sending JB to school if they’re somehow an asymptomatic carrier!
I finally lucked out and got appointments for all of us next week which is later than I wanted but at least it’s earlier in the week than what I was finding last week.
Year 2, Day 290: Our friend has passed. I’d been holding my breath going into Christmas Day and then again after when we didn’t hear anything. The moment I forgot to hold it, we got the news.
I was grieving coming up to this point and now I just feel hollow. 9 losses in the last twelve months.
I’m glad we were able to hold her hand one last time. I’m glad she was able to ask for a kiss and be delighted by it. I’m glad she was well loved and she knew it. But I’m so mad that we lost her so soon. I’m so mad we lost so many this year too soon.
Year 2, Day 291: It’s NYE tomorrow and once upon a time, we’d have plans to go to a good friend’s home for a rocking good and silly time with a bunch of close friends. There’d be glitter, drinks, snacks, more glitter, music and lots of comradery.
We’re all still friends but the times and our lives have changed dramatically. PiC and I will be glad to be tucked up in bed as early as can be managed because no infant / toddler of mine cares if we’re sleep deprived parents. They’re going to be up and babbling for all they’re worth at the crack of dawn.
*****
My HCW relatives are reporting that omicron is massively affecting their work life and I feel so badly for them.
Year 2, Day 292: I’d forgotten about the fireworks for New Year’s Eve. Bit silly to forget but I spotted tweets about KB Spangler giving her dog CBD treats to help with the fireworks fear. We have some leftover from Seamus’s arthritis days so I slipped Sera a couple. While it’s been a long day for all of us and she’s probably just tired to begin with, I think it’s helped a lot. We had a lot of illegal fireworks going off far too close for comfort but she stayed snug in her bed, dozing peacefully and more irritated by my constant checking and tucking in than anything.
On that note, it was a really really long day and I was feeling it deeply. My CFS tends to express itself as cold symptoms which are so helpfully also now omicron symptoms whee so while I am generally pretty sure the neverending headache and the sore throat are on the verge of collapse fatigue related, it still hovers in the back of my mind that I may have caught something and I’m going down. But also my face hurts and I’m dizzy and those two are generally ultra-fatigue symptoms rather than sick symptoms.
I did my best to catch rest periods even if I didn’t manage to nap during them.
I’m so sorry for your loss, and all your losses these past months.
It seems a bit jarring to change topics, but stop by grumpy rumblings some time to claim your 2021 most commenting commenter prize.
Thank you, and thanks for the bit of goodness.
I’m so sorry for your friend. That’s just awful news.
Thank you, it really is.
It is so hard to lose a good friend, even when you know it’s coming. I’ve been taking the child of my recently deceased friend to the dog park with our dog Prewash, to give their mom a bit of a break. (I can’t fathom what it must be like to suddenly be a widow with an ADHD kiddo).
Being with the child is all kinds of joy/pain at the same time. Child, seeing photos in the hallway of the math building: “that’s my dad!” Me: “yes, yes that is. That’s his picture.” child: “Are all those people dead?” Me: “No, the rest of them still work here.” Child: “Can I hold the dog’s leash? Prewash wants me to hold the leash”. Me: [whiplash].
It is terribly hard, expected or not.
I’m so glad you’re available and willing to take your friend’s kiddo out, and field those questions. I think it’s really damaging for kids when they’re isolated and sheltered from the idea of death, it’s so much harder to cope in a healthy way.
The conversation reminds me of talking to JB 🤣 The switch to and from death happens absolutely seamlessly in our conversations and you usually don’t see it coming!