What day is it?
On Saturday mornings BC—Before COVID-19—I managed to get out of bed with the help of an alarm so that I’d have time to drive to church and practice organ for Sunday services and still be in time for the 8:15am Barbell class at Lifetime Fitness.
On Saturday mornings AC—After COVID-19—I don’t set an alarm. This past Saturday, I awoke with the birds and checked the time on my phone charging next to my bed—something I never did when husband Chuck was sleeping next to me. He’s now in Florida with our son Carter until further notice.
It was 7am. I slipped on my Ugg boots and while my Nespresso coffee was brewing and milk was heating and foamed, I grabbed my laptop. Then I headed back up to my bedroom, slipped off the boots, climbed in bed, propped up my pillows and wrote a couple of chapters in my book. The next time I looked at the clock it was 11:00am.
The verdict is still out whether this is a good habit or not. My iWatch periodically notified me during my mattress hours that is was time to stand. I decided I’ll indulge myself in this luxury at least one weekend morning every week of the COVID-19 lockdown.
With all this sit time, there’s a concern that like the Freshman ten that most gain the first year of college, there may be a “COVID 19” to shed after this is all over. If that’s the extent of the harm it causes to me or my family, I should be grateful, I know.
Thanks to the media, it’s far too easy to catch up on the latest statistics, the updated necessary precautions and the devastating impact of the coronavirus. I limit my exposure to the newsfeed as it tends to trigger anxiety—something I’ve been trying to avoid ever since our son Carter’s accident in November. However, I don’t want to ignore or forget the extraordinary efforts of those battling the virus and those fighting for their lives because of it.
I take in some information, follow the prescribed rules, sigh, and then keep moving on through time and virtual space.
The world-wide lockdown has rocked our daily routines; the rhythm of life has been shifted, interrupted and even erased. Because we rarely go anywhere to attend the next work day, a lesson or meeting or to purchase our next meal, we don’t bother changing clothes, even showering. One hour of the day and even one day is not significantly different than the one before. The timeline is blurred. What was once an important and anticipated mile marker evolves into just more screen time.
The sheltering in place treadmill feels similar to what Chuck and I experienced while Carter was in the hospital. I remember that we had a particularly bad day amidst many others. I was describing the situation to our good friends Drew and Sarah. As I began my story, I told them that I couldn’t remember the “name of the day.” Drew teased, “Oh, maybe it was Larry Day?” Although it was a joke, I liked the clever quip and ended up calling that memorable day Sh*t Day so we would never forget it. Giving it a title made it stand out among all the other Tuesdays in the hospital.
As we live day to day in the imposed constraints and restraints of COVID-19, my always-organized sister, Lorilynn, began a Corona Virus journal to document the turn of events. I’ll share just a few highlights—or lowlights—as her entries are comprehensive and growing. Our entire family tries to add to it when we think of something but I credit her with keeping this detailed and up to date.
12.31.19 Chinese health officials inform WHO (World Health Organization) about a cluster of 41 patients with a mysterious pneumonia. Most are connected to Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market.
01.20.20 First US case is reported: a 35 year-old man in Snohomish County, Washington.
01.30.20 WHO declares a global public-health emergency.
02.29.20 First US death on American soil.
03.11.20 MTNA cancels conference in Chicago.
03.12.20 NBA cancels the remainder of the 2019-20 season after a player tested positive. In light of this, Levi decides it’s time to go to the grocery store now! Good thing they did...paper towels, toilet paper, hand sanitizer and pasta have disappeared from grocery shelves.
03.14.20 Counties close schools for 2 weeks and then later extend the deadline to May 15.
03.14.20 Last dinner out before most full-service restaurants had to close.
03.15.20 National emergency is declared.
03.18.20 Trump signs the Families First Coronavirus Response Act
03.19.20 Nearly all US states declare a state of emergency.
03.20.20 Last day Lorilynn works in the office.
03.23.20 Leila revamps her studio for on-line lessons.
03.24.20 Tokyo Olympics officially postponed until 2021
03.25.20 Ivan finds paper towels at Costco. Still no latex gloves, though.
03.26.20 Kassy is laid off from her job at Jerry's today. Projected return April 19th.
03.28.20 Almost 10,000,000 Americans have filed for unemployment.
04.03.20 We learn that a cousin has been diagnosed with COVID-19.
04.04.20 Lorilynn is excused from grand jury duty.
04.06.20 More than 9,600 have lost their lives to COVID-19 in America. The CDC recommends wearing a mask when interacting with others.
And it continues….
The way the journal unfolds, it makes us all feel powerless. So, I’m not compelled or equipped to share uplifting or hope-filled messages about the days to come. But, as I was reading a page from the book Grief One Day at a Time, this quote jumped out and gave me pause:
Pooh’s declaration is innocent yet profound.
It reminds me of lyrics from Chris Rice’s song entitled “Life Means So Much”
We’re collectively mourning the loss of our daily routines normally packed with coffee dates, appointments, concerts, conferences, dinners out, church services, family gatherings, human touch… We’re pushed into a corner of online interaction and protective face masks.
It’s tempting to ask how many more days we will be stuck in lockdown. Oh, I wish there was an answer. What we do know is that the pandemic shows no partiality and has sentenced us to equal time.
The takeaway? It’s our choice to either pocket our daily twenty-four hour paycheck and squander it or spend every cent of it. There’s no reserve funding available. We can’t carry over excess to another day, another month or another year. We’ve got to invest in now, 2020.
If there’s something that you’ve always wanted to learn, to fix, to clean, to binge watch, to experience, to cross off, to tell somebody, to stop doing, you’ve got the time to do it now. If ever there was a time to test the waters and tap into your creative soul, the opportunity awaits: write, cook, paint, compose, improvise, garden, start a podcast.
OK, that last one is a subtle slip. A new podcast is coming in my near future thanks to the friends mentioned before, Drew and Sarah, along with my husband Chuck. It’s called Hospital Brain. Looking forward to sharing more about it soon.
The wise words of others shared in this post are intended to encourage you and me to take courage. There will continue to be days of mashed-potato brains in this pandemic. When the fog clears, do what matters, make the days count and name the important ones. And perhaps both you and I can name a day “favorite” just like Winnie the Pooh.
I’ll start and call April 12 a “favorite” day. It’s the day I received the video below.
Here’s Carter who lost his right arm, broke his left wrist and both legs in a boating accident on Thanksgiving Day. He taught himself how to play J.S. Bach’s “Prelude in C” originally composed for two hands.
