Staying Home: Part หนึ่ง

In case you're wondering, that funny little symbol in the blog title is the Thai numeral for 3. :) Going on week whatever-this-is of staying at home, here's a little update on the daily going's on around here.

What I'm drinking: I've started drinking black coffee. Weird, I know. I never thought I'd be a black coffee drinker, and here I am. I'm still in the early stages and luckily Simon and our roommate Eli are coffee snobs, so I'm drinking some pretty good stuff. I don't forsee me ever being a Folgers black coffee drinker, though...hahaha! My friend Jan also gave Simon and I some Celestial Seasonings Ginger + Probiotics tea, and it's so good!! I drink one cup a day and hopefully that will keep all the bad things away.

What I'm watching: Years ago for Christmas my parents bought me season one of Six Feet Under, an HBO show about a dysfunctional family who runs a funeral home. I never did get around to watching it until just recently. The show takes place/was filmed in 2001, and it's been fun to see all the familiar things from that era...the outfits, the hair styles, the accessories, the music, the cars, the flip phones, and the cultural references. You can definitely see how Six Feet Under laid the ground work for Michael C. Hall to become the character of Dexter for the Showtime series...he plays a toned down but still conflicted version of Dexter in this series, and as of yet, has not actually murdered anyone. One of the characters, the teenage daughter Claire, drives an old hearse as her personal vehicle, which I think is pretty cool. It also got me thinking...what a great camping vehicle an old hearse would be! Plenty of room in the back for a mattress and whatnot. Just jack that thing up, put some burly tires on it, and boom...instant adventure vehicle. I'm surprised we don't see more hearses hanging out in the woods...perhaps people are weirded out by sleeping in a spot that had previously been occupied by dead people. I'm not going to lie, I did a used vehicle search and you can get an older model, low-milage Cadillac hearse for around $4,000, just in case this idea piques your interest. I could probably even hook you up with a few outfitters who would love the challenge of converting a hearse to a camping vehicle. :)

What I'm reading: I started reading a book called Heart: A History by Sandeep Jauhar. I snagged it out of a lending library at the hospital during a relatively slow night on our unit. It's a book about our complicated relationship with our hearts, which is both an organ, a muscle, and very affected by emotions, different from our other organs. I was particularly fascinated by the chapter on Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, also known as broken-heart syndrome. I remember years ago when I was in my early 20's, enduring heartbreak after heartbreak, hoping someday either I or the men I was pursuing would get our shit together. I asked my friend Pritish, who was a medical resident at the time, why our hearts hurt when we're sad. I knew there had to be some sort of physiologic explanation for it, because the ache was so intense and so very real. He didn't have an answer for me. It's also entirely possible that he might have known, but just didn't want to get involved in the sadness of a broken-hearted 20-something, which is understandable. It wasn't until years later that I first heard about Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, because I was caring for a patient who had been diagnosed with it after the death of her spouse. Apparently during intense sadness and the adrenaline increases that go along with it, the heart actually physically changes shape and balloons into the shape of a Takotsubo pot, which the Japanese used to trap octopus...it's wide at the bottom and narrow at the top. Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy is typically temporary and resolves within a few weeks, but during the acute phase it can cause heart failure, arrythmias, and even death. The symptoms of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy mimic those of a heart attack, including chest pain and shortness of breath, both of which I had personally experienced during periods of sadness following breakups. I'm not trying to say that I had Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, but the symptoms were very much there. So there you have it. A broken heart really is and can be just that...a broken heart.

What I'm reading

What I've been working on: I started training Kiki with a shock collar. It kind of breaks my heart, but it's something that I've been considering for quite a while, and we had an incident the other day that convinced me that it was time. Since we've been social distancing, I've been trying to get in at least a 3 mile walk everyday, and Kiki comes along. I prefer to walk her off-leash, as it's just more pleasurable for the both of us...she gets to tear around and sniff, and I don't have to wait for her or try to keep up with her. She typically sticks pretty close and most of the time she comes back when called. There's a road that we walk along that has a few houses on it, but otherwise is pretty open and wild. There's one particular house that has chickens, and we've walked by this house tons of times and Kiki hasn't paid the chickens any mind. Well, the other day the chickens were closer to the road than they typically are, and she took off after them. No amount of yelling at her or calling to her could break her focus, and I was worried that she was going to catch one and kill it, or even worse, that the owner of the house would see her going after his chickens and shoot her. Growing up in farm country in Minnesota, farmers were known to shoot dogs who came onto their property and chased their livestock, that's just how it was. As I chased Kiki across this farmer's property, I was worried about her getting shot, but I also worried about myself getting caught in the middle of it as well...it's just not a safe situation for anyone. I finally caught her and that has been the end of the off-leash walking. We've gone on three walks now with the shock collar and I've used it to correct her a few times. She's a smart dog and she's been really responsive, and she's starting to respond more readily to my voice. There are still times when I struggle to break her focus, and we'll see what happens when I start trying her off-leash again. I've determined that it's going to be a while before I'm comfortable walking her off-leash near the farmhouses though, so I'm going to start off-leash training out in the woods. She loves to chase birds and squirrels, and we've been pretty lenient since we got her about letting her chase them, so we'll see if I can start having success with calling her off of those before we delve into chicken territory again. She's a cattle dog and she loves to chase, that's just who she is and it makes me sad to take that away from her, but she needs to be safe and listen to me. If you've trained your dogs with shock collars or have any other advice for me regarding chasing, I'd love to hear it.

Kiki getting some morning sunlight, waiting patiently for her walk

What I'm cooking: With the collaboration of our roommate Eli, we've been trying out at least one new recipe a week. I think we're about 70-30 with regard to success and failures. Our first big success was a Khao Soi curry recipe, which is a style of curry noodle found in northern Thailand. Simon and I had it there during our trip and it's so amazingly good. I have a Thai cookbook that I've literally never opened and we delved into it and lo and behold, the Khao Soi recipe was so incredibly easy and so delicious! So that was a winner. Another time we made homemade pizzas with homemade dough and we all picked our individual toppings...those were fantastic. Just a couple days ago we made a shwarma chicken pot pie, using marinated chicken thighs that we got at Trader Joe's. Let me tell you, it was absolutely amazing and it took an act of willpower to not just sit down and eat all of it right out of the pie plate. I made chicken meatballs the other day and finally got to use my meatball scooper. From start to finish, there was very little touching of raw meat and the entire process time was cut almost in half. Winning! One of the failures has been a batch of pancakes that were crazy salty due to a measuring spoon mishap. Another failure was a batch of pasta I made using some house-made nduja sausage from one of our local restaurants. It was my first time using this type of sausage and come to find out, a little goes a loooong way. The pasta turned out so greasy and rich that I honestly couldn't eat it. Simon and Eli did a good job of mostly finishing it off. We're coining these mishaps "failures moving forward," because we're learning from our mistakes and are committed to trying again, rather than just quitting all together, which sometimes is the easier route. It's been great trying all these things out together; it's made distancing that much more bearable.

Nduja pasta...better luck next time!

In the cooking vein, I've started going through all the Rachael Ray and Food Network magazines that I've been stockpiling over the years. I'd earmarked a ton of recipes in them and then just stashed them away. So now I'm going through all of them, tearing out the recipes that I want to make, and putting them in a binder for easy access later. For the past couple months, I've been craving pasta like nobody's business, so a vast majority of the recipes I'm saving are for pasta. Also, staying true to my midwestern roots, I'm a huge fan of the one-pot recipes. Anything that requires multiple steps to both prep and then prepare are uninteresting to me. However, I'm more than happy to eat futzy recipes if someone else is willing to make them for me.

What I'm growing: I've recently added to my indoor plant collection, and everyone is still alive! It's a miracle! Even my rehabbed orchid still looks amazing. It turns out that I've been under-watering my plants, which has never been an issue for me before. Typically I water my plants pretty much to death, so this is a new chapter in my plant rearing. So far so good!

Easter cactus that I've managed to keep alive

New traditions: Pretty much every morning, Simon, Eli and I get together for coffee. We all sit at the table and work on whatever projects we have going on. Eli typically writes, Simon reads the news, and I randomly do one thing or another. It's hard for me to sit and focus my attention on any one thing, but I'm working on it. Sometimes we sit and talk and I really enjoy those interactions a lot. It's been nice having a third perspective in the house because there's so much more to talk about. Not that Simon and I would otherwise have nothing to talk about having exhausted all conversations in the 13 years that we've been together, but it's nice to have a new perspective on things. We've also started doing Sushi Sundays. We don't do it every Sunday, but most Sundays we get sushi take-out from our favorite sushi place in town. It's been pretty wonderful and it's a great way to finish off the day. I'm so thankful for the local businesses that continue to offer take-out.

Care packages and coffee from friends. :)

Simon: He's having a good day today, and says that today is the best he's felt since he first started getting sick. He joined me on my walk with Kiki this morning and did the whole thing with us. Typically he starts out with us and then turns around early so as not to wear himself out. He's still pretty tired and takes multiple naps a day, but overall the fevers and the body aches are gone. I'm hoping sometime later this week or early next week I'll be able to move back into the bed and life can resume. Thanks so much for all the kinds words we've received, the offers to bring us things, and thanks for the care packages. You guys have been so great and supportive and have made this process easier not just for Simon, but for me as well. It's been hard not just being apart from him but worrying about him as well. I'm thankful for the times I've been able to get out and clear my head.

What I did today: I had breakfast and coffee and then Simon and I took Kiki for a walk. She did well but still went after a squirrel. She's getting better though. Then I came back, and gave Cooper a bath in the sink. There was much less screaming than the last time, thank goodness. Then I took a shower, and put on real pants. Plans for the day include a live-streaming yoga class and virtual happy hour with a friend this evening. Perhaps I'll get around to another episode of Six Feet Under and put some of my recipes in the binder. But we'll see, don't want to get too ambitious. ;)

Stay well, stay healthy!

Close to Home

Simon on the bridge over the Douro River in Porto, Portugal

Almost two weeks ago, for whatever reason, I happened to wake up at 3am and noticed that Simon was also awake. "I have a fever and I'm achey" was all he said to me. Knowing what we know, I was filled with a sense of dread. Despite all our efforts, our social distancing, our staying at home, our precautions at work, the coronavirus had somehow come home with us.

Out for a snowy adventure with Amy in Mountainaire

Simon was tested on April 13th, and on April 15th he got the results of his swab back. Positive. By this time he had already been sick for a few days, so the positive result wasn't really all that surprising to us, but it still stung a bit. I feel like I've been walking on egg shells around him since then; not as a result of his behavior towards me, but because I don't want to let my mind wander to the dark places that are a direct result of working with patients infected with the coronavirus in the hospital setting. I'm also being cautious in the highly unlikely event that I've somehow managed to avoid exposure while living here with him.

Minnesota State Fair with Jenny D and Feather

Simon's symptoms have been mostly atypical; he's had fevers and fatigue, which are pretty consistent with Covid-19, the illness caused by the virus, but he's also had pretty intense body aches. Thankfully he hasn't had much for respiratory symptoms, outside of some random chest tightness that comes and goes. His oxygen saturation has been in the mid-low 90's, which isn't too concerning at this point; people tend to have lower oxygen saturations when living at higher altitudes. I don't think my oxygen saturation gets much above 97% these days. His temperature has consistently been under 101 degrees, and he doesn't have fevers everyday. Funny story (kind of), given all the hoarding of medical supplies in town, I have been unable through multiple trips to multiple stores to find a thermometer, so we've been using a meat thermometer to take his temp. It's kind of ironic that as healthcare providers, we can't find medical equipment to care for ourselves at home. Funny not funny. **Update** Our buddy Branwyn brought us a human thermometer, so the meat thermometer can go back in the drawer...after being sanitized, of course. Simon did a quality control measure (of course) on both thermometers and the meat thermometer was accurate. So for those of you in a similar boat of not being able to find a thermometer for people, a digital meat thermometer will do in a pinch! :) Thanks to all of you who offered us thermometers, I should have asked sooner!

Hiking Camelback Mountain in Phoenix

The progress of Simon's symptoms also has seemed to be a little atypical as well. He was feeling pretty poorly for about 4-5 days after he first got the symptoms, started to feel better for a few days, and then on day 8 from the onset of symptoms, he got really sick again, worse than he had initially. The body aches came back along with the fevers and the fatigue. He was down like that for about 2 days, and over the past couple days he's started to gradually feel a little bit better. He's still tired and achey, but no fevers today. I made a pretty baller pot of homemade chicken noodle soup the other day, so I'm assuming that is having a direct result on his symptoms improving...hahaha! Check out the recipe here. Definitely take the time to make the bone broth...so much good flavor! I also added the juice of one lime and a splash of fish sauce just for fun. My "pinch" of cayenne also ended up being an entire teaspoon...whoops. Good thing we like things spicy around here. I also, as per usual, added too many noodles so the soup turned out more like a stew, but it's still pretty dang good.

Sunset on the beach in Lagos, Portugal with Jo and Dana

How have I been feeling since he got sick? Pretty good, to be honest. For the past few weeks I've had a random cough here and there, and also a little bit of chest tightness, but I'm an asthmatic with seasonal allergies and it's the windy season here in Flagstaff. Coughing, shortness of breath and being wheezy is part of the deal for me this time of year. I haven't had any fevers, body aches, or unusual fatigue. I will say that when I'm out and about wearing my mask I have shortness of breath, but I think that's psychological...being out and about around other people right now gives me anxiety, which causes shortness of breath, etc. Plus it's difficult and downright uncomfortable to do deep breathing grounding exercises with a mask on. Ick.

A snowy hike with Kiki

So what have I been doing since he got sick? Staying home, mostly. I've also been sleeping on the couch every night except for one night since Simon started having symptoms. Given that we'd been sleeping together this entire time before he got sick I'm not sure that it's necessary to sleep apart, but I think it's just more comfortable for both of us. Simon made the comment the other day that his fever broke while he was in bed and his sweat smelled like chicken noodle soup...I was thankful to have missed out on that little event. The dogs are very confused as I've relegated them to the love seat...there's just not room for me and both of them on the couch at the same time. They sit over on the love seat and stare longingly at me until I just can't take it anymore and roll over to avoid their gaze. Creepers. I've gone into town a couple times to get groceries (and look for a thermometer), and I've also gone to work. I'm not quite sure what to make of my situation regarding living with a known infected person and then going into work and being around both patients and my coworkers. There doesn't seem to be a lot of concrete guidance regarding what I should or shouldn't be doing. Given the incubation period of the virus, Simon could have been infected without symptoms as early as late March. During that time we were carrying on as we always do...sharing a bed, hanging out, sitting together on the couch, going places together in the car, cooking together. I've had ample opportunity to catch this thing from him, but I've yet to show any symptoms. Have I somehow, despite all odds, managed to avoid catching it at all? That seems pretty unlikely. Or am I one of those people who gets it but doesn't show symptoms? That's probably the most likely and most ideal scenario.

The dogs on the love seat...social distancing ;)

Truth be told, I worked with Covid positive patients before he did, but who knows how long we were working with infected people prior to knowing that they were infected? How many infected patients admitted for purely unrelated ailments did we treat and send home, being none the wiser to their underlying viral infection? If I had to guess, and this is purely a guess, one or both of us had ample opportunity to be exposed at work prior to our current precautions being put in place. However, we could have just as easily caught it out and about in Flagstaff, there's really no way to accurately know. All we can do now is move forward and keep ourselves away from other people to slow the spread of the virus. I can't help but wonder how many people we could have infected these past few weeks prior to Simon showing symptoms.

Riding bikes in Mountainaire

So where do we go from here? Well, Simon is still waiting to have a day with no symptoms. Today is day 11 since the start of symptoms. We've been told a few things as far as when he can go back to work, everything from being asymptomatic for three days to having two negative swabs before going back. Given that the information on this virus and the approach to it is constantly evolving, protocols are changing daily. I guess we'll wait until he starts having asymptomatic days and go from there. In the meantime, I'm told that I can still go to work as long as I'm not having any symptoms; I'm just required to wear a mask at all times (which I've already been doing per the workplace policy), and that I'm to notify employee health immediately if I start having symptoms. I can't decide how I feel about that, knowing that I'm living with an actively symptomatic person who has tested positive. I've clearly been exposed, and I keep wondering if I should be tested, but given my lack of symptoms and the overall lack of testing availability, I'm told that I don't currently qualify to be tested. So I'm just acting as though I have it and am proceeding accordingly.

Beers with our buddy David in Colorado

In a way I'm kind of relieved that this happened (poor miserable Simon may feel differently, however); maybe now I'll have some immunity to this and can move on with my life. The fear of catching it was almost overwhelming there for a while, and now here it is in my very own house. I did have a little mini-meltdown the other day when I was in town buying groceries. I'd been to a couple stores on the hunt for flour (found it) and a thermometer (no dice) and was disheartened and pissed off at the number of people out and about in groups with no masks on. It's so infuriating to me that people aren't taking this seriously. Whether it's out of boredom, ignorance, or indifference, there's no excuse for it. At the very least, they should be wearing a goddamned mask; if they can't fathom the idea of entertaining themselves at home then at the very least they should be decent human beings and protect the general population from themselves. After my little meltdown in the car I promptly drove myself to the drive-thru at  Chik-fil-A (where all the workers were wearing masks) for some mac and cheese and nuggets; I barely made it home before I stress ate all of it. No regrets...outside of wishing that I had gotten the large mac and cheese rather than the medium. Haha!

Simon and I in Lisbon, Portugal

So Simon currently is on full quarantine and I guess I'm on full social distancing with partial quarantine. Weird times, but hopefully they'll be over soon. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask. I don't know much more than most people but I've had the opportunity to observe coronavirus in multiple settings, and at this point I'm still fully on board with staying home, staying distant, and keeping this crap to yourselves.

Be well, my friends.

What is a Hero, Anyway?

Being directly involved in this pandemic while also being simultaneously affected by it have given me a lot of time to think about my career as a nurse, what it means to me, and what value it brings to others. The community support for us as healthcare workers has been so profound. Local businesses are bringing us food, family members are making signs and posting them up around town, the evening display of clapping, howling, and flashing of lights to commemorate the end of another hard day has shone a light on the value that we as healthcare workers bring to our community.

 One thing I know for sure, is that none of us are getting out of this without some form of trauma. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it's not. I hope that we can all somehow learn to use our shared traumas to be better humans overall, to support each other even when times are good, to see each person as a person of value, and not just a stranger on the street. My heart aches for those who have lost someone to this virus, as the typical rituals of sickness and dying have gone out the window in the interest of keeping the population at large as safe as possible. I think about all the people going home to empty houses, their spouses, friends, or family having been so rapidly and unexpectedly lost to this illness. Being a person who is sensitive to providing comfort during the dying process, this has been particularly difficult for me to provide patients and their families with "good deaths." I touched on that a little bit in my last blog, but I wanted to share a little bit about what this looks like on the inside for both nurses and patients, and why it's so important that we follow the recommendations to stay home, to stay healthy, and to support and encourage the same from those around us.

Recently I had the pleasure of caring for a very sweet man with coronavirus. He was getting better and in the morning would be going home to self-isolate and recover. The patient's spouse was also in the hospital with complications from the virus, and wasn't expected to make it through the night. After I received the call, I squatted down next to my patient's bed so that I could be to eye-to-eye with him; me in my full protective garb which includes gloves, a yellow gown, a mask, and eye goggles, and I told him that his wife had passed away. I remained there with him and held his hand while he cried. He blamed himself for what had happened because he had tested positive for coronavirus and believed that he had given it to her. I listened quietly, letting him talk, letting him cry, knowing that he needed me to just listen, to just be there with him; I was the only one there, the only one allowed to be with him. After a while I arranged for him to go see her, and I brought him to his wife's room down the hall so he could see her one last time. I left him there with her to say all the things he needed to say, to feel all the things he needed to feel in that moment; the two of them alone in that room, the last time they would be together.

She died alone. He mourned alone, with no one but me wearing the equivalent of a space suit to comfort him. In normal times, he would have been able to stay in his wife's room with her until she took her last breath, surrounded by those who cared about her the most, but with the virus visitation is extremely limited and outright prohibited most of the time due to the risk of exposure. I hate the ways that this virus has taken away our closeness towards each other. I couldn't even give him a hug because the risk of me being exposed is so high, even in my garb. We're told that if we follow the guidelines of wearing our protective equipment, our chances of contracting the virus at work are very low, but we still need to maintain our distance and keep our interactions at a minimum, which doesn't leave a whole lot of room to provide person-to-person comfort. And let's be honest, does anyone really want a hug from a person wearing head-to-toe protective gear? I feel like there is nothing less human than trying to hug a person whose very outfit screams "you're infected!" In all the ways that nurses have been described as heroes during this, I feel that providing emotional support and comfort through physical closeness is one of the super-powers that have been severely limited if not taken completely away from us. 

What is a hero anyway? I'm struggling a little bit with being called a hero. I feel like being a hero implies some sort of special ability or skill set that allows for a courageous self-sacrifice without judgement or bias, which I guess could be argued, but I'm doing what I do because professionally it's what I've always done. I don't say that with hubris nor do I mean for it to sound flippant, but the fact of the matter is, I've been a nurse for 18 years of my life, and at this point in my career being a nurse has become a large part of who I am and what I do. However, if I were to be completely honest, if there was a way for me to feasibly sit this one out, I would. I'm terrified of this virus; I'm terrified of what it can do to myself and those I care about. The other day at work my goggles fell off when I was providing patient care and I about lost my shit, worrying that I had been exposed. It's a romantic notion that nurses and doctors selflessly do what they do for the good of the human race. The reality is that even with the best of intentions, we're being paid to do what we do for the good of the human race. Do I care about people? Very much so. Do I want to help people be as healthy as they can be? Yes, I do. Does taking care of others fulfill me? Yes, it does. Would I do this for free? No, I wouldn't, not at this level of personal risk. That is the harsh reality of my chosen profession as a nurse. Does that make me less of a hero? Perhaps. Mr. Rogers famously said, "Look for the helpers, you will always find people who are helping." I very much enjoy being a helper in the hospital setting, and I personally feel that identifying as a helper is more suited to how I view myself as a nurse. Being a helper in someone's wellness journey is a very fulfilling part of my profession, but it doesn't come without personal physical, emotional, and mental risks.

To be honest, caring for patients with coronavirus has been unexpectedly restorative for me in so many ways. It's been weeks since I've been yelled at by a patient's family member. It's been weeks since a patient has disrespected, verbally, or physically abused me. Patients no longer demand things from me, they ask, and for the most part they listen without argument. They overwhelmingly are kind, they're grateful, they're listening to our recommendations and they're following them. I've never seen so many patients using their incentive spirometers, which, prior to coronavirus, either went straight into the trash or were just paper weights on their tray tables. For the first time in a long time, I think the patients are staring down the barrel of their own mortality and they are terrified. They've seen their family and friends die from this. Coronavirus has frightened them in a way high blood pressure never could, and never will. No longer am I seen as the pain in the ass waking them up in the night to take their blood pressure. No longer am I viewed as the one giving them shots just for funsies. I think for one of the very first times in my career as a nurse, I am now valued as one of the people who is directly involved with saving their lives, and all the miserable things that go along with being a patient have now become the very things that will keep them alive through this. It's always been that way for me, but it hasn't always been that way for them. It's been a very drastic change, and it's a change that I hope sticks around once things are back to "normal," whatever that will look like when this is all said and done.

In the meantime, the hospital units are quiet, there's very little coming and going, there's no laughter spilling out into the hallway from rooms full of friends and family. Prior to all this, when I heard laughter on the nursing unit, I would always go into the patient's rooms and tell them how wonderful it is to hear laughing in the hospital. It's something we don't hear nearly enough, and lately not at all. I think during all this, it feels insensitive or disrespectful to laugh in the presence of the sick, even though shared laughter can be so comforting. Laughter implies that things are okay, that we're relaxed, that we're able to not take things so seriously, that we will get through this and that it's okay to have a little fun along the way. Laughter means that we're able to find delight in the most minimal of things, human oddities, funny sayings, a wayward fart. I know that someday we'll laugh together again.

Take care, be well. Thank you for all things you are doing for yourself and others during this time of uncertainty.

Staying Home: Part Deux

My roommate brought home fresh croissants and other assorted pastries from a bakery here in town this morning, and as the taste of chocolate lingers on my tongue and the last little bits of butter are wiped from my fingers, I find myself reflecting on this past week; the things I saw, the things I heard, the things I experienced, the way I feel. So many feels.

The first feel is fear. I'm afraid of this virus. I'm fearful for my friends, my family, my coworkers, my community. I worry about the people who aren't social distancing, potentially spreading the virus and dragging this whole pandemic out. I worry about the small businesses in town, who have been either shuttered or relying solely on takeout since this all started. How does a restaurant even plan for something like this? How do they know what to order? Most of the places that I've gotten takeout from are still offering their full menu, rather than a reduced menu of crowd favorites, which is what I had assumed would happen. Flagstaff is a town that thrives not only on the support of locals, but on a pretty robust tourist industry, which today is a thing of the recent past. It's weird to drive into work without traffic. And yes, we do have our own weird traffic pattern here, where sitting for 5 minutes infuriates me to the point that I wonder how I ever lived anywhere with actual traffic. My commute to work used to take me anywhere from 15 minutes to a half hour, depending on traffic. Since the Stay at Home order my commutes are consistently under 15 minutes every time, even while taking into account a few random construction zones. It's unsettling driving through town, seeing businesses closed, parking lots empty, outdoor patios deserted, no people out and about downtown.

The second feel is longing. I miss hugs. I miss getting together with my friends. I miss feeling safe and secure in my interactions with strangers, giving them a wide berth if not avoiding them all together. I miss happy hours and coffee dates, yoga classes and walks in the woods with friends and their dogs. I miss going out for bleary post-night-shift drinks and/or breakfast with my coworkers. I miss being able to pop into a store to grab all manner of non-essentials, wasting time window shopping, browsing, touching all the fabrics and drooling over the bikes. All the interactions that I took for granted have left a void of weird loneliness behind. I think what makes it different, and less lonely than previous bouts of loneliness, is that I know that everyone else is going through this too. I'm less alone in this situation than I'll probably ever be in any situation from here on out, yet here I sit alone.

The third feel is trepidation. Where do we go from here? How bad is this going to get? How many people are going to die? First-hand accounts and things I've heard from peers are terrifying. I'm completely convinced that the death toll and total infected from this virus are completely under-reported. Mortuaries are full of bodies, buildings are being repurposed to make space for more patients, patients are doubling up on life-support equipment. The hospitals are running short on personal protective equipment (PPE) for their healthcare workers. Some hospitals are already out and are reusing everything that they can, putting their staff at risk of contracting the virus and the illness that goes along with it. Hearing reports that around 88% of patients who end up on a ventilator will die. Knowing that these patients are dying alone because hospitals have banned visitors for the vast majority of patients, and the rest of the patients who get visitors are greatly restricted. I heard that Colorado has started specifically selecting patients with severe pre-existing conditions from being eligible for the ventilator at all, choosing instead to save their ventilators for patients who might have a better chance of recovery. Who will enact measures like that next? As healthcare providers, we are trained to try to save everyone, and if we can't save everyone, at least try to keep them comfortable and give them a good death. The virus has turned all of that upside down. A death on a ventilator is not a good death. A death gasping for air is not a good death. A death alone is not a good death for those who are left behind. The fact of the matter is, and I have to keep reminding myself of this, is that not everyone dies. Actually, there are more people who are recovering than there are dying, but it's hard to keep that in perspective when all you hear about on the news is how many have died. The recovered patients are also greatly under-reported; due to inadequate testing, there's probably a large portion of the population who has been either exposed or infected by this virus, and have recovered at home and will never make it into the count. I need to focus on the recovery numbers, give myself some hope.

The fourth feel is hope. Despite everything, there is still this little seed of hope growing within me, knowing that we're going to be okay. That as human beings, we'll get through this and hopefully we'll be better because of it. I hope that we learn to appreciate our interactions with others, that we don't take friends, family, coworkers, and friendly strangers for granted. I hope that we continue to help, to protect, to interact, to support each other long after this virus has faded into obscurity. I hope this virus does, in fact, fade into obscurity, and that this is just one more thing that we as the human race can tell tales about someday.

The fifth feel is gratitude. The outpouring of support that I personally have felt during all this has been amazing. Friends I haven't heard from in years are checking in with me, asking how I'm doing and making sure that I'm okay. I've FaceTimed more in the past few weeks that I have in my entire life previously (if you haven't gotten a call yet, please know that I'm getting there...this type of interaction is both foreign and exhausting!). Last night at work members from one of the local vision offices in town brought food for all of us, and this has been happening frequently by local businesses in the past few weeks. I can't thank them enough for thinking of us, providing for us, taking time out of their days and money out of their pockets to let us know that they appreciate us being there, ready to take care of whomever comes through the doors of our hospital.

I guess that's it for now. I've been keeping myself busy by reading books, going for walks, playing with the dogs, napping, eating (for real though, when people joke about "gaining the COVID 19", it's like the fear of the Freshman 15 at college all over again, but this time my metabolism is definitely not up to the task, and my will power has wandered away, never to return...I'm doomed). In the week ahead I'm hoping to try out a new recipe or two; so many of my favorite food bloggers are posting recipes using mostly pantry staples, and I'm intrigued by this. I also happen to have a pretty stocked pantry, so we'll see what I come up with. I'm also planning to reupholster the headliner to the camper van with some fun fabric I got at IKEA, and hopefully start filling some of the bracings with isolation. Simon has the subfloor almost completely done, and the wiring is all hooked up and ready to go. Next we'll put in the laminate flooring and then start insulating the sides and putting up the walls. Things are happening! Admittedly slower than we would like, but at the moment we've got no where else to be, so taking our time isn't that much of an inconvenience these days.

Be well my friends. And wash your hands. :)