Day 19

Day 19, self quarantine: Yesterday, I got  an email from my doctor, letting me know his office is closed, oh, and by the way, several of his patients have coronavirus and two have died.

Once I stopped projectile vomiting, I checked my calendar and confirmed I hadn’t been in to see him since January.

I knew that, I did, but fear is a powerful amnesia  drug.

My doctor was kind enough to provide his cell phone number and now I have a brand new tool in my hypochondriac panic attack goody bag. Hopefully I won’t need to use it, though I am sure I will waste hours on my fantasy phone call with him because I’m twisted like that.

So yeah, day 19.  Do I even believe except for trips around the block with the dog and one quick swing by the office two weeks ago to pick something up, I haven’t been out or had physical contact with any human other than Gary for 19 days?

Though this is kinda how I fantasized our old age and I’m way cool with that but I guess talk to me after April 30 or whenever it’s safe to go outside again.

Speaking of going out,  Gary went to seniors shopping at Whole Foods at dawn yesterday and came back shaken.

“I was the only one not wearing a mask,” he said incredulously.

The dude really needs to get an iPhone.  

I rummaged around my dresser and found a bandana Keith Richards threw to me at a Stones concert in the 70s with a skull and crossbones on it so that’s going to be Gary’s new mask. It will be quite fetching with his long gray ponytail. 😎

Okay, Keith didn’t throw me his bandana, I bought it at the merch stand.  C’mon, if Keith Richards threw me anything at a concert, I’d have a freaking tattoo commemorating it on my forehead.  I’m just having some fun.

Because all this death and destruction is getting to me.

And as I’m sitting here writing this, I’m watching the news.  It looks like a federal mandate is coming out today that says everyone in America is going to be wearing masks from now on.  Oh my god.

I’m trying to have nice thoughts but it isn’t easy.  I’m still having a hard time wrapping my brain around all of this.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about September 11, 2001 - the day America changed forever.  We all remember what we were doing.  It was like that when John Kennedy and John Lennon died, too.  I was at the office early, and chatting online with a writer friend of mine who was in his office in NYC.  It was 8:46 a.m.  I got a description of the first tower struck in real time, as it was happening, from his office window.  We were using AOL instant messenger to chat, and something akin to HOLY SHIT appeared on my screen. 

At first, we thought it was a bizarre accident.

And then the next tower was hit.  My law firm had a television in our conference room, it was before social media, and the staff darted in and out shocked, totally clueless and vaguely terrified...we really didn’t know what was happening.

And then the plane went down in Pennsylvania — OUR STATE — and we were sure it was World War III.

It was still morning.  Eric and Julie were in 10th and 11th grade, respectively.  I raced to their school and grabbed them.  We walked  home in a fog — ran, actually — and were glued to the television all day.   I knew that life had changed forever, and that September 11, 2001 would be a date in United States history that would live in infamy.

I guess that will be the entire year, 2020.

And like September 11, life is never going to be the same afterwards.  

This is crazy.