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.

Day 18 Self Quarantine

Day 18, self quarantine:  I have all kinds of thoughts this morning, none of them good, and then I stumbled on the rolling  New York Times coronavirus obituary list and lost it altogether though I highly recommend you read it.  So I was struggling with what to say today without bringing you all down with me when I saw a short piece on the news which gave me inspiration and made me laugh.  The perky, young anchor looked into the camera and asked with a perfectly straight face,

“Will coronavirus end your marriage?”

Oh, honey.

I’ve been with my knucklehead since Richard Nixon was President.  We’ve been through substance addiction, deaths of loved ones, near bankruptcy, September 11, infertility and several miscarriages...you think a little virus is going to take our relationship down?

Apparently a lot of couples are struggling with too much togetherness.  Right now in China, following months of quarantine, the divorce rate is soaring.

But then I thought about how this virus could take our marriage down in the worst possible way, and I started slipping into panic attack territory again.  So I used my emotional “tools” and shook it off and decided to make this post about gratitude.

I am grateful for my husband and kids.  They are everything to me.

I am grateful my family is safe and healthy and able to self quarantine.

I am grateful I can work from home and fulfill my lifelong fantasy of having my dog at work.  Speaking of Jake, he’s hilarious.  He defies the You can’t teach an old dog (he’s 9) new tricks every day.  The two of us get up at dawn while Gary sleeps in.  Around 8:00 in the morning, he starts nudging me.

“What is it, Jake?  Are you ready to be Jake Slick, paralegal?”

As soon as I say it, he runs to the stairs to head to Julie’s bedroom a/k/a my new office.  He waits for me and Gary said he hears us while sleeping - the sound of Jake’s paws on the hallway floor and me giggling and whispering “Are you ready to work today, Jake?”

Jake stays with me all day, stretched out on Julie’s bed, snoring.  He only gets up for lunch, which brings me to my next item of gratitude.

I have a husband who is an unbelievable chef.  I’ve eaten in 5 star restaurants all over the planet...I’ve eaten in Tuscany for God’s sake, and Gary can compete with all of them although Tuscany...

Anyway, I’ve been getting some 5 star meals during quarantine, including surprise lunches garnished with fresh herbs.

Jake is so down with this new routine.

So what I’m saying is, I know I’m blessed and maybe I used to take everything for granted.

Not anymore.

https://www.nytimes.com/series/people-died-coronavirus-obituaries