Today we cancelled our vacation for this summer. We knew we had to, and it's been coming to the point where we want to make sure we can get (at least most of) our money back, and not have the cruiseline go bankrupt. We're still waiting on the airline to confirm the cancellation and then we'll try to send that through insurance, with a 50/50 shot of seeing that money again.
It sucks. It sucks a lot, and there's been a lot of tears about it.
We're all losing things in this quarantine. And while some are obviously worse(losing a loved one; losing a job), I'm not going to deny that I'm grieving this loss.
We planned for this, saved for this, worked for this. We did the responsible thing and didn't just spend money we didn't have yet for it, delaying it so it would be a guilt-free trip. It was mostly "my" money, the hours of proofreading garbage, that was paying for it.
And of course we can go again a different time. Maybe. Except this was our bucket list trip. The one we were taking because it's one of those places we wanted to make sure we saw, and didn't want it to be on the list of regrets. So we had the time, we could save the money, we didn't want to put it off.
And now we have to. Because of a fucking virus.
And I don't know when we'll feel safe enough to try again. 2 years seems like about the earliest. And maybe not even then, I don't know.
It sucks and I'm sad and I know I need to get over it and move on, but I'm not there yet.
Monday, April 6, 2020
Saturday, March 28, 2020
The Journey vs. The Destination
I started rereading a book in which the main character dies at the end. I didn't love the book the first time around; the tension and uncertainty kept me from enjoying the story and the writing. This time, I know the end, and even though the end is sad, I can still enjoy what leads up to it.
That's the problem with this whole quarantine/death virus situation. I don't know how - or when - it ends. Minus the virus thing, this is actually a pretty cool time for an anxiety-ridden introvert like me. All my people are home - no car accidents or school shooters to worry about. The kids aren't stressed about school. We're not darting from one activity to the next. I'm getting enough sleep for the first time in 12+ years. We're cooking at home every night, and eating together as a family, which only ever happened on weekends before.
Last night, we went out for a walk after dinner, all 5 of us. We saw swans on the water, beavers swimming and slapping their tails, ducks, and a beautiful sunset.
We never have time, energy, or ambition for things like that regularly.
I'm crocheting more again (now that my hands stopped hurting for the time being) and maybe will actually finish the blanket I started like 2 years ago (pre-hand issues). The house is slowing getting purged of all our accumulated junk.
It's all good - except for the fear of any of us leaving the house and catching a virus that could kill us. There's no real rhyme or reason as to who is ending up in ICU and who is dying, not really.
I can't enjoy the journey because I don't know the destination. There's no end point. There's no flipping to the end to see what happens - preferably that we all come out of this ok - so I can relax. There's all this good around me, but it's blocked by the fear and uncertainty.
My goal is at least to acknowledge the good, even if I can't fully enjoy it, so when I look back on this time it's not all bad. Just like I took thousands of pictures of the kids when they were babies, and when I look back on that I don't see the busy, exhausted, stressed-out, vomit-covered life we led, but the smiles and the cuteness, and the thousands of moments of good sprinkled in every day.
On that note, I should probably charge my camera and start making a point of taking more pictures of now, too. So when we finally get wherever this leads, I can look back and see that it wasn't all bad.
That's the problem with this whole quarantine/death virus situation. I don't know how - or when - it ends. Minus the virus thing, this is actually a pretty cool time for an anxiety-ridden introvert like me. All my people are home - no car accidents or school shooters to worry about. The kids aren't stressed about school. We're not darting from one activity to the next. I'm getting enough sleep for the first time in 12+ years. We're cooking at home every night, and eating together as a family, which only ever happened on weekends before.
Last night, we went out for a walk after dinner, all 5 of us. We saw swans on the water, beavers swimming and slapping their tails, ducks, and a beautiful sunset.
We never have time, energy, or ambition for things like that regularly.
I'm crocheting more again (now that my hands stopped hurting for the time being) and maybe will actually finish the blanket I started like 2 years ago (pre-hand issues). The house is slowing getting purged of all our accumulated junk.
It's all good - except for the fear of any of us leaving the house and catching a virus that could kill us. There's no real rhyme or reason as to who is ending up in ICU and who is dying, not really.
I can't enjoy the journey because I don't know the destination. There's no end point. There's no flipping to the end to see what happens - preferably that we all come out of this ok - so I can relax. There's all this good around me, but it's blocked by the fear and uncertainty.
My goal is at least to acknowledge the good, even if I can't fully enjoy it, so when I look back on this time it's not all bad. Just like I took thousands of pictures of the kids when they were babies, and when I look back on that I don't see the busy, exhausted, stressed-out, vomit-covered life we led, but the smiles and the cuteness, and the thousands of moments of good sprinkled in every day.
On that note, I should probably charge my camera and start making a point of taking more pictures of now, too. So when we finally get wherever this leads, I can look back and see that it wasn't all bad.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Score!
This morning, I decided to perform the futile task of searching for grocery delivery times. I check multiple sites every day. The one with the most openings is also the hardest to use, and the other two have been booked solid. So imagine my surprise when I snagged a delivery time - for two weeks out!
It feels like such a score. Because this is life now. You get the most points for the least amount of human contact in a week. If we don't have to go to the grocery store (albeit 2 weeks from now), that's one less infection vector in our lives. And since we don't go anywhere else, SCORE. (Of course, 2 weeks from now, we'll be heading to IVIG again, so ... yeah.)
And then tonight, I randomly checked another service and found a time for grocery pick up next week. DOUBLE SCORE.
So now we have two weeks worth of groceries dealt with (and we just went yesterday) with *no human contact*.
I mean, of course, we'll have to disinfect all the groceries, because somehow this is the world we live in now, where your fruit can kill you. Or your mail. Or what you ordered from Amazon 2 weeks ago that finally came. Or basically anything that has been touched by human hands.
Seriously, can this nightmare end now?
But in any case: got grocery delivery times for the next 2 weeks. Score.
It feels like such a score. Because this is life now. You get the most points for the least amount of human contact in a week. If we don't have to go to the grocery store (albeit 2 weeks from now), that's one less infection vector in our lives. And since we don't go anywhere else, SCORE. (Of course, 2 weeks from now, we'll be heading to IVIG again, so ... yeah.)
And then tonight, I randomly checked another service and found a time for grocery pick up next week. DOUBLE SCORE.
So now we have two weeks worth of groceries dealt with (and we just went yesterday) with *no human contact*.
I mean, of course, we'll have to disinfect all the groceries, because somehow this is the world we live in now, where your fruit can kill you. Or your mail. Or what you ordered from Amazon 2 weeks ago that finally came. Or basically anything that has been touched by human hands.
Seriously, can this nightmare end now?
But in any case: got grocery delivery times for the next 2 weeks. Score.
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Good Days, Bad Days
I take a medication that gives me really wild and vivid dreams. Every day I wake up hoping this is just one of those dreams and I'll tell everyone about it and they'll tell me how crazy it is, like they do with my other dreams, and we'll laugh and then make plans to go out shopping and for dinner.
And then I wake up and nope. Here we are. This is somehow actual real life in 2020.
Like everyone else, we're having our good days and bad days. Yesterday we were all pretty grumpy and short tempered. The kids all did some schoolwork, but there was enough frustration and lack of patience that I didn't push it. Today went a little better on that front - I worked 1:1 with N for his stuff, and the other kids worked mostly on their independent research projects that they chose to do. Then I finally went ahead and bought them a course to learn to program Roblox games, and the hope/goal is that they'll all work together on it, to combine their various strengths. We'll see.
I'm having trouble finding the motivation I had last week to get things done. I spend most of my patience and energy on getting them to do schoolwork of some sort, and by the time that's done, I just can't seem to convince myself to do much more. This is always my coping strategy during stress though, to spend my time doing mindless things on the computer or reading, so I don't actually think about the rest of the things. Don't look too far ahead, or think about all the anxiety-causing things out of my control.
Even on the best of days, everything starts coming to a head between dinner and when the kids to go bed. The daily testing numbers are released, to fuel anxiety. We take stock of what we have and how long until we need to venture out into the world again. The kids get all amped up, and most nights (like tonight) I end up putting on my headphones and listening to music way too loud so I can block it out. It's no one's fault, they're not being bad or even different than they were earlier in the day, but 12 hours later my nerves are fraying.
Another day down. Another day when all my people are safe. But who knows how much longer this will last, and if we'll all still be here and safe at the end.
And then I wake up and nope. Here we are. This is somehow actual real life in 2020.
Like everyone else, we're having our good days and bad days. Yesterday we were all pretty grumpy and short tempered. The kids all did some schoolwork, but there was enough frustration and lack of patience that I didn't push it. Today went a little better on that front - I worked 1:1 with N for his stuff, and the other kids worked mostly on their independent research projects that they chose to do. Then I finally went ahead and bought them a course to learn to program Roblox games, and the hope/goal is that they'll all work together on it, to combine their various strengths. We'll see.
I'm having trouble finding the motivation I had last week to get things done. I spend most of my patience and energy on getting them to do schoolwork of some sort, and by the time that's done, I just can't seem to convince myself to do much more. This is always my coping strategy during stress though, to spend my time doing mindless things on the computer or reading, so I don't actually think about the rest of the things. Don't look too far ahead, or think about all the anxiety-causing things out of my control.
Even on the best of days, everything starts coming to a head between dinner and when the kids to go bed. The daily testing numbers are released, to fuel anxiety. We take stock of what we have and how long until we need to venture out into the world again. The kids get all amped up, and most nights (like tonight) I end up putting on my headphones and listening to music way too loud so I can block it out. It's no one's fault, they're not being bad or even different than they were earlier in the day, but 12 hours later my nerves are fraying.
Another day down. Another day when all my people are safe. But who knows how much longer this will last, and if we'll all still be here and safe at the end.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
How do we ever go back?
Today we took a "scenic" drive, just to get out of the house. I took my camera along, just in case we happened upon actually scenery without people, but we didn't. There were people everywhere it felt like.
There are two things that strike me about all this.
First is how people, even people who think they're doing a good job, still don't understand how serious this is. Things like going to visit your elderly and fragile parents isn't a reasonable activity, actually, and that sucks. But unless you're not even going to the grocery store or pharmacy, you're being exposed, and even if you've been a total hermit, it still hasn't been long enough for most people to say you're fully in the clear.
I mean, there is the flip side, people who are so freaked out they can't handle it. The "I need to cry now" and "I can't listen to the news anymore, it's too much". And I get that it's overwhelming, honestly. I think I'm just jaded, because this isn't my first rodeo with making choices and sacrifices because someone I love is literally at risk of dying. If I don't listen, or I get too emotional, I'm going to make bad choices. I've lived with this responsibility for what, 12 years now? With it's companion feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop, literally every day for like 13 years or more even. So I'm used to it, and trying to be patient with people who aren't - while hating everyone who still blows this off as no big thing.
Second though, is how do we ever go back from this? How do we trust it's safe again? (Even if safe is only ever "safe" anyways.) Like normal people are now looking at things in new ways, and germophobes like me are spraying the mail with Lysol before it can come in the house, and on our drive we saw some rocks that would be fun to climb on maybe and were empty but all I could think was "but people have *touched* those").
I'm struggling with the facts of our cruise. I don't see how we're going to feel safe in July to go, even if the ports and borders reopen and the cruises are running. I want to go so badly, but not if it's going to be a miserable time of "don't touch anything at all ever" and suspiciously eyeing ever person we come into contact with. If we cancel in the next 2 months, we'll get all our money back, so no harm there - except our airfare, which is non-refundable. The airline changed it to get a credit to fly by next March, which does us zero good, and even if they extend it a credit out to next summer like ... who's saying 2021 is gonna be better? So we might just be out that money, which sucks, or we can maybe try to finagle a refund from our travel insurance.
How do we get back to where we were before, in terms of comfort with being around people, and travel, and going places?
That's one of the scariest uncertainties for me.
There are two things that strike me about all this.
First is how people, even people who think they're doing a good job, still don't understand how serious this is. Things like going to visit your elderly and fragile parents isn't a reasonable activity, actually, and that sucks. But unless you're not even going to the grocery store or pharmacy, you're being exposed, and even if you've been a total hermit, it still hasn't been long enough for most people to say you're fully in the clear.
I mean, there is the flip side, people who are so freaked out they can't handle it. The "I need to cry now" and "I can't listen to the news anymore, it's too much". And I get that it's overwhelming, honestly. I think I'm just jaded, because this isn't my first rodeo with making choices and sacrifices because someone I love is literally at risk of dying. If I don't listen, or I get too emotional, I'm going to make bad choices. I've lived with this responsibility for what, 12 years now? With it's companion feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop, literally every day for like 13 years or more even. So I'm used to it, and trying to be patient with people who aren't - while hating everyone who still blows this off as no big thing.
Second though, is how do we ever go back from this? How do we trust it's safe again? (Even if safe is only ever "safe" anyways.) Like normal people are now looking at things in new ways, and germophobes like me are spraying the mail with Lysol before it can come in the house, and on our drive we saw some rocks that would be fun to climb on maybe and were empty but all I could think was "but people have *touched* those").
I'm struggling with the facts of our cruise. I don't see how we're going to feel safe in July to go, even if the ports and borders reopen and the cruises are running. I want to go so badly, but not if it's going to be a miserable time of "don't touch anything at all ever" and suspiciously eyeing ever person we come into contact with. If we cancel in the next 2 months, we'll get all our money back, so no harm there - except our airfare, which is non-refundable. The airline changed it to get a credit to fly by next March, which does us zero good, and even if they extend it a credit out to next summer like ... who's saying 2021 is gonna be better? So we might just be out that money, which sucks, or we can maybe try to finagle a refund from our travel insurance.
How do we get back to where we were before, in terms of comfort with being around people, and travel, and going places?
That's one of the scariest uncertainties for me.
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Foooooood
So I mean I lied about how the personal space issue is going to be the hardest.
I'm dying for takeout food. Anything we don't have to cook ourselves. But we feel like it's maybe too big a risk.
Is it paranoia? Maybe. But I don't know how to think it's safe, and so here we are getting ready to cook our own pizzas, which will not be anywhere near as good as take out pizza. We're running out of meal ideas, and already put in the grocery order for tomorrow but I wish we had added more lunch ideas.
I wish my hand/shoulder didn't hurt so much because there's things I'd like to be doing, but I know if I don't just let it rest for awhile it will get worse and then I won't be able to do anything with it. So, more stupid games on my phone, more books to read. Nothing strenuous.
Maybe I'll spend some time looking up other meal ideas and find something worth trying. I was also thinking about maybe digging out the Aerogarden and starting to grow something again, and maybe starting some seeds for the summer.
Speaking of summer, we did get the good news that our cruise final payment date is pushed off a month, so we have more time to figure out how to handle that. It seems impossible that we'll get to go, which is really sad, but if we can't go we'd at least like to get as much of our money back as possible. And now we have an extra month to see how that might play out.
I'm dying for takeout food. Anything we don't have to cook ourselves. But we feel like it's maybe too big a risk.
Is it paranoia? Maybe. But I don't know how to think it's safe, and so here we are getting ready to cook our own pizzas, which will not be anywhere near as good as take out pizza. We're running out of meal ideas, and already put in the grocery order for tomorrow but I wish we had added more lunch ideas.
I wish my hand/shoulder didn't hurt so much because there's things I'd like to be doing, but I know if I don't just let it rest for awhile it will get worse and then I won't be able to do anything with it. So, more stupid games on my phone, more books to read. Nothing strenuous.
Maybe I'll spend some time looking up other meal ideas and find something worth trying. I was also thinking about maybe digging out the Aerogarden and starting to grow something again, and maybe starting some seeds for the summer.
Speaking of summer, we did get the good news that our cruise final payment date is pushed off a month, so we have more time to figure out how to handle that. It seems impossible that we'll get to go, which is really sad, but if we can't go we'd at least like to get as much of our money back as possible. And now we have an extra month to see how that might play out.
Friday, March 20, 2020
IVIG
Well, we had IVIG today.
I don't think I've ever been so nervous about it before. Not even the first time. The entire hospital was a ghost town ... except the infusion center, which was hopping. I have to hope that since everyone there has a vested interest in staying healthy, that it was safe enough, but who can really know? Luckily we got a room, and we kept the door closed, and only had close contact with the one nurse so - fingers crossed?
I hate feeling like going out in the world is risky now. I hated driving home seeing all the people who were out like there was no reason not to be.
I know the benefits of going outweigh the risks.
And hey brightside - we're now fully done paying the OOP costs for all our healthcare for the year. Yaaay ... ?
I don't think I've ever been so nervous about it before. Not even the first time. The entire hospital was a ghost town ... except the infusion center, which was hopping. I have to hope that since everyone there has a vested interest in staying healthy, that it was safe enough, but who can really know? Luckily we got a room, and we kept the door closed, and only had close contact with the one nurse so - fingers crossed?
I hate feeling like going out in the world is risky now. I hated driving home seeing all the people who were out like there was no reason not to be.
I know the benefits of going outweigh the risks.
And hey brightside - we're now fully done paying the OOP costs for all our healthcare for the year. Yaaay ... ?
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