Ketchup

It's been a year since I hunkered down in the house to avoid exposure to the COVID virus.  A long year of being inside and trying not to give in to the natural depression that is part of my nature.  Y and I have come up with a routine that seems to work well for us, with me staying home and him doing all the errands that have to be done COVID or not, like grocery shopping and going to the post office to get the mail from my po box.  At this point in time, I'm not sure how much longer I can "do" COVID protocol, but it has helped that once a week my girlfriends and I meet at a local park and, maintaining appropriate social distancing, share lunch and gossip.  If it weren't for this interaction, I'd probably be a whole lot more depressed than I am!

Whoever would have thought that this would be a year's worth of worry?  When we first heard about this contagious disease, it was easy to think that it was "just in China," as if that made it all better.  It was a shock to learn that it was also in dozens of other nations across the globe, and that it was not going to go away anytime soon.  I don't think that any of us ever imagined the staggering number of deaths that would result from "the flu," and having a "counter" clicking off the deaths on the daily news is just a grim reality of the depths of this pandemic.

I was finally able to sign up for the vaccination, which is this Friday.  Seemed like every time we went on the website, the spots were all taken and so we waited for the next month to try to get on the list.  Part of the problem is, of course, the fact that everyone needs two appointments, not just one.  When I get my vaccine this Friday, they will automatically sign me up for the follow-up vaccination in 21 days, which means that all of this week's recipients will take up all the spots for 3 weeks from now.  Not a very good system, to say the least, but until we get a vaccine that is one and done, we have to deal with the reality of the scheduling system.

I'm tired of the sameness of life, the boring routine of "doing nothing" because there is nothing to do.  I'm a people person and used to interacting with others as part of my daily routine, so being in the house with Y and the two dogs just doesn't provide enough stimulation for my personality.  I was a classroom teacher for 30 years, and used to have people in the seats and interacting with them in a very positive, engaging environment.  Reading is too passive and for some reason I'm not able to do my handwork like I used to.  I just don't seem able to follow the patterns, and my eye/hand coordination has deteriorated, which makes knitting and crocheting and embroidery too challenging to do.  I have some projects waiting to be done, but they are going to have to wait a lot longer.

The good news is that I can still write!!  Maybe not be the cogent, coherent compositions of my past, but at least I can use a keyboard.  Maybe I should start writing that novel everyone thinks is a rite of passage for a former English teacher.  I don't have a story inside of me waiting to burst free, so guess that's not going to happen either.  My Mother always used to say, "This too shall pass," and it will eventually.  Years from now everyone will be sharing their COVID stories with their children and grandchildren, embellishing the details to make it seem much more meaningful than it is living through it now.  Sort of the old walking to school uphill both ways in the snow theory of storytelling that will have our grandchildren rolling their eyes.

All Lives Matter

The first month of this new lifestyle took some getting used to, but I made adjustments and did just fine.  But now, it's three months later and I'm over it, getting antsy and crabby, and ready to have this whole COVID thing go away.  We've seen the protests, the rioting, the looting and it breaks my heart to think of all the store owners who now have lost everything, who have nothing to go back to to get their lives back.  They spent  those months of just waiting, scrimping and saving and salvaging whatever they could out of the situation -- and now have lost everything that could have been a way up and out of the morass created by COVID because the looting and burning of businesses have taken that away.  There is no picking up the pieces when you were  just making ends meet.  Insurance will only cover so much of the losses -- and where are the records to show what was lost in the looting?  Well, they burned up as well.

It breaks my heart to be in this world right now, to listen to people demand "justice" when their way of getting it is to destroy what has been part of this country for centuries.  Beautiful monuments and statues have been defaced, torn down, torn apart.  Cemeteries honoring the lives of those who died for this country have been  desecrated.  Cities that have fought to improve their appearance and become the heart of a people's prosperity have been looted and then destroyed.  And hoodlums who are looting, stealing, vandalizing and destroying are shoving signs at the newscasters proclaiming that "Black lives matter."  If they truly mattered, those very people who want so much would never have destroyed what they did have to get it.

I was told, as a child and young adult, that I would get what I worked for:  no one was going to give me a free ride, so I'd better prepare myself to work hard in order to have a better life.  First step in the process was an education -- and one size fit all.  There were no special circumstances, no getting off the hook in the hard classes, no free ride.  If you wanted an education, you had to work hard for it, but there came a sense of pride when you completed the requirements and got to graduate.  Sure, only a few could graduate at the top of their class, and the rest of us just sort of fell into line behind them, but we all had to earn it whether with high grades and honors or barely squeeking by.  Some never made it, but almost everyone tried--and a lot succeeded beyond their expectations.  Some went onto college, most often not at one of the prestigious colleges, but, rather, at a community college or a nearby 4-year program they commuted to attend--and others?  Well, often they turned to the military for basic training in a skill that they could practice for an enlistment before getting out of the service and using those skills in their communities.  Some, the lucky ones who thrived in the military environment, made it a career and retired after 20 years with a nice little pension, still young enough to take on a second career and have a good life with their families and friends.

No one gave it to another.  It was there for the taking, but it was all on the one who wanted what life had to offer.  Hard work never hurt anyone, but sloughing off, giving up?  that hurts everyone.  If any lives matter, they all matter regardless of the size, the shape, or the color--but no one owes anyone else anything when it comes to making it through life.  We all have to make our own way, and some do better than others and some do worse, but most of us?  We find a place for ourselves and make it the best it can be.  If we want more, we try to earn more, often by going back for some additional schooling and/or training.  Sometimes, we have to change jobs because we cannot be as successful in a job as we thought we could when we chose it.  Sometimes, we have to take what we can get and be glad we got it because others tried and failed, but we made it.   Barely, but we made it and had a sense of accomplishment that gave us pride in who we are and what we can do.

I'm sick about where we are today, what we have become, who we think we are, and how far we have sunk from the ideals that were the basic precepts of life when I was "coming up," as they say.  Everything I was taught to believe has been tossed into the ruins of a looted building to burn and destroy what this nation stands for.  No one owes you anything; if you want it, go out and learn and then earn.  Work your ass off and do the best possible job of which you are capable, and earn the fruits of your labor.  You won't always get rich from paychecks, but you'll have your self-worth, your self-esteem, your pride in yourself for a job well-done personally and professionally.

Stop proclaiming that you are owed something because ... fill in the blanks.  No one owes anyone anything, but we all have the right to earn what we want or need to make our lives matter.  If you want your life to matter, make it matter first to yourself, and then to others.  Stop burning and looting and destroying and start by rebuilding your own life into the life you need it to be.  Focus on improving yourself and stop pitying yourself for what you don't have, but want.  If you truly want it, if you need it, then go out and work for it.  You'll be proud of yourself and your accomplishments and be well-respected by your fellow citizens.  All lives matter, regardless of color or creed.

Life in the Time of COVID-19

Here it is, April 22, 2020. Earth Day.  I have been in self-isolation since March 16 and I'm ready to climb the walls.  I've piddled around and done a little of this and a little of that, but mostly, I have done nothing much at all.  I've watched TV, but that becomes repetitious all too quickly; I've read some books, but I usually fall asleep; and I've taken to having a daily nap with the dogs snuggled up close.  I also have developed the habit of watching CNN and being amazed at the politics of this COVID-19 event.

One of my favorite commentators is Chris Cuomo, who was diagnosed with the virus and lived it out on TV.  He spoke about the constant fever, the extreme constriction in his chest, and his fervent prayers to get through the viral attack.  He did prevail, and he's now fine, but still has some nagging little hangers-on from the experience.  His wife did test positive, but after 14 days of quarantine, she was tested as negative.  So far, no sign of the virus in the children. And he has interesting talking topics and guests on his show, so I watch him every day and see what's going on.

Meanwhile, on the home front, Y quit his job because the employer wanted everyone at work without masks and no social distancing.  He didn't feel safe in that environment, so asked to work at home 3/4-time, going into LA once a week for a check-in.  The management would not agree to that, so Y resigned.  He did apply for, and was approved for, unemployment.  He stays with me, but did pay a month's rent on his LA apartment, giving him some time to decide what he's going to do.  He has been in contact with some potential new employers and has applied for a master's degree program in LA.  Other than that, he cooks--and he's a good cook--but he's messy as all get out!!  He doesn't have the "finish" aspect of cooking down yet, the cleaning up of the mess he makes doing the food prep and distribution.  Often I volunteer to do the dishes so I know they all get done with hot water and dish soap, and are scrubbed clean in the process.  I also clean the stove and the countertops, which Y often overlooks.  We've had some wonderful meals and I really appreciate Y's cooking, so cleaning up the kitchen afterward is a small price to pay for not having to come up with plan and the ingredients to prepare meals.

The dogs love having us both in the house, and we've upped the walk to two a day, which is met with great glee.  It's funny how the dogs have internal clocks and know what time it is during the day.  They come get me when it's time for the walk, or time for our nap, or time for our snack or a meal. The little kids are home next door, so both Sparkle and Cinnamon have to go out and supervise when the kids are in the yard playing, and often that involves barking, which is annoying.  All in all, life is good for the dogs in the neighborhood.

So, life goes on with or without me.  I'm terrified of going outside and being around people, especially those without masks, as I'm 75 years old and have asthma.  If I get the virus, it could be fatal, and I don't want to get the virus.  I have been wearing a mask to walk the dogs even though we seldom see anyone else out when we're out, so probably don't have to wear it. Y goes with us for the walks, which is really nice.  We know all the yards and dogs around our block, and feel quite comfortable in our own little corner of the world.

But believe me, I'm ready to resume some semblance of normalcy.  I want to jump in the car and go down to the post office, the drugstore, the gas station, the grocery store.  I want to feel free to meet my 2 girlfriends for our weekly lunch and a movie.  I just want to feel normal again and not have to worry about the what if's.  As my mother always used to say, this too shall pass, and it will.  We'll always remember the time of the COVID pandemic and where we were and with whom, and how it affected our lives, but we will move on from this to new adventures and events.  Stay safe and stay strong, and this too shall pass.

Dementia

So, let’s talk about dementia.  I was diagnosed coming up on a year ago based on some cognitive testing my doctor did.  He said, “Let’s be proactive” and put me on Aricept, which is commonly prescribed for dementia patients.  For the first 6 weeks, I didn’t notice any difference, but slowly I began to settle into a routine, a calm routine that sees me staying more at home than out and about.  I worry about little things, like losing myself when I’m driving (I haven’t made any errors yet), so it’s easier to stay home than it is to go somewhere.  I have places that I go regularly, which makes it easier to feel confident about getting where I need to be when I need to be there.


But, there’s a mental void, a blank spot—especially when I try to recall things that have happened or remember appointments that I’ve made.  I have two appointments that are routine for me, and those I’m doing fairly well at navigating.  One is to my therapist, with whom I feel safe and don’t often stumble mentally; the other is my regular Tuesday lunch-and-a-movie with my two girlfriends.  I know most of the restaurants we frequent, as well as the three theaters we attend for our movies, so I don’t have any driving issues with this weekly treat.  When I’m off on my own, however, I worry about losing track of where I am and where I need to be, which adds tension to my driving.  So far, I’m doing really well and I pay special attention to what is going on around me.


Recalling things is trickier.  Yucheng will remind me of something we said/did the weekend before and I have no recollection of it.  We have our routines, which is very comfortable for me, but if we change it up, I can’t remember where we went/what we did. I know the names of people I’ve always known, but if someone introduces themselves, I can’t remember what their name is even if I repeat it a dozen times. And, I found out the hard way, I don’t remember what I did yesterday, so I may redo it today.  I went to the ATM to draw out some first-of-the-month cash, went about my business, then drove back to the ATM to get out my first-of-the-month cash, not remembering that I had already done that.  It was okay because it wasn’t a lot of money, but I was completed dumbfounded when I went to put the second batch of cash into my wallet and found money already there.


One huge problem I’m having is shopping online.  Everything looks so good and I want to get it for so-and-so, so I order it.  And then I go to another site and do the same thing again.  And I go to another site and do it a third time.  Before I know it, I’ve ordered several hundred dollars’ worth of stuff I really shouldn’t have bought—even if it was something to send to my kids.  The garage is full of empty boxes, which should have been my first clue that things were out of hand, but I didn’t connect the empty boxes to empty wallet!!  I’ve been talking with my therapist and she’s holding me accountable every two weeks when I see her, which is helping.  I have a sign on the computer, right in front of my face, that reminds me:  NO ONLINE BUYING!


What I am totally thankful for is that I can still write.  I’ve always been a writer, a reader, a talker, so it’s nice to continue to be able to do these things.  However, when I read, I forget what I read the page before the one I’m now reading, and unless I take notes to keep track of what I’m reading, I can finish a book and have no idea how it started or what happened.  Sometimes I can hold content for a few days, but within a week, it’s gone. When I’m talking, I do the “drop” in the middle of what I started to say and it’s just gone—poof!  No idea what I was saying, so I just stop talking.  But with writing, I can put down what I’m thinking as I’m thinking it, and then go back sentence by sentence if I need to do so to pick up the thread of what I am writing.  The words come to me without having to think about them, and I type fast enough to be able to keep up with my thoughts as they occur.


Part of what I’m experiencing is merely a factor of my age: I’ll be 75 on June 1, so there is going to be some loss of mental acuity.  I do word games, and play a game on the computer that is called Pyramid, which requires me to match playing card numbers and erase the pyramid.  I have to work in 13s, and you have no idea how long it took me to figure out which combos of cards add up to 13!  Of course, I’ve never been a numbers person, so it’s to be expected that area of my brain needs more nurturing than my writing or reading part.  I also have joined FaceBook and really enjoy “conversing” with people on that platform.  I always try to find a powerful, positive thought to leave on others’ pages, something that will “up” their day—and mine as well.  I don’t really know most of the people, but there are quite a few former students in contact with me via FB, and that has been fun.


All in all, I’m doing fine.  I feel good and alert most of the time, but also find myself becoming stressed out in new situations or around new people.  If I know I have to remember, it seems to block my ability to recall information and/or names.  I feel that my minimal memory issues are fairly typical for my age, so I’m not overly concerned yet with the aspects of dementia that may be coming down the road.  I am healthy and I take care of myself, which is important to me on a daily basis.  I walk the dogs, run errands, go out with friends and Yucheng, and generally am feeling good.  I still have a positive attitude about this whole new phase of my life and will continue to keep on keeping on as long as I am able to do so. After that?  Well, I’ll just have to build a bridge and see where that leads me.

Powerful Words

When I started using Facebook, I pledged to myself that I would write meaningful, positive, and powerful comments or say nothing at all after I was introduced to the "crap" comments that a lot of users leave.  And the profanity.  And the grossness of the postings. If I don't have something powerful and positive to say, I say nothing. Sometimes I like a posting without adding comments, and other times I just scroll on by, wondering to myself why people put the things on a public forum that they put.

Today, I am reading a book, The Librarian of Auschwitz, written by Antonio Iturbe and translated by Lilit Zekulin Thwaites.  It is based on the true story of Dita Kraus, an Auschwitz prisoner during World War II.  I'm totally engaged in Dita's saga, but it is one of those ponderous stories that has to be read, then put down for thoughtful reflection before continuing with the next chapter.  At the end of Chapter 21, I found a profound bit of writing that really struck me:  "She asks herself, Can you really choose, or do the blows dealt to you by fate change you no matter what, in the same way that the blow of an ax converts a living tree into firewood?"

I paused as my thoughts took off on their own to several moments where fate dealt me some blows that were devastating at the time, but have become part of my life's history.  The one that came immediately to mind was my father's death when I was 17. He was such a rugged, virile man, the father of six children, all but one of whom were into their teen years, and the husband to his life's love, my mother Maria.  Mom was devastated by the loss of her beloved Forrest, and she never fully recovered. She tried to continue to live her life, but she was never the same.  My oldest brothers left home shortly after Dad's death, I went to college, which left two brothers and my only sister still at home.  One of those two brothers left within a year, and my sister and youngest brother were left at home. My mother had to go to work for the first time in her life, and she was not well prepared for the job market. Thankfully, she found a job at the Santa Barbara Public Library and had a long career there.  My youngest brother grew up never knowing his father, and it has had a profound influence on his life. And yes, the blows dealt to us by fate changed us no matter what.

All of this personal history was swirling through my head (and heart), so I decided to post the quotation that had set me to thinking and see if anyone else has had that kind of moment in their lives. My goodness, but the responses I have received are amazing. This quotation struck a cord with almost two dozen people who have shared their own "blows," and how they have influenced their lives. In deciding to write powerful and positive posts on Facebook, I opened a doorway for others to respond in kind and it really means a lot to me.