Never Forget

I’ve been unofficially off of Facebook for a week now. I didn’t do anything drastic or dramatic like suspend my account, or deactivate or anything like that. I just stopped logging in and the world didn’t blow up. Of course, this has been a long time coming. Y’all remember back in January when I started limiting myself to fifteen minutes a day? That’s paid off. Really set me up for success for this part. But I did log in yesterday. It was my birthday and I knew my page would be flooded with well wishes, so I logged in last night to comment and thank everyone, and that was about the time the Chiefs’ game started. About the time the “Never Forget” people came out in full force. Then I remembered why I hadn’t logged in for a week. Then I wrote a status and went to bed, sorta full up on birthday wishes, sorta let down by humans again. Life’s a crapshoot these days. Anyway, I’ll share below what I signed off with, but if you do one thing today, please make it be checking your voter registration status. Do it for me. Won’t you?

Stay safe and sane, y’all.

M.

My FB status for 9/11:

I’m heading to bed tonight already being asked to remember that horrific day 19 years ago when thousands of Americans lost their lives on 9/11. Begging me to never forget.

I’m seeing this in between white people complaining that the NFL supports “racial equality” and they “just can’t” support the NFL. I’m seeing true colors shine tonight, and those colors aren’t pretty.

I’m seeing that while I read nearly 200,000 Americans have lost their lives on American soil to COVID-19 in six months.

I’m seeing that the week Homeland Security named white, American, right-wing men the number one terrorist threat to our country.

I’m seeing that as I read 1,100 Black men are murdered by the police in our country every year.

That American police murder 3 people a day, on average.

That thousands of soldiers have lost their lives in the last 19 years. That many thousands more will become wounded and develop such horrific PTSD that they will end their own lives, or the lives of those they love.

I’m seeing all that. Are you?

You’re asking me to never forget. I’m asking you, as I head to bed tonight, to remember too. Every day. Always. All of this. I’m asking you to be a better citizen, a better American, a better human being.

Our Kids

It’s 4:45 am, I’m wide awake and I just read this grim-ass statistic: 97,000 kids tested positive for Covid-19 last week. 97,000 kids. Meanwhile, we’ve got a president who’s going around saying that kids are “basically immune.” Listen, it might not impact kids the same as adults, but it’s getting to them. And every parent knows when your kid is sick, it sucks. And you wish you could be the one sick. You wish you could trade places with them, take their pain away. And this is all on top of the fact that our kids have been watching us panic, stress, or argue about Coronavirus for six months now. It’s a stressful time for kids, knowing that school is looming and they may have to battle this sickness or not go to school when they just want their normal lives back.

Bleh.

I have no real answers this morning, I’m just sad. I’m sad and scare for our kids. Keep your head up parents, and remember who is watching.

Stay safe and sane, y’all.

M.

Day Four

It’s day four of antibiotics and steroids. I keep waiting to wake up and feel like a million bucks, but the bucks aren’t coming. Still self-isolating while I wait for my Covid-19 test results. Jackson and Jerimiah aren’t exhibiting any symptoms which is good, but I’m still worried. We hoped for results today, but that was being optimistic of us. Jerimiah said he had a “white man moment” assuming that we’d get the results back at the earliest point mentioned. He’s funny, and overthinks sometimes like I do, but honestly it’s all probably just backlogged here. Meanwhile, my symptoms haven’t slowed, and I’ve developed some new ones. I’m playing this game of trying to think up reasons for the symptoms, like maybe my muscles ache because I slept wrong, or maybe I couldn’t taste my food because my nose is stuffy. Things like that.

I have two modes in most crisis situations: I either overreact immediately or, because I know that is a possibility, I under-react (is that a word?) as a means to combat the craziness that tries to sneak in. I felt myself wanting to overreact on Friday when no doctor would see me in person, so I’ve been mitigating that with this fun game of, “Chill, girl. You’re good. This is all just a funny, little mix up.” Ugh. It’s stressful. Stress! Maybe that’s what is causing the constant headache and joint pain!

So there you go. Day four of symptoms that I don’t usually have, that align pretty closely to the symptoms of a global pandemic I’ve spent the last four months actively striving to keep away from, in the middle of my husband’s birthday week. I slept alone in our bed last night, we decided Jerimiah should move to the couch. He’s not all the way down in the guest wing in the basement, not yet. I won’t let him. That’s too final. For now, just the couch. Tomorrow, who knows.

Hope you’re all staying safe, and wearing your GD masks!

M.

It’s a Monday…

I’m not feeling particularly well these days. I woke up Thursday with what I thought might be a cold or a sinus infection, then Friday morning I woke up with a fever and body aches. I thought for a second that I was getting the flu, then realized it isn’t really flu season. Within three hours I was seen by a doctor via video chat, was starting a round of prednisone, and am currently in self-isolation until my Covid-19 results come back (I was able to do that so quickly because I have health insurance, money for an urgent care copay, and Emory University Hospital ten minutes away. I’ve been thinking all weekend about people who don’t have those things…) I feel horrible, but not just physically, mentally and emotionally too.

We are knee deep in Jerimiah’s birthday week. I had plans, lots of plans. But plans change. Yesterday the coughing started. I began to feel myself pulling away from hugging my kid. I won’t know for sure until I have the results, but it’s a scary time we live in.

Mentally I know I’ll be okay even if I do have it. Something like 80% of cases are mild and treated at home, but there’s always that other percentage. My biggest fear is passing it to others, which I may have mistakenly done not knowing I had it. If I have it.

Obviously it’s a damn Monday around here. Not the best one I’ve had in awhile, not the worst. Hoping for a call from the doctor today. Hoping for a negative test. Hoping it’s a sinus infection, that I will have more energy, that I will finish this week strong for my husband, not worry my son. Lots of hopes going out into the world today. If you’re sending some put will ya send one out for me too? I’d appreciate it.

Stay safe and sane, y’all. I’ll keep you posted.

M.

Hashtag Blessed

Woke up this morning thinking that I’m too stressed to feel blessed. You read that right: I’m too stressed to feel blessed. My stress level is off the charts. I’m not home during a global pandemic. I’ve got my kid traveling all over, seeing people who have not been taking this pandemic seriously. The lack of masks, social distancing, and isolation here is crazy. People are totally pretending like the numbers aren’t spiking. They think wearing a mask is sufficient. What the what? I want to be back at my house, alone, ordering my groceries again. I’m scared. I’m stressed. And if you aren’t, you are not paying attention.

Don’t get me wrong I’m having a good time, occasionally. Occasionally I forget that the world is a shitbag, upside place. Occasionally I drink so much wine with my husband and best friend that I forget. Or I’m on the lake, enjoying a boat ride. Like yesterday when we rolled up at the marina to get gas and snacks. It’s called “What’s Up Dock” and it’s cute, and lively, and had all the gas, Sprite, and potato chips we needed. They also has a ton of people. People walking around aimlessly, asking about jet ski rentals, and trying on “Table Rock” t-shirts, buy one, get one free. For a split second I forgot about Covid-19. It all seemed so normal. So free. So every, other summer of my life. Then I remembered.

I saw a bumper sticker on a car coming up here: “Too Blessed to be Stressed.” I smiled and thought, wouldn’t that be nice.

M.

Wear Masks, Stay Home

Why is this so hard for people to understand? There are legitimately people traveling again. Like taking cross-country trips. For real. Hot tip! Don’t come to Georgia. We still have a lot of active cases, and we don’t need you bringing in more! Just got a text that says I need to wear a mask in public at all times. Then jumped on FB to see people crossing state lines for “fun” and “vacation” and without masks, and hanging out with family members they haven’t been quarantined with. Meanwhile experts are begging us to stop. The cities are shut down, and now the virus is moving to the rural areas. And no one seems to be taking it seriously. I might be overly cautious, but you might not be cautious enough. I’m sure there’s a middle ground here, but what are you risking it?

Stay the fuck home.

Wear a mask when you go to essential places.

Dining in at Longhorn isn’t essential.

Stop spreading this or we will never get better.

And thank you to those people who still realize our world is in danger. People, maybe not people we know and love, but others, are still a risk. Thanks for staying home for the greater good. We’re the ones flattening the curve. We’re the ones making a difference here. Stay strong.

It’s almost over.

M.