Posted on : By : Michelle Posted in : Uncategorized

A Difficult Week

I want to preface this post by stating that I am fully aware that my “difficult week” pales to nothingness compared with that of people who are currently unemployed, employed in dangerous jobs, sick, mourning the loss of a loved one – you get the picture. I am incredibly grateful for my life, warts and all. This time of COVID-19 is challenging for all of us though, and it’s probably not helpful to shame ourselves for feeling out-of-sorts just because others have it much, much worse. 

On Tuesday I received a message from my biggest blog fan – my step-daughter Chloe. “No blog updates! I’m getting withdrawals.“ Unfortunately, I had trouble with my Messenger app this week and didn’t see her message until this morning. It was that type of week all around. As is probably true for most difficult weeks, several different factors contributed to making it so, and these factors also kept me from posting anything here until yesterday.

First of all, it was a full-on work week. I am now on my (remote) work computer a generous 40+ hours a week, and my department is in the middle of one of our busy seasons. We’re in charge of getting quarterly statements out, among other things, and although most of the first quarter 2020 statements have already gone out, we’re now trying to get the trickier ones ready to go. Over the course of the last week I prepared 313 of the 500+ that I need to sort out. Statement time has a certain amount of pressure associated with it, but like most things, I am the one who puts the most pressure on myself. I’m just a teeeeeny bit competitive, too, so let’s just pile on that internally-generated stress as well. I can’t help myself. When I worked crappy assembly-line jobs with my best friend Beth during high school and college, we would inevitably get into productivity wars with each other that tended to teeter on the knife edge between friendly competition and bitter rivalry.

So, work’s been challenging. That’s one thing.

Something else that weighed on me this week was the arrival of May 1st. Now, I knew better than to think that with May 1st would come some form of normality. Back in mid-March when this all began, May did seem sufficiently far in the future that the idea of a new normal emerging in May appeared plausible. And governor DeWine has outlined a cautious plan for reopening Ohio, which began with okay-ing elective surgeries and opening up stores (both with caveats). But even with the governor’s OK, I don’t feel like it’s safe enough out there to do anything but my grocery shopping. I mean, nothing’s changed with respect to the virus – it’s still out there as much as it was on April 30. So, we continue to hunker down, and I am incredibly grateful that I work for a company that follows DeWine’s guidance to a T. We are not only continuing to work from home (with a few exceptions), but they have bought us all new computers to help us work from home more easily (many of us have pieced together decidedly sub-standard work stations from whatever computers we had at home).

But even though all this is good from the prospect of what is most important – my health and the health of my family, friends, and neighbors – I am tired. This marathon is wearing me down.

I was scheduled to see my oncologist yesterday (actually my oncologist’s nurse practitioner – I don’t see my actual oncologist again unless the cancer comes back, so I hope I never see her lovely face again). That appointment usually brings with it a little stress, and this time it had to be accomplished over the phone. Not ideal. I sort of rely on the nurse practitioner giving me my gold star each visit after a thorough physical exam to carry me over to the next appointment (they started off every three months and now we are down to every six months). When we were wrapping up the call and she said, “OK, we’ll schedule you to come see me in six months” I whined, “I won’t see you for six months???” So now I have an in-person appointment scheduled for July. Squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Finally, although I have seen the death toll get larger and larger every day since this thing first hit my consciousness (I screen-shot the Johns Hopkins figures every night, remember?), it really hit home this week. A coworker lost not only her elderly mother, but a not-elderly cousin within the last two weeks, both from coronavirus. When I received her email, I immediately started crying. It was like someone turned on a switch and I fully understood that this is real. This is not something going on “out there.” It shook me, and I remain shaken. And when I went grocery shopping on Thursday and swung by the greeting card aisle to buy a Mother’s Day card and card of condolence for my coworker, I saw this:

Now, I had seen similar photos in news updates, but I always sort of thought the photos were taken in places like New York and New Jersey, not in tiny midwestern suburbs. 

I know that I need to come to grips with this situation, because not only does it look like I may be working from home through the rest of spring and summer, but we will be continuing to hunker down regardless of what is technically allowed by the government for at least another couple of months (to be re-evaluated if the situation changes). I’ve dealt with the concept of “new normal” before with my cancer, but there’s a difference here. The new normal I am living due to my experience with cancer is a life-long new normal. I will never have breasts again; I will never have a life in which I don’t immediately think “cancer” (even if it’s for a split second) when I get a headache; I will never be able to be carefree about drinking a margarita on a Saturday night. Those changes range from mildly annoying to traumatic, but they are permanent, and therefore easier for me to adjust to. The current situation we are in is not only temporary but of uncertain length. Presumably we will be able to go back to our pre-coronavirus lifestyle when a vaccine is readily available. Whenever that is. But maybe we’ll feel comfortable doing some of the things we used to enjoy, like going to the library or having a coffee in a coffee shop, sooner than that. I really don’t know. And that is what makes this so hard.

But today is Saturday. I’m not turning on my work computer. The sun is shining. I’m finishing up a small jigsaw puzzle that I’m loving. We’re making our own chicken wings tonight to have while we watch a movie (I’m thinking maybe the new Emma). We are incredibly privileged and lucky to be healthy and safe, and that is what I am going to dwell on for the rest of today. 

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Posted on : By : Michelle Posted in : Uncategorized

In Which My Heart Grows Three Sizes

In anticipation of the “Stay at Home” order which takes effect tonight at 11:59, I popped over to our local crafting store, JoAnn’s Fabrics, this morning. I have a couple projects I’m working on (which I’ll reveal here sometime this week, hopefully) and I needed some supplies. JoAnn’s is a national chain that just happens to have its headquarters, and a large flagship store, in the town where I live. 

As I was roaming the aisles, maintaining a 6-foot bubble of protection around me, I heard a couple of women talking to one of the employees about a project they each happened to be working on. When the employee mentioned, “This much fabric should be enough to make 30 masks,” it dawned on me. The customers were preparing to sew surgical masks to help local hospitals.

I knew about this movement, started in response to the dangerously low supplies of personal protective equipment in many of this country’s major hospitals. Volunteers across the country are sewing masks, sharing patterns, and posting tutorials on YouTube. On JoAnn Fabric’s website there is a page dedicated to supporting this volunteer effort.

Even though I knew this sort of thing was going on, actually seeing people buying the fabric for their face mask projects choked me up. Seeing the goodness of these people and their eagerness to help during this scary time just made me feel like the Grinch when his heart grows three sizes.

Which brings us to my next stop this morning – Open Door Coffee. We’ve been buying carryout coffee at Open Door ever since governor DeWine’s order that closed all Ohio bars and restaurants to in-house customers (which seems like ages ago but was only 8 days ago), in an effort to help support our favorite local business. Deborah (the owner) and her crew of exceptional young people have been so good to us over the years. As I approached the front door, I saw the sign below and my heart sunk:

Inside, I asked a solemn-looking Deborah what was going on. I knew that under the provisions of the Stay at Home order Open Door could continue operating for take out. Deborah said that even though she could technically stay open for the duration of the order, she didn’t feel that she could adequately protect her employees. She said, “It’s a decision that makes my stomach hurt, but I know it’s the right thing to do.” Sigh. 

When I left my house this morning for these two errands, I had no idea what was in store for me – compelling evidence that although there still may be people hoarding and fights over toilet paper in grocery stores, there are many more people out there quietly doing the best that they can.

Be safe out there, friends. xoxo

Posted on : By : Michelle Posted in : Uncategorized

Social Distancing – Introvert’s Dream?

The playground at the end of our street

First of all, I want to be the first to predict that, when the big dictionary companies announce their “Word of the Year” for 2020, “social distancing” will be the clear winner. In years to come, when this pandemic is just a memory, the words “social distancing” will remain laden with connotation for all of us.

I am an introvert. When someone asks me if I’m planning to go to a certain social gathering, I’ll often ask “Will there be people there?” And I’m only half kidding. Maybe a quarter kidding. 

Actually, not kidding at all.

Don’t get me wrong. I love people. I love humanity, with all of its flaws. And I love friendship and spending time with friends. As a huge fan of L.M. Montgomery’s book “Anne of Green Gables”, I have always been on the search for what Anne calls “kindred spirits.” Kindred spirits are not always easy to spot. Sometimes it’s the person you’d least expect and they reveal themselves when you least expect it. I love the C.S. Lewis quote, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” One of my most treasured friendships was born at a library story time when I was sitting next to a woman whose three year old had done something outrageous. I whispered to her, “mine does that all the time,” and in that moment we bonded. I consider her a “bosom chum” even though we live far apart and don’t communicate near as much as we should. 

There are many articles already written about how introverts are reacting to social distancing. This (tongue in cheek, I hope) article suggests that introverts “have been inadvertently training to fight coronavirus for years. And, even when it settles down, they’ll be ready for the next pandemic”. There are humorous memes floating about the internet on the matter that suggest that the social distancing associated with COVID-19 is an introvert’s dream.

I must admit there is a part of me that is happy I have enough food on hand that I don’t need to go to the grocery store for the next couple of weeks. The overcrowded stores associated with panic buying leave me completely drained of emotional energy. And I have to say that when I saw a photo of an almost empty Times Square the other day, a sense of calm came over me, like it might come over you when you see a photo of the ocean.

However, social distancing is not this introvert’s dream.

I will miss seeing our friend Daniel at the coffee shop each Saturday. He and his wife Joyce have become good friends of ours, and I’m glad that we recently went out to eat with them because it’s uncertain when we will be able to do that again. Daniel is in an especially vulnerable group and they just cannot risk any unnecessary contact. I will miss going to Chili’s on Saturday night and enjoying the company of our favorite bartenders, Michelle and Lisa. And I worry about how they will manage now. I worry about our local coffee shop, Open Door. It is owned and run by Deborah and staffed by the most lovely young people I have ever had the good fortune to meet. They are open for carry-out, so I will see them on a limited basis, but I worry how this social distancing will affect Deborah’s business. Today I bought a St. Patrick’s Day gift for Chris in the form of a large gift card to Open Door that he can use after this crisis is over. I got the gift card idea from an article on how to support local businesses that may be affected by social distancing.

There are some small silver linings that almost feel selfish to enjoy given the deadly nature of the dark cloud, but I believe that it’s important to my mental health to always find things to be grateful for amidst any situation. I am enjoying the at-a-distance interactions I’m having with fellow neighborhood-walkers these days. Our cheerful “hello” and “stay safe!” greetings make me feel that although we are deliberately staying at least six feet away from each other, we are in this together. When I walk each morning I usually have to be very careful about the timing and sometimes take an alternate route in order to avoid the noxious diesel exhaust of the school bus as it stops and starts through the neighborhood.  All schools are canceled here now, most likely through the end of the year, and so I’m grateful for the clean air each morning. Sam is home from school now, a month and a half early, and I am grateful for the extra time we will have together. Finally, at work we have transitioned to a skeleton crew. For the time being, I only go in 2-3 days a week. I am grateful to have the extra time to spend with my family and work on things like this blog.

I saw a meme once that said “Relax. Nothing is under control.” I’m trying to relax into this temporary “new normal” – to accept what is, do what I can, and continue to look for the silver linings. Sometimes all that you can control is your attitude toward what is happening. Over the next couple of days, I will be sharing some things in my life that help me keep my attitude on the positive side.

Take care, friends. xoxo

Posted on : By : Michelle Posted in : Uncategorized

Better Angels of Our Nature

“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.” -Abraham Lincoln, inaugural address, 1861

We are living in trying times. The global pandemic we are now experiencing comes on top of already strained human relations due to political and religious extremism, a dangerously warming planet, and a general fear for our future and the future of our children. And it’s not bringing out the best in many people. Let’s face it, we humans have our dark side, not just on the grand scale of Holocaust and Slavery but on the basic level of unkind thoughts, selfishness, gossip…the list could go on for a while. We look at videos of people fighting over toilet paper with horror and disgust and forget that three and a half months ago we were looking at videos of people fighting over televisions on Black Friday. Perceived scarcity is not our best look.

But thank goodness that’s not the whole story. For every story you hear about someone who breaks quarantine or persists in shaking everyone’s hand in spite of being exposed to the virus, there are many unheard stories of people being extra vigilant – not out of a sense of self preservation (98.9 percent of those who contract the virus will not die from it, after all) but from a sense of civic duty and a desire to protect everyone’s “nana and granddaddy,” to paraphrase US Surgeon General Jerome Adams.

I was listening to the podcast “On Being with Krista Tippett” recently and she was interviewing Nicholas Christakis, who runs the Human Nature Lab at Yale University. Christakis studies not only how humans come together to form a good society through our capacities for love, friendship, cooperation, and teaching, but how these capacities have been formed by strong evolutionary forces. In other words, these positive capacities are part of what has ensured our survival as a species and are therefore deeply ingrained. Although we can sometimes despair that humans are becoming less good over time, some studies have shown that we are actually becoming less violent and more cooperative (one critical look at that assertion can be found here). As Christakis says, “You don’t need to just look at what I would regard as relatively recent historical and cultural forces to get an account of a good life. Deeper, more powerful, more ancient forces are at work, propelling a good society, endowing us with these wonderful capacities, which were always there, are still there, are unavoidable; and if anything, these moves that we’ve made as a species in the last few hundred years are, again, as I’ve said, the thin veneer over this more fundamental reality of the better angels of our nature.” 

Saturday night Chris, Sam, and I were all feeling worn out by our efforts to stay informed and well prepared, the constant low level of anxiety and sense of claustrophobia that news of the pandemic invokes, and the frustration of knowing leaders at the top level of our government have failed us. Chris suggested that we watch something uplifting on TV, specifically the movie “Arrival.” It reminded me of how much I love movies about alien-human contact. Not the “Independence Day” type of movie where the aliens just want to annihilate all humans. No, I like movies like “Contact”, “Arrival”, and “Star Man” – movies that use the storytelling device of alien-human contact as a way to shed light on human nature. These three movies all show the dark side of humans (fear, violence, suspicion, militarism), but also our strength and beauty. In Contact, the alien Jodie Foster’s character encounters comments, “You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You’re capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you’re not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.” 

Be safe out there, beautiful dreamers. xoxo