Tag: shelter in place

Posted on in caregiving, disabilities, health, opinion, teaching

You have the Power to Save Lives

You have the power to stop Covid19 and save lives simply by following the guidelines of health professionals. That’s it.

No one is asking you to stay home to take away your liberties. No one is asking you to take precautions to inconvenience you. And absolutely no one wants to shut down the economy and destroy people’s lives and futures because of politics. No one.

You are being asked to shelter in place to protect and care for those most vulnerable, people like my daughter, my father, my sister-in-law, and all the medically fragile kids I work with. And by doing so you also protect yourself and the people in your family. Covid19 attacks young and old, healthy and frail, which is why everyone needs to be vigilant.

Please. I am begging you.

You are a part of a community. What you do impacts your family, friends, co-workers and neighbors. Being an American doesn’t make you invincible or give you the right to put everyone else at risk. Just like there is a difference between Freedom of Speech and Hate Speech, there is a difference between Personal Liberty and Negligence.

Millions of people are suffering right now from fear, illness, and poverty. We all want to get back to work, including me. I’m one of the lucky ones who can work from home, but as a teacher, I would much rather be with my students at school where I can help them cope with the impact of this pandemic. If we open our doors and all return to work and school too quickly, more people will die. We must wait. And wait…

I don’t know what the future will bring for myself, my students, or my daughter. All I know is right now, today, I can take care of my child, myself and my community by staying home, washing my hands, wearing a mask and gloves when I must go to the store and waiting. That is all any of us can do.

Posted on in health, life, medical

The Sickness

Rhia is slowly understanding that something very strange is happening in the world right now. She calls it “The Sickness.”

“The library is still closed? It’s been closed for weeks!” she says, putting her library books back on the shelf where she keeps them separate from her own books.

“I know, but there are a lot of people sick right now, so the library needs to stay closed,” I say.

“First everybody is sick at your work, and now there is a sickness at the library… That’s silly!”

“You’re right. It is.”

“Why is everybody so sick?”

“There’s a bad germ that can make people sick. That’s why we’re staying home so we don’t get sick too. And if we stay home it helps other people not get sick.”

Rhia is quite for a moment, then she says, “I remember when I was little there was a sickness at my school and we all had to get a shot. I didn’t like that.”

Many years ago there was a meningitis outbreak at Rhia’s Elementary school. “I remember, too.”

“I didn’t like getting a shot. Do they have a shot for the sickness now?”

“No. That’s part of the problem. If there was a shot, then people wouldn’t get so sick.”

“Hmmm…” Then she asks, sounding worried, “Do people always get sick in San Francisco?”

“No. This is just a weird sickness happening now, but not always.”

“When will people stop getting sick?”

“I don’t know. Maybe in the summer.”

“It doesn’t make any sense! Why is the sickness now?”

“No one knows, Sweetie. We just have to wait until it ends.”

“I think that’s just silly!”

“I agree.”

She thinks again, then says, “Can we go to the library next week?”

I don’t know how to tell her Disneyland is closed too.

Posted on in caregiving, disabilities, health, life, mitochondrial disease, special needs, strength

Survival Skills from Rhia

Rhia and I are sitting together watching Frozen in the middle of a rainy Sunday afternoon. We’re safe and healthy, blessed with a warm house to shelter in and plenty of food. During this time of so much sickness, what more do we really need? The interesting thing is that not much has changed in our daily lives. Before Covid19, Rhia and I lived a quiet life. We rarely went out to eat or visit friends. Our life pretty much revolved around trips to the library and to Starbucks for a hot chocolate. Occasionally people came over, but that too was rare. About once a month I had caregiving coverage so I could go out with friends. So our ordinary life is about the same, except for the library being closed.

Isolation is nothing new to us. Neither is fear. Rhia and I have lived with the uncertainty of an undiagnosed disease since she was born. Every time Rhia gets a cold or a high fever I wonder if this will be the one that puts her back in the hospital. She almost died once after a flu and then a few years later she was hospitalized with pneumonia. The slow decline of her physical health coupled with the lack of a diagnosis means we have no idea how long she will live. One more year? 5? 10? Her doctor’s thought she’d never reach age 20 but she’s almost 25. Every prediction has been wrong. Living with a see-saw of hope and fear makes us prepared for the uncertainty of this pandemic.

This isn’t some kind of “welcome to my world” post. Not at all! I am heartbroken that millions of people in the world are facing illness and death and the constant uncertainty about tomorrow. I know what it’s like to be broke and unable to work because you have to care for loved ones, and I wish no one had to deal with that. I am grieving for everyone and praying for a miracle, just like everyone else.

But what I’ve realized during this Shelter In Place is that Rhia has taught me incredible skills about survival. She has taught me how to live right now, enjoy all of the small moments of life, and feel gratitude. She has taught me it is okay to feel afraid, sad, or angry, and that you should give yourself time to grieve when you need to. She’s taught me how to get up in the morning when I really didn’t want to. She taught me how to walk with fear and not let it overpower me.

I’ve also learned very practical skills, like stock up on essentials before you need them. I never knew when Rhia might get sick or just too tired to go to the store, so I always have supplies (including TP) to get us through a couple of weeks. A few times I’ve needed something urgently so I called a friend or Instacart. When we first moved here I set up our Earthquake kit, which means I already have plenty of water and batteries. I always fill up the gas at a half tank and carry tools to repair her wheelchair everywhere we go. I also have managed to scrimp and save a couple of months of survival money. When you live with constant uncertainty you learn to be ready.

There have been times when I’ve resented Rhia’s disability, especially lately. I long for my own life, one that doesn’t include constant interruptions of sleep. I want to travel, but who will care for Rhia? I resent her dads who get to live their own lives and friends who go to all those places I long to see. But right now, I feel blessed. I am scared and tired and stressed out, but blessed. Rhia and I are safe and we have everything we need to get through the pandemic. We are both healthy and I pray we stay that way. Travel and going out aren’t important. What matters is love and caring for each other. I will care for Rhia for as long as she needs me, and she cares for me in a thousand ways that it took a pandemic for me to see.

When the pandemic ends, and it will, I won’t forget what I have learned. I pray none of us do.