After last week’s entry, I sort of got my act back together. There is something about publicly declaring despair that somehow subdues it, puts it in perspective, and makes you just get on with living.
Last week, Son #1 was tested for Covid-19. Over the weekend, his temperature consistently stayed in the 102.5 range. His most severe symptoms were his temperature and an incredibly sore throat.
As I mentioned before, he is prone to drama. Essentially, he was convinced that he was dying of Covid-19. This is somewhat understandable. If you went to the doctor, and they suggested you be tested for Covid-19 because your symptoms warranted it, you might just do the same.
We waited, and while we waited, we googled everything we could think of to try and figure out what was happening.
While he did have some of the symptoms of Covid-19, he was not developing any new Covid-19 symptoms. Instead, he started to demonstrate more mono-like symptoms—in particular, a RASH. This was a welcome development.
On Monday, the doctor’s office called to say that his second testing for strep was negative. On Tuesday, the hospital called to say that his Covid-19 test was negative. So, in this strange world that we now live in, we are currently celebrating the fact that he has mono. It’s a good thing.
This virus is forcing us all to grapple with the burden of the unknown. How much can you carry on your back, in the pit of your stomach, along side the moments of your daily life? Does the more you explore the condition of uncertainty make you better or worse?
I don’t know.
When can we go back to our lives?
Well, according to pretty much every expert and every logical person out there we need to do the following things.
Hospitals must be able to safely treat all patients requiring hospitalization without resorting to crisis standards of care.
Each state needs to be able to at least test everyone who has symptoms and conduct monitoring of confirmed cases and contacts.
And, finally, each state must see a sustained reduction in cases for at least 14 days.
It seems like we should be able to agree on this and move forward, but for lots of really silly reasons it appears that we cannot.
While the urge to be sad and stressed on this state of affairs is overwhelming, I am going to choose to double down on hope.
What does hope look like?
I think it just might involve the abandonment of normal. The shedding of practices that no longer serve us. The thoughtful consideration of what life might look like if we could indeed kind of, sort of, start over.
What would you keep? What would you jettison? What would you give? What would you take? Can we talk about these things in a civilized manner?
I am trying to focus my thoughts and energies on this. I hope you will think about it too.