Skip to main content

Tough time to be a Pollyanna



Remember when 9/11 was just a date or a number you called in an emergency? Our lives changed dramatically post 9/11. For weeks after that September day, we seemed to walk around in a fog, like the haze that loomed over the now-fallen twin towers. I remember trying to minimize my obsession with the news, trying to keep the three little Piggins away from the enormity of the disaster.

 Remember when corona was simply a beer best served with a lime wedge? It now and forever will be instead associated with this virus that has upended our world in ways we could never have imagined. This tiny little, microscopic virus has brought the mighty to their knees. It has us quarantined and distancing socially (though I believe we've been doing this emotionally for years) and working from home. As anxiety peaks, our economy tanks. As toilet paper and hand sanitizer flies off the shelves, we are looking for new ways to stock our pantries. A good friend observed, "I never thought I'd see the day when buying toilet paper was more difficult than buying pot,"! 

 I am on day six of quarantine. I've not seen anyone but my husband and dog. My children are on the east side of the state - Delaney drove from St. Louis to be with Michael and Carmen and Matthew is holed up in his dorm at UofM Law. Originally we thought they might come home; I imagined an extended snow day where we would bake cookies, binge watch some show, play games and make a holy mess and mounds of laundry. But the three not-so-little Piggins talked as Delaney was driving north and decided that it would be best not to potentially  expose me, with my MS, and John, with his heart issues. Both conditions put us in the immune compromised category.

  Today, I will  do more exercise than the diddly squat I've been doing. I feel like a slug. That may be inaccurate because I think I slug moves more. 

 Have a great shelter in place day!

 #msadvocate
#coronalime
#tomorrowisanotherday
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...
2 comments
Read more

Christmas cards

I sat down to reluctantly address Christmas cards. While our list has slowly dwindled through the years it's still a sizeable number, especially when it's viewed as a task approached reluctantly . Know what I mean? Some Christmas 'tasks' are a lot less taskier - like decorating or shopping or eating or opening presents. I mean, there's a whole different level of enthusiasm associated with 'tasks' that aren't viewed as tasks - I can't ever remember a time when I sat down to reluctantly open a present or eat a Christmas cookie! Anyway, I approached the Christmas card addressing with a less-than-positive, more bah-humbugish attitude. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the markers (I had to have a green, a red and a black one), the list and of course the envelopes (which John had already stuffed with the card). I turned on some Christmas music, but not too loud or it would distract me (and it really doesn't take much to distract me. Squirrel!),...
Post a Comment
Read more

Don't cry for me ...

Song lyrics or titles run through my mind to often sum up a situation or add humor to one. Today, it's "Don't Cry for Me Argentina". Only today the title is "Don't cry for me anybody"! I mean, I get it, that people feel bad that I've got breast cancer and that I've been living with MS for nearly 27 years. And I've had other issues that I've blogged about related to #metoo. I get that it seems like a lot looking in from the outside. I hear your comments and appreciate your support. But here's the thing, it doesn't feel overwhelming to me, looking out from the inside. Know what I mean? I live the life that I've been dealt and do it with the personality and faith I've been given. Which means, I could do one of the following: A. Have a miserable, pity-me attitude that would lead to being  miserable; B. Lean into my troubles and seek answers constantly either through research or angrily with God, which would lea...
1 comment
Read more