Pity Party

I'm not prone to host pity parties. In fact, the last one I had was over five years ago when I transitioned to the wheelchair. It was a good one, if memory serves, and over forty pounds joined me where they lingered, resulting in a long miserable hang-over.

But, it being a pandemic and all, I felt like hosting another pity party. I mean it's a fricking, once in a lifetime opportunity, right? Here I am, gimpy and immune compromised and shut-in for three weeks. I have my "co-workers" John, Matthew and Delaney here with me, Facetime and Zoom for human contact. But I miss my friends, family, WW coworkers and members, people at church, my pharmacist, Bill at the gas station, the owners and staff at a couple restaurants, the florist, the smart-ass cashier at Aldi, the wonderful people at the vet's office, all the healthcare workers I'd be seeing at the oncologist's/neurologist's/optometrist's/dentist's/family doc's offices and all the people I'd be connecting with while I'm out and about. And to make matters worse and my pity party better, I couldn't just go outside and walk for respite or recreation or exercise like all you 'normal' people. Couldn't just lace up my sneakers, don a jacket and step out the door. Couldn't put Wally's leash on and take my pup for a stroll. Nope. None of those things. That was the 'piece d'la resistance' or straw that broke some camel's back or final piece of straw, or whatever metaphor you want to insert. I was done, and ready to feel real sorry for myself.

But yesterday, the sunshine seemed to be especially beckoning to me. It was a balmy 50 degrees. And I thought, cancel that damn party, I'm going to get my sorry ass out to enjoy the sun and I text my friend to see it she wanted to go for a walk. Well, she'd walk and I'd roll in my fancy-dancy red scooter. And that's what we did, at a social-distance of course. 

We went along Lakeshore drive and I reminded myself how fortunate I am to live this close to Lake Michigan and it's beauty. We saw plenty of other people (at safe distances) and seeing them was a refresher as well because despite this damn pandemic, all were smiling. But the absolute bestest of bests was time with my dear friend, live and in person! We caught up on each other's lives and joked along the way (how my heart rate was or wasn't going up riding alongside in my fancy-dancy red scooter). I longed to hug Kris, to thank her for bringing me outside and out of my solo pity party. Instead, I'm here giving her a virtual hug with immense gratitude for being the amazing friend she is and always has been. Love you, Kris.

We agreed to do it more often and to invite another friend who abhors isolation more than me. And when I got home, I sent Pam a text asking her and she responded quickly with "Yes!" and then with an invite to some house party thing. Next thing I knew, I've downloaded a new social app and we're video chatting as I'm making dinner. And making more plans for walks and social distanced happy hours on the deck - which will require John and Matthew and Delaney to do some cleaning of the deck furniture.

I've cancelled the pity party.