Suddenly, the chorus of some Sting song popped into my head.
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star
Like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are
How fragile we are
That’s it! That is how I’m feeling. The song references a different context, but it still applies.
ITEM: My father in law Richard has Angioimmunoblastic T-Cell Lymphoma. It’s a rare form of the disease. It took ever-so-long to get a decent diagnosis, involving him staying at hospitals in both Schenectady and Oneonta, cities 75 minutes apart, over a three-week period.
The treatment options, even early on, were uninspiring. The possible side effects of one course of treatment was having a heart attack. So that won’t happen. There are family dynamics needing to be balanced as well.
Who are you?
ITEM: A boy, 7, tested positive in Albany County for coronavirus. He is a student at the elementary school nearest my house, the school my daughter used to attend.
ITEM: The office I used to work at is on the third floor of a building downtown. Someone in another unit on that floor tested positive for COVID-19, it was announced March 16. Out of respect for her PRIVACY, we don’t know which person it is, except it is a female. The units don’t interact much, but they DO share a small breakroom. And I actually got to befriend a number of people in that other unit. So my ex-colleagues are all self-hanging out at home.
ITEM: This is not my usual behavior, but I have developed a fair case of hypochondria. Indigestion manifests in my mind as lung disease. My regular spring allergies/sore throat is, in my head, something worse. At least I recognize it as such.
ITEM: I’m really angry that he has been gaslighting us, that his decision to disband a pandemic team has hindered coronavirus response, and now that he’s FINALLY figured it out, he blames his son-in-law. The buck stops…somewhere else.
And then, at about 2 a.m. a few days ago – because I can’t sleep – I watched a couple Vlogbrothers posts: The Anxious Scroll (Hank) and Together (John). Then I read The Art of Socializing During a Quarantine.
They reminded me of what I used to do 25, 35 years ago: look through my address book and call people I had not spoken to in a while. That was it! In the morning, I was so excited to do it, even before I’d picked up the phone. It was something that got me out of my own head. I’m going to try to do that twice a day, at least.
More good news is that my church is come up with a remote connection.Virtual worship. I suspect we have to bring our own bread and juice.