La Multi Ani!

Nu țin minte când ne-am cunoscut prima dată că eu aveam probabil câteva zile. Dar știu sigur ca m-ai iubit din prima zi. Am simțit asta toata viața.

Primele amintiri pe care le am cu tine sunt când aveai părul lung si negru ca pana corbului – Andy urma sa îl aibă la fel, mai târziu. Toate fetele din familie îl aveau scurt si făcut “permanent”, dar al tău era lung, negru si iți curgea lin pe spate. Mereu m-am gândit ca așa ai fost mereu: cu bun simț si eleganță, ai sfidat orice regulă si conformism, si ai ales mereu sa fii tu însăși, altfel … Asta am admirat mult la tine. 

Mi-aduc aminte că îmi doream din suflet sa port si eu ochelari, ca tine. Mi se părea ca ești așa de interesanta cu părul lung si ochelari cu lentile fumurii. Astea aveau a mă fascina mult timp cat mi-am căutat si eu o identitate.  

De multe ori copiii vor să fie mai aproape de mătușa lor decât de părinți, pentru ca mătușa nu ii ceartă, nu ii disciplinează. Ii iubește necondiționat si ii răsfață cu orice ocazie. Așa ai fost tu pentru mine și ești, și cu 46 de ani mai târziu. Mereu te-am simțit aproape și ți-am căutat si apreciat sfatul.

Mereu m-a uimit si atras puterea ta de a reveni la normal după multe tragedii repetate. Din multele pierderi din viață ta ai revenit mai puternică, mai senină, mai frumoasă, mai tânără … Calmul si dorința ta neclintită de a merge mai departe, in ciuda tuturor neșanselor m-au călăuzit in multe decizii din viață mea.

De ziua ta îmi amintesc de drumeția asta minunată pe care am petrecut-o împreună, parte din aceeași familie nebunatică, tu – mereu ancora si tărâmul calm al tuturor tribulațiilor noastre, a tuturor celor din jurul tău; noi – mereu îndreptându-ne spre tine, ca spre un far călăuzitor.

Rodi, iți mulțumesc din inimă pentru tot ce ai fost si ești pentru noi toți! Iți datorăm atât de mult că nu vom putea sa te răsplătim vreodată. Mă rog sa fii răsplătită tu însutit cu sănătate, putere fizică, siguranță financiară și nu numai, dar mai ales cu liniște si pace in toți anii (mulți pe care ți-i doresc!) care vor urma.

Te iubim, cu dor si drag, mereu …

Si, pandemie sau nu, păstrează credința că ne vom vedea curând. La mulți ani, te îmbrățișam cu drag! 

Glorious Day!

On February 27, …

… 1560, the treaty that expelled the French from Scotland was signed.

… 1776, the Battle of Moore's Creek Bridge in North Carolina broke up a Loyalist militia during the American Revolutionary War. (Some things are awfully stubborn to go away, aren't they?!)

… 1812, poet Lord Byron gave his first address as a member of the House of Lords.

… 1860, Lincoln made a speech at Cooper Union in New York that was largely responsible for his election to the presidency.

… 1900, the Brits founded the Labour Party.

… 1902, Detroit, MI held its first auto show. (Coincidence? Methinks not!)

… 1922, a challenge to the Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, allowing women the right to vote, is rebuffed by the Supreme Court. (as it should have been!)

… 1940 – Carbon 14 (or radiocarbon) is discovered.

... Constantine the Great, the emperor (272), John Steinbeck, the Nobel Prize-winning writer (1902), Joanne Woodward, the actress (1930), and Dame Elizabeth Taylor (1932) were born.

We also have a full moon today and today is also, … International Polar Bear Day. (no joke!)

So many important milestones, but the most important one is … you!

Reading through all of them reminded me of you: serious and professional, dark, funny, explosive, literary, lover of creatures and everything British, artsy, principled and opinionated, admirer of history and politics, as good with your hands as you are with your brain, hopeless soldier of love, respectful and all wrapped up in jest and clever wit. 

Only you are much, much more:  my love, my friend, my soul twin, my mate in strangeness, my anchor, my calming waters.

Happy birthday, my love! I am forever blessed that I get to spend another day to celebrate you.

O Nouă Zi. Un Nou An.

Sunt oameni in viața noastra pe care nu îi alegem - părinții, frații, surorile ... Ne sunt dați și fie că ne place, fie că nu ne place, vor face mereu parte din viața noastră. Într-un fel sunt parte intrinsecă din cine suntem și suntem parte și noi din cine sunt ei ... Acești oameni sunt organic integrați în materialul din care suntem făcuți; suntem atât de aproape, prin sânge, că mă întreb câteodată dacă ne mai aducem aminte cum “ne-am întâlnit”, de unde venim fiecare, care ne sunt intențiile, visele ...

Sunt oameni pe care îi alegem noi - prieteni, colegi, cunoștințe, soți sau soții. Care nu au obligații de sânge de a ne fi aproape și nici noi nu avem față de ei. Când relațiile cu aceștia durează ani și ani ... și ani ... putem spune că am ales bine. 

Apoi mai este o categorie de oameni - cei nealeși de noi, dar aleși de cei care ne sunt aproape, sau cei din familia noastră. Rude prin alianță, ii denumim. Așa căpătăm cumnati și cumnate, nași, câteodată veri si verisoare. Aceștia sunt o categorie mai aparte - nu i-am ales și nu ne-au ales nici ei, dar nu sunt aleși nici de soartă, ca rudele de sânge, deși într-un fel ... sunt ... aleși de rudele de sânge. 

Cumnatul meu a apărut în viața mea acum circa 25 de ani. 25! Eram alți oameni atunci, parcă despărțiți de cine suntem astăzi de veacuri de evolutie! 

Astăzi, de ziua lui, mă gandesc cu drag la acești 25 de ani! Deși nu ne-am ales unul pe altul, am făcut parte din aceeași familie de 25 de ani. E interesant cum se împletesc drumurile vieții! 

Până acum 25 de ani, noi nu existam din punctul nostru de vedere individual. Și astăzi, după 25 de ani, nu-mi pot imagina familia noastră fără el ...Am fi mai nu numai mai puțini, dar am fi și mai puțin ... cu siguranță mai altfel pentru că ne-ar lipsi tot unicul pe care îl poate aduce doar el. 

Mă gandesc astăzi la momentele de bucurie din acești ani și la cele mai triste - toate petrecute alături, în aceeași familie: petreceri, vacanțe la mare, concedii, nunți, pierderile celor dragi, divorțuri, cariere, multiple locuințe în care ne-am simțit în familie, mese bogate împărtășite la multe ocazii deosebite ... Gânduri bune si de dor, mai cu seamă de bine, pe care ni le-am urat peste ani. Totul, toată această viață culminând cu cei doi copii minunati pe care ni i-a adăugat familiei noastre, rotunjind-o și făcând-o cu adevărat completă. 

Când o alianță de acest fel durează peste ani și ani nu poți sa fii decât recunoscător și să admiri constanța și dragostea acestor rude alese de a rămâne lângă noi și a contribui zilnic la materialul unic ce alcătuiește familia noastră dodoloață. 

La mulți ani, Gabi! Multă sănătate și mulți ani înainte împreună cu noi toți ...

The Baby Is 10!

"Shake dreams from your hair

My pretty child, my sweet one.

Choose the day and choose the sign of your day

The day's divinity

First thing you see.” (Jim Morrison - Awake)

I remember when I saw you the first time. You were a couple of months old. I tried to come earlier, to be there for your birth but you had to come in your own due time. So, you came a little ways after I had left. 

I came back and you were maybe 2-3 months old and your little baby face was not a baby face at all. It was wide awake, aware, almost judgmental. Your dad said you looked so smart that you stared at everyone in the room as if we were all too stupid for you. It was probably true. We are. 

When did the 10 years go, I don’t know?!

You are becoming such an amazing human, Kev-Kev, that I don’t even know where to begin with my wonder. 

Your heart is amazing. You’re kind and you’re thoughtful. You share like no one else I know. You wait your turn. You’re grateful. You take scraps and make them better. You are clever. There is not one conversation we have that you’re not leaving me either thinking differently or laughing. You make us better as people and more fun as a family. 

Your quick temper reminds us all that you’re one of us, after all! As much peace as you’re capable of, your tantrums are punchy but quick ... They die as fast as they’ve come. You’re a typical baby who just wants to be heard. 

You have more wisdom than it should be legal for being 10. You’re a kids’ kid and an adult thinker all in one small body! Books and the written word are your greatest love (maybe only second to cats?!) and God, am I grateful for that! You read and know beyond your years. 

The creatures! Oh, they are your passion. You love them with every pore in your body, it seems. 

My favorite memory of you is this: a couple of years ago, we walked down the street to grab some brunch at your favorite place. After eating, you got a candy (of course!)  from the hostess’s desk and because you never stop talking, it fell out of your mouth as we were walking down the street. I thought you’d pick it up and eat it, but of course you didn’t. You looked at it with your head cocked to one side and said “Oh, I will leave it there for the ants.” You’re our little communicator with the animal kingdom, our little messenger, our cat and dog and bunny and owl and ladybug and all the creatures’ whisperer. 

You hear a vibration of the world that we don’t. It’s a world of wonder and magic and love. We trust in you that it does exist. Thank you for sharing that world with us, sweet Kev. May the wonder and the growth never stop. 

I’m not the best aunt in the whole wild world, like you say, but you are our best little (in stature, not in mind) wild man in the whole world! We love you today on your birthday and forevermore ... 

23 American Years

23 years ago today I came to America. Every year, this day is very special to me. More than any other year, today is also special because 23 years marks my mid-life. Today, I lived in my mother country, Romania, just as many years as I have lived in America – 23. Trying to figure out whether I am Romanian or American is another story for another day.

Today is also the day before one of the most historic presidential inaugurations in American history. I feel like I have come full circle and not in a good way. I ran away from a murky political system, full of self-interest and hatred, chaotic and lost. I ran away towards decency  and freedom. I was happy. My heart full of hope.

I knew America would give me everything I ever wanted since I was a little girl – respect, a decent job that would allow me and my family a decent life. But more than that – it would give me a status in the world that I would be proud of. That would open doors to other countries without asking for visas and other legalities. A status that would make me proud to say I come from America, no matter where I was going.

America did give me a decent job and a decent life. It did open doors for a while and gave me possibilities I had never ever dreamed of. But recently, it broke my heart and shadowed my pride. Nowadays, I question why I ever left my country. But with no regrets, I tread forward and hope that we can figure a way out of this. I am still a believer in American possibilities. Still believe in the good fight. Still believe in the goodness of this people who built the country of all possibilities. All the people who have fought for justice and decency.

I am grateful to all the people that have crossed my path over these 23 miraculous years. People who taught me everything from how to fill a tank of gas to how to balance a check book. How to eat shrimp and how to roast a turkey. People who have loved me and shared their lives with me. I am also grateful for the hard lessons, and the losses, too. They only made me stronger and make me believe even more in my resilience and resolve. Made me believe that it’s possible to come out stronger even from the lowest places.  People who did the impossible: taught optimism to a cynical, fatalist Romanian.

America is truly a melting pot. This was one of the things I was looking the most forward to when I crossed over. I am grateful for all the people that I have been fortunate to meet who are different than me and who shared their lives and perspectives with me. I am richer because of all of you.

There are so many things I could say about my journey here I would need to write several volumes to do it all justice. Maybe one day I will. You all who know me know this well. When I look back on my American life, I recall this conversation that could easily apply to the past 23 years of my life: President Clinton was told in an interview that his book, My Life, was a “great book.” And he chuckled and said: “Well, I don’t know if it’s a good book. But I tell you what: it’s a hell of a good story.”

Be well, America. Get healthy. And above all: thank you.

Life’s (Still) a Trip – 2020 Edition

Not sure if this was the hardest year, weirdest year, meanest year so far in our lives, but one thing is for sure: it was the most unexpected. Nothing, not one hour of any day, was to be planned. “Let it go” and “let it roll off your back” were the mantra of every day.

The secret to have survived it, I think, was to really treat every day with the curiosity of learning something new, for new it was. We took the good (the fact that we had each other, jobs, health and technology, mostly) and learned to make plans for 24 hours at most. As everyone else, we had no frame of reference, no guidebook on how to live this new life. We made it up as we went and settled into our routine. We never dwelt too long on things that were missing. We only welcomed each day with the curiosity of “what should we do now?” rather than “I wonder what’s next?”  

We miss a lot of things, but most of all, we miss the freedom of travel. We didn’t dare venture farther than taking a couple-of-hour road trips, but even those short trips were rewarding and rich. Despite it all, or maybe because of it all, we made memories we otherwise would not have made. When would we have ever planned to visit Washington, NC? Or Rose Hill?! Or Wilson, NC? I still strongly believe that everything is for a reason …

This is a look back at our 2020 (click the picture below to view it).

Happy 2021, everyone! I hope the new year will hold you strong, safe, and healthy, more than ready to face whatever it shall throw your way … We wish you all this, but more so those who have lost so much in 2020. Our hearts and hopes are with you, especially.

The Gratitude List for 2020

“If, then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered to be the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: in the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.” ― Leo Tolstoy, Essays, Letters and Miscellanies

Everyone I know will tell you that they are so sick of 2020. So ready to turn it off, mash that button that turned it on and make it all disappear. But was this year really that different than all the others before it?! In some ways, sure, but in more fundamental ways, wasn’t life this way always?!

This year, like any other year, the world went through much of the same turmoil it has gone through since it’s inception: people got sick with and suffered with at least one new or unknown disease. Just like any other year, some homes have an empty seat at the table because someone died sick, shot, strangled, in war, or in an accident. This year, just like any other year, women were raped and children were abused. Someone of color, someone who was gay or of a different religion than the mainstream one was hurt, abused, marginalized, or even killed. Just like any other year, the voice of injustice spoke once again against the weak and the helpless.

Just like any other year, leaders of the world rose, and leaders of the world collapsed. Supporters cried, and others cheered.

Just like any other year, the world has known happiness and joys, too, in the birth of children, puppies, kittens, and cubs. Kids started schools and the older ones finished them and plunged into life. People married and got divorced. They retired and bought homes. Older people downsized and younger people bought or built their first homes, full of dreams. Someone somewhere was starving, just like any other year, and someone, too, managed to survive hunger, cold, injustice, and more … Wars started and they also ended, leaving people and landscapes scarred, never the same, but perhaps freer.

Through overheating, more hurricanes than every before, war, ignorance and heartbreak, the planet is still here. Our blue bead is still floating into the big abyss. Every sunrise and sunset are just as awesome as always …

But just because something gets more press it doesn’t make it more important. Or worse. Or better.

What was different this year, however, was that, as rarely happens in the life of even many generations, we were given enough time to think about these things. For the first time in a really long time, we know we cannot continue to move along as if nothing happened here. I hope we do something about this new realization.

We have been given this precious gift this year, to internalize every single thing that happens to each of us, ourselves, our families, our neighbors, or even strangers, and to distinguish these things from one another (good from bad, just from unjust, fair from unfair), to think before we speak and move on with what we believe to be our truth. We were given the time to understand, perhaps, better than any time before, that what has happened for many years, hundreds of years at time, can no longer continue to happen. We were given the strength to know that it starts with every one of us to change the world and make more of those happy times happen rather than the evil ones happen … I hope. We were, for the first time in many generations, perhaps, given a clear-as-crystal vision to understand that it starts and ends with us. We alone are the ones to carry the blame as well as the victory flag. Every. One. Of. Us.

In this eye-opening year, when I mourned deaths, and cried alongside with people who still suffer every day, I found myself feeling an enormous amount of gratitude for what I have been so undeservedly blessed to have in my life. I wanted to stop for a minute and acknowledge all that I do have and thank all of the people who made my life possible and so rich. This year, more than any other before, I am humbled by the amount of bounty that I have been given.

This is my gratitude list for 2020.

• My husband. His mere presence.
• Our jobs
• Our house
• Our health
• Every moment together with the ones I love on the right side of the dirt is a gift
• Health insurance
• Our physical independence that allows us to stay mobile. 
• My mom’s relative stabilization of her lung cancer. Her strength and resilience.
• My dad’s ability to walk and drive
• My aunt’s strength, physical and mental, and her ability and willingness to help my parents
• My mother in law’s amazing strength and fierce independence to take care of herself every day as a double amputee approaching 80. She is unstoppable! 
• Our extended family’s health
• Our family’s physical safety
• My sister and everything she stands for that I am not: kind, patient, giving to a fault, loyal, the best mother, and so much more ...
• Our freedom
• Our memories
• The peace that we have been blessed with right before we fall asleep in our woodsy neighborhood
• Our ability to read and get virtually any book we want so we can stay aware
• Our food, every day. Every meal.
• Soap
• Toilet paper
• Masks to protect us from others’ germs and the ability to wear them without much effort
• Our car
• Road trips
• The beautiful state we live in that gets us out of house and fills our eyes and hearts with the beauty of its land
• Vegan ice cream
• Eastern European food stores that bring home to me when travelling there is not possible
• Science advancements
• Medicine
• Vaccines 
• Good doctors from my past that were one step ahead of diseases completely destroying me
• My cardiac surgeon, Dr. Mitchell.
• Another year surgery-free
• Nurses, orderlies, medical facility cleaning staff
• Skype, Zoom, Facetime
• My favorite yoga teacher who can now teach me remotely from Greensboro, NC
• Friends who still email out of the blue to check in. You know who you are. 
• Foot rubs at the end of the day
• Electricity
• The internet
• Safe water and air
• Fiery sunsets
• Long and flat forest hikes
• Orchids
• The smell of fresh dough
• Making a brand new recipe successfully
• Parchment paper
• Rainbows. They give you such hope!
• Getting 100% reimbursed for a trip we were not allowed to take anymore with no consequences or penalties
• Air-dropping on i-devices
• The order of the universe. We had several retrograde planets, a huge planet conjunction, asteroids coming at us, but we’re still here, floating around our star. 
• Streaming 
• 72F in November
• That we’re not fearing bombs being dropped over our heads every minute
• That we can hold a decent job and have most of what we need: clothes, food, entertainment, extra cash.
• Tireless lab techs that return lab results before the end of the day
• My Romanian teacher who still believes in my writing and publishes it in our local literary magazine
• All the lessons all my elders have taught me
• The memories my kitties left me with. They carried me through this year of being pet-less.
• The sassy, smart, cheeky jokes of my nephews. They remind me that there is beauty and hope under the ugly rugs of the day, as long as there is laughter. 
• Home-use machines for testing blood pressure, oxygen levels, or levels of INR (blood coagulation metrics)
• Touchless credit card technology
• Hand sanitizer
• Front-line workers in any crisis
• My prayer list got longer this year - I am grateful to have so many people to care about and wish well.
• The FH Foundation and its relentless leaders and contribution to making our lives better
• Outdoor cats that heal my longing for one, even for a brief minute - their beauty and grace.
• All the funny people in my life - my dad, husband, my nephews, especially. 
• I learned that I CAN actually function without plans or when the whole world blows up my plans  and the sun still rises in the East the next day. 
• My husband’s vegan shortbread cookies
• Woodpeckers
• Unpleasant business had a way of turning itself off this year, with little to no effort on my part. Being true to myself and having some patience paid off. 
• Those who speak for justice and equality. Their courage makes life better for all of us. 
• Those who share their stories so we can learn from real life.
• Right turns. Life is complicated enough without having to turn left and risk getting hit.
• Those people who wear a mask with a smile. You can see that in their eyes. They show kindness to others rather than discontent for their inconvenience. 

I hope and wish for all of these blessings and for many, many more for all of you into the new year, and always … 

The Tree

I told myself a long time ago that I would always decorate a tree for Christmas. As long as I am able and on my two feet, I will always pull out the boxes from the attic and hang the ornaments on that tree. So far, I have kept my promise. I have a whole routine, just like we did when we were little and my sister and I decorated our family's tree. Then, we had Christmas cartoons playing on the VCR. Nowadays, I switch to Pandora Christmas stations on my iPad and listen to "happy" Christmas music (none of that sad, somber classical stuff which is good, but not for tree trimming!). 

I do believe that decorating marks the actual end of the year for me - trimming the house, cleaning it, emptying out the closets of clothes I haven't worn, and ... the Christmas tree, the celebration that we made it through another trip around The Sun. It's a milestone, visible, tangible. 

Over the years, my tree has gotten a lot of personality, I think. First off, since around 2004 or so, I decided that ornaments of my tree should only be either purple or white. The lights - only white. No other color is allowed and there are very few exceptions but they must be extremely well argumented. I used to be an "all-color ornaments" type of person. But around 2004 or so, a friend from work gave me a purple ornament because she knew that was my favorite color. That started it all. I thought, "wouldn't it be nice to only have purple ornaments in my tree?!" 

Experience has taught me that purple ornaments are rare, and the tree might look too dark in "only" purple, so white and silver came to the rescue. Nowadays, I have lots of ornaments that we picked out on our many travels (remember those?!), as well as many that my friends have gifted me. They are more or less eclectic, but there are themes, too, like Nativity, or hearts, for example. 

When I trim my tree every year, it not only gives me a chance to reflect over another finished year, but by unboxing all the ornaments, it gives me a chance to remember all those who gave them to me. Our common experiences and bonds. Our friendships, or even estrangement. I remember all the places that I went to to get them and bring them home. This year, more than ever, I felt like we needed more connection (for obvious reasons), and the ornaments helped me remember that we're not alone in the world. That people that love us are out there, behind masks, waiting patiently, and one day, if we hope right ... we might find them again and make new stories. 

Here are some of the favorite highlights from our tree. 

The purple tea kettle that started it all - cca 2004

My husband is German. My mother-in-law taught us a German tradition that says you have to hide a pickle in the Christmas tree for good luck. She gave this to us for our first Christmas as a married couple (2010). This is one of the "non-purple-or-white" exceptions.

Ours friends went to Jerusalem a few years back and brought us this olive wood-carved Nativity Scene. It is one of my favorite ornaments, still. 

Just like the one above, these are an exception to the color - they are all made of wood. My husband made both of these. Although the "spinner" is truly gorgeous and so classy, I really like the whimsical snowman because the hat makes him so sassy.

AtTask 2013 - this is the company I have worked for now for close to 10 years, which has been renamed twice since this ornament was gifted to us at a Christmas party and since I started there. It's probably a collectible right about now. 

There are a lot of hearts in my tree. Those who know me understand why. My husband gave me this enormous purple one the year I had my open-heart surgery (2016). It's mouth-blown glass and so heavy. I love so much its symbolism. 

My husband and I give each other an ornament every year, much like we give each other a card. I have said the words written on this heart to him for years. And one year (I believe 2017), I walked into a store in our new city in NC and there it was. I got it because it pretty much tells our story, the way I see it. 

One of my long, long, long-time friends gave me this camera ornament. It's mostly black (another exception), but it has a fair amount of silver, so it's allowed. It's also allowed because we're both shutter bugs. 

Two of my absolute favorites: home-made ornaments by my sister, with my nephews, back when they loved each other and would sit still (mostly) for a cute picture. They are frozen in time and will always and forever be this cute and happy and perfect to me. (2012 and 2011)

One of my dear friends gave me these two ornaments  during a completely different time in my life. So different that it seems now like it was in another life. They are both hand-painted - the first one is glass and the second one is a real egg painted with the Nativity Scene. I love how fragile and unique they are. Another thing I love about my tree is how it holds the history of almost my entire life and reminds me of my journey.  

This is part of our "travel" collection: Mexico, Hawaii, Outer Banks, NC, Biltmore Estate (Asheville, NC), San Francisco, CA, Key West, FL

We bought this on our last cruise (2019) in The Bahamas. While we were on that cruise, our sweet cat, Gypsy died at home. We were not ourselves the entire trip. I could not have thought of anything more fitting to get for my tree than an angel that will forever remind me of him. Out of all our travel ornaments, this one is the most meaningful.

This is a wire ball filled with pine potpourri. My aunt gave it to me in 2008! and it still smells like pine. I have never changed its content. We bought it while she was visiting the US for her first (and only) time. 

One of my dearest friends gave me these two hearts. They are sweet reminders of her and what a kind person and steadfast friend she is. 

These are my babies. I might have other kitties at some point in my life, but they will always, no matter how small my tree will get, be in my tree. Always part of my life in some way ... Miss them all dearly, especially as I decorate, because there are no tails popping out of empty ornament boxes anymore.  

I lived in NC before but never knew you are supposed to have a cardinal in your Christmas tree for good luck. I just found that out last year. It is my favorite wild bird, so as soon as I learned this I indulged in yet another exception to the color. 

I hope that whatever your physical or metaphorical tree holds this year it reminds you of happy times and foretells of many possibilities to come. 

I wish everyone much health, first, and much hope. 

Happy Holidays, everyone! 

“COVID-19: How it worked for us” - a guest blog

Becky is my team mate. She lives in Utah. She and her daughter and husband were diagnosed with COVID19 around Labor Day (September 7, 2020). This is her story, in her own words, and what she wants the world to know about having had COVID19. 

September 8, 2020: Becky’s announcement in a chat message to our team that her family has been diagnosed with COVID19 (a day after diagnosis)

All three <members of our family> that live here have coronavirus. (My son escaped to college in time.) We're still trying to figure out what exactly that means, like, logistically. But it's a fair bet that I'll be in and out in a pretty random/sporadic schedule. We're okay, mostly. We don't have any health risk factors, and we DO have health insurance,  but this is going to be a weird week for sure.

September 17: Becky’s note to our team after having been sick for 10 days

<rant> I'm pretty frustrated about this. I made good choices, wore my mask every time I left the house, didn't go anywhere I didn't need to go. It didn't matter, because other people didn't wear masks, and then my daughter brought it home. Now I'm sitting here unable to carry things up and down the stairs or EAT CHOCOLATE because somebody else thought it was no big deal. I would be exponentially more pissed if I or anyone I loved would have actually had a bad case. I 100% support a mask mandate and other nanny state behavior and I wish they would shut up and DO it already. I apologize, and I will not interject politics again.</rant>. 

October 8: She sent me this account privately in a Google doc (a month and a day after diagnosis) 

On this day, I had asked her if I might be too paranoid to still obey all the guidelines and restrictions and to still be very guarded and isolated. She said plainly she will send me her full story (below) and then she added: “In short: you are NOT paranoid!”

People are listed in the order that we caught it. Each person’s story is separate, but in real life we all caught it within a few days of each other, so we overlapped a lot.

One of the weirdest things was that we all had completely different sets of symptoms, although we were all definitely sick. The only thing that happened to all of us was losing smell and taste.

Victoria

Age 17, no known risk factors

Main symptoms: Mostly shortness of breath

Tori was the first to get it. We think she got it from school, because when she went back to school after isolation, someone she sits near in one of her classes had only returned from COVID isolation a few days before. Logically, they would have also had it a few days before her. We wondered if she’d caught it from friends, but all the friends she’d been in contact with had to get tested (because they’d been exposed to her). Only one had it, and he had symptoms a few days after her, so we think he caught it from her instead of the other way around. It’s also possible she got it from work (grocery store), but it doesn’t sound like any of her coworkers had it, and there’s no way to know about customers.

The first day (September 4), she had a fever and felt yucky. Her fever was only 100.something, and it never really got any higher than that. She had some pretty bad muscle pain that day too. She called in to work and they told her she had to get tested before she could work again. So I took her down and got her tested. Results back 24 hours later, positive. She only felt rotten for a couple of days, but she was short of breath for like a week. At one point (I want to say day 4?) she wasn’t feeling so bad, but she was getting short of breath. Her oxygen levels were okay (we had a finger tester) but a doctor friend said he’d probably take her in. I took her to the ER because her regular doctor and insta-care didn’t want us to come in and spread germs. The ER x-rayed her for pneumonia (she didn’t have it) and gave her a prescription for an inhaler. She used it every few hours for a couple of days, then less and less and now I think it’s been more than a week. She did lose taste and smell, but seemed to have it mostly back in a couple of weeks. She says it’s hard to know exactly if it’s all back, because she didn’t pay enough attention before she lost it, and it’s hard to compare and judge. She was 90% better in 2 weeks, and I would say is totally better now (October 8).

NOTE: Of the 6 friends that had to be isolated and tested because they’d been exposed to her, only 2 had gone into self-isolation when she told them they’d been exposed. 4 had to be told to isolate by the health department even though they knew they’d been exposed, and 2 were actively mad at Tori for giving their names to the health department because they’d have to miss work and not get money while they were tested. This is probably why, at least in Utah, cases are going up among young people: because at least some of them are idiots.

NOTE: HOORAY FOR HEALTH INSURANCE AT THE ER

Joshua

Age 45, no known risk factors

Main symptoms: Coughing, headaches

Josh caught it a couple of days after Tori. We think he caught it from her. As soon as she was sick we isolated her, brought food to her room, wiped everything down with Lysol, everything, but it was already too late. He had a cough for a couple of days, but it was so smoky here (in Utah) that we’d just assumed that he was coughing from that. Then when Tori tested positive we thought “uh-oh” and he got tested. He was of course positive, although before we heard back about his test the health department called and said they were going to put us down in the computer as positive anyway since we lived with Tori.

The cough was about the same as a cough from a regular cold. It lasted for about a week. Nyquil helped some. The headache was pretty bad and lasted for, I want to say, 5 days (off and on, but mostly on). The health department said to take Tylenol, but you can’t take much of that. Ibuprofen they said might not hurt, but other articles said it might, so we tried to avoid that. We didn’t have any aspirin. The headache was mostly in the forehead, like a really horrible sinus headache, but his nose was clear. Josh was never short of breath.

Josh was tested on September 7, and went backpacking on September 26, so he was feeling completely better by then. He’d been feeling better for a while, but I think if you go hiking in the mountains and overnight backpacking and you’re just fine, you’re pretty much completely healthy.

Becky

Age 45, no known risk factors*

Main symptoms: Muscle pain, fatigue (sleepy), fatigue (weak), shortness of breath, lack of smell

*My family has a history of autoimmune disorders, but I don’t have one that I know of. Also I should probably mention that my cholesterol tends to be a bit high naturally (despite diet and exercise) but not enough for medication (190s).

This one has more details because it’s the one that I saw from the inside, so to speak.

My first symptom was a scratchy throat. I started feeling it on the day Josh was tested, so I went and got tested even though it was just a little scratchy throat. At that point, we thought Tori had it, and Josh maybe had it, and I didn’t have it, so we were all living in separate parts of the house and not interacting at all. The health department said to assume I had it, and that was nice because then at least we could talk to each other and watch movies together and stuff. Then I got a positive test result even though I wasn’t feeling very bad yet. Then I started to feel rotten. 

I did get the same sinus headache, but only for a couple of days. I was a little bit congested, but not very, even though I apparently snored a lot. I had some bathroom trouble one day. But the main symptoms for me were:

Muscle pain. So much pain. More than I’ve ever had without an actual injury. It was mostly concentrated in my hips and legs, but even my teeth hurt. And it lasted for like five days. Tylenol helped some, but again you can’t take it very often. It just made the pain a little less painful for a couple of hours. Tori said she was in a lot of pain too, that first day, and that her friend also commented on how much pain he was in. It surprised me because for how much pain it was, you’d think it would be in the news more.

Fatigue (sleepy): It’s hard to know where the fatigue was coming from because there was a lot going on. I was sick, which makes you tired, but also I wasn’t sleeping well. The pain kept me awake, and also I was extremely stressed out because we all had COVID. That was the first week. The second week I slept like 12 hours a day. The third week I had trouble sleeping again, but I think that was just stress and bad luck. This week my sleep schedule’s out of whack so I don’t know if I’m still having fatigue or not.

Shortness of breath: This one’s weird, because it didn’t show up until I was mostly feeling better. I was sick for two weeks, then improving for one week, and then the shortness of breath kicked in and I’m way worse than I was a couple of weeks ago. I went to the library yesterday and by the time I got back to the car I was breathing like I’d been running. I breathe hard after gathering up laundry. I breathe hard when playing Guitar Hero. It’s ridiculous.

Fatigue (weak): I suspect this is a side effect from the shortness of breath. I was okay right after I started feeling better but now I’m so weak. I can’t get through a grocery trip without crying when I get back to the car. I can’t go for a walk because it’s hard to get back up the hill to home. If I overdo things, it feels like really low blood sugar or something where you can feel your muscles desperately searching for energy and there just isn’t any. It’s super frustrating for a few reasons. It’s frustrating to have to depend on people to do stuff I feel like I should be able to do myself (shopping, chores). It’s frustrating to be stuck at home because it’s so boring here. When video games are too tiring, all that’s left is movies and needlework. I’m running out of movies, and needlework has its own way of driving you slowly crazy. That’s probably not useful info to you but ARRRRGH I’M SO FRUSTRATED.

Losing smell and taste: You can function just fine without smell and taste, but it’s very weird and surprisingly depressing. Whether we want to admit it or not, comfort food cheers people up, and when you’re already stuck at home feeling rotten, losing taste feels like kicking you when you’re down. Also there was this weird not-quite-smell-not-quite-feeling that was there for the first week or so that was weird and unpleasant. And I was like, well, none of us can smell so hopefully we don’t get a gas leak or anything this week! That lasted longer than any other symptom for any of us, and it came back in bits and pieces, so I could smell flowers, but not cooking meat, and cloves smelled weird because I think I was only detecting some of the chemicals or something. Weird and unpleasant.

I don’t know why I’m having trouble so long after the rest of the family is better. Bad luck I suppose. I have a checkup on the 25th (of September) so if it’s still going on then I’ll find out more. 

Michael

Age 19

Michael left for college on August 19, and didn’t ever show symptoms, so that was a huge relief that he just missed it completely.

October 9: Becky’s note to me (a month and 2 days after diagnosis):

Update on coronavirus in case it's useful to know: I did have to go to the insta-care clinic this morning because my breathing took a turn for the worse. They x-rayed me (I'm fine) and gave me an inhaler and also some pretty heavy doses of prednisone (steroid) for the next five days. I do feel a little better this afternoon, so here's hoping it helps. 

October 23: another update from Becky (a month and 2 weeks after diagnosis)

I went into the ER Friday because I was having trouble breathing and my chest hurt. I probably didn’t need to go to the ER, but I was freaking out. They took another x-ray and an EKG and tested me for blood clots (my mom died from blood clots). That was all fine. The doctor told me I have “Reactive Airway Disease” which is apparently what they call asthma when you haven’t been specifically tested for asthma. They put me on some pills (generic Singulair) and some powder that I have to breathe in (Advair) which are both asthma medications. The good news is that they seem to be working! The doctor said that I’d probably be on them for several months.  I still get winded and tired easily, but I don’t have to lie down nearly as much, and when I’m not active I feel totally fine, which is new and exciting for me.

I asked her if she had ever been diagnosed with asthma before or any other lung disease. She answered: No, I don't think so. I can't remember having anything like this before. I get hay fever sometimes, but I don't think that involves your lungs. I do have a cousin with asthma, but no one in my immediate family has it. I'm just glad the doctor figured out what was going on and how to treat it. I'm not thrilled about possibly having asthma, but it's way better than having breathing problems that I don't know what's happening or what to do, if that makes sense.

December 2, 2020: I asked Becky for an update on this day. This is her note ( 5 days shy of 3 months after diagnosis)

Becky’s been wonderful: she is one of the hardest-working people I know. Incredibly smart, too, and even more, incredibly humble. On the virtual calls we have, though, she always looks very tired. So, I checked in with her and asked her today how she feels and whether the doctors have any idea when her life will be back to normal. This was her answer: 

My doctor said 3-6 months. 3 months is next week so I'm pretty sure I'm not going to make that goal.  If I'm not noticeably better in February I'm supposed to go back and she'll start sending me to specialists. It wouldn't do me any good to go to specialists yet because I might still get better by myself. Personally, I don't know if I will. I haven't made any improvement in a while, so right now it's less "rest so I can get better" and more "rest because this is what life is like now." 

Honestly it's kind of rough, emotionally. I am trying very very hard to be patient and optimistic, but some days that's kind of hard to do. I don't mean to complain. I really don't. I know that other people have it much worse. No one I know has died from COVID, and my sister has MS and has been dealing with this sort of thing for years. But I don't love it, and I wish people would understand that this is just not worth the risk. I do have LOTS of support, so that's good. I have no idea how I would cope if I was alone.  

... it's been nearly 3 months, I'm still on Advair and Singulair, and I'm still only able to walk around the block, and not even every day. If I do more than that it's a bad time.  

I thank Becky tremendously for letting me share this with you all and I respect her courage for fighting this, as well as her selflessness for sharing herself so kindly, honestly, and thoughtfully with the world. She is my hero! 

Much health to you, Becky, and thank you, again, for the gift you have given us of your story. 

You’ll live! I promise you.

The year was 1998. That’s when I moved to the United States. Due to some visa restrictions that are irrelevant here, I was not allowed to leave the country until my Green Card was issued. I had no idea how long that’d be. I applied for it the same year, but the INS doesn’t tell you anything about anything. You apply for something, and they will notify you. One day. It can be tomorrow (it never is, really), or in 10 years. You’re at their mercy.

 

I could leave the country, really, but that might have meant I might never be allowed to come back. Newly married and starting my job and my life in the US, I didn’t want to risk not ever coming back. So, I stayed. And for two years (this is how long it was till the INS finally granted my Green Card), I was not allowed to leave the country.

 

I was 23 at the time and 1998 was a tough year for me. For the first time in my life, I was away from the only people I had ever called “family” for all the important occasions: my birthdays, theirs, deaths, and all the holidays. We had no Skype, no Zoom, no Facetime. I had a discount phone plan with MCI (landline; remember them? With the sun on the “i”?!) that cut my cost-per-minute by 10-20% or some such number. I was making minimum wage and could not afford to talk for more than 10-15 minutes once a month or so.  The normal going rate was something like $2.50 for Romania.

 

Those two years were my practice time, where I learned how to survive and have a more-or-less normal life knowing I would maybe never be with my family for many, if not all, of the most important occasions. I admit, as a 23-year-old, that was something to get used to. By 2000 I got into the groove of it. It was what we did. And we lived. The distance and the absence did not kill us.

 

Nowadays, the desperation of people not being with their families for Thanksgiving this year puzzles me. Yes, I know it hurts. I know it’s not what we “normally” do. Like I said: I have been there. But why risk our health and that of those we love for a get-together?! That part, I don’t understand. Sure, there are still millions out there who don’t believe this pandemic is real, but even those millions that believe in it (although it’s science and not Santa Claus, really) are willing to risk it all for 24 hours of eating turkey with an audience. I just don’t get it.

Today, we have so many ways of communicating and practically feel like we’re right there, in each other’s homes, that I would think it would be a no-brainer being safe and not sorry later. Or better safe than sick. I know the remote options for communication work because today I meet with my family weekly for free for about a couple of hours every Sunday. We catch up on the week and gossip about the rest of the family. It’s great.

We still don’t celebrate, for the most part, holidays together. That is “our normal” and that has become our routine. We managed to find and make other traditions over the years around the holidays and we cherish them just as much as the old ones before we decided to live in different countries. We don’t mourn what we don’t have anymore (we have not done that in 20 years now), and we’re grateful for the times when we can travel and see each other. Those times, regardless of when in the year they occur, are holidays within themselves. We’re ever so thankful for technology and each other regardless of how many courses we all eat together from the same kitchen (Thanksgiving does not apply for my own family, but you get the idea). We have survived this distance. We have built other bridges to communicate and find other times to communicate in. And if we could, like so many millions of other immigrant families, I am sure we all can.

 

I wish strength and optimism to those who decide to stay home and make memories in a new (and hopefully not-to-be-repeated-again) way. Better days will come. They must. I wish everyone else who decides to travel and get together this season much care, precaution, and much luck.

 

Regardless of your choice, Happy Thanksgiving to all!