Late yesterday our wee family got a bit of bad news.
CN: discussing non-pandemic illness & crisis responses along with general pandemic & quarantine stuff.
First thing to note is that it’s not us – we’re all fine – but it’s very close to us. Second is that it’s not COVID, but it’s definitely not good.
In OthertimesTM, we’d know what to do. Jon & I both shine in crisis moments. We’d have a plan to do x, y, and z. We’d already be scheduling trips, figuring out the animals, talking with other family, figuring stuff out.
But now? Holy crap. With the new, more aggressive COVID variant in play, we’re not sure what we can do. I’m in a vulnerable population and we could bring it TO her just by traveling. We know some family in other states won’t come like they usually would because of their own vulnerabilities. Plus, I know some other folks have dealt with this, the nightmare of not being able to be with their loved ones when they’re ill, but it’s new enough that there’s no good handbook on how to manage one’s grief in those situations.
I’m sitting here in my home office, blank. Unable to start my writing because my brain wants to gnaw on this problem instead and come up with a solution, when there aren’t any solutions. Unable to do housework because I get dropsy when I’m upset. I’ve already knocked down & spilled too many things in the house today, so all that does is get the house more messy and me more angry. Unable to do social media because I’m not up for navigating a ton of different moods right now.
I can blog but I can’t be specific. I want to scream, but, apartment living.
…I don’t know how to end this post. Maybe just… wear a mask? Stop going places? So I can go hug my MIL without worrying I’m going to make her worse, or infect my FIL, or or?
And yes, I say that, and I know the people who NEED to start wearing masks or stop going places?
They don’t actually care.
And that, my dear friends, is the deep seed of this heartache. That so many people in this world simply… don’t fucking care.