I’m a former teacher. I’d planned to write this post about students returning to school, or learning styles, or how to help your kids if they have to do Zoom classes. But then COVID.
I saw a social media post last night. It was a picture of a man with the wind blowing through his hair and the caption, “This is me. Not wearing a mask and paying with cash.” It hit me hard because I had just Facetimed with our middle one lying in his bed, unable to sit up without coughing, finally able to hold a conversation with us if he used short sentences and stopped to catch his breath.
We’d talked about how his two babies, three and one, had low grade fevers the night before and how we hoped it was nothing. The one year old’s cutting teeth, maybe it’s that.
We talked about how my daughter in love had asked him to pull the sheets off his bed because they were soaking wet with sweat and she wanted him to have fresh ones. He said he didn’t think he’d make it through getting them changed, but he didn’t want her to have to gown up and come into his room because the kids were awake and she couldn’t leave them long enough to do that and then take a shower before touching them.
We’re in the waiting stage right now. They are waiting to see if she and the children are going to get it. Kent and I kept the kids a few days ago so we’re waiting to see if we get it. It’s frightening.
But that’s the nature of this virus. It’s notorious for false negative tests and appearing to get better, then coming on with a vengeance. That’s what our youngest, the medical resident in Washington state told us. She also said they’re watching the south like a test case to see what happens because the southern states are not being as cautious with this thing, not taking things like wearing masks and social distancing as seriously.
We had hoped to get our whole family together this fall for a long weekend as is our tradition. But the youngest is in the military and her leave won’t be approved to travel to a state with high COVID cases. It’s looking doubtful. We already had to cancel our plans to fly out to see her in April. Facetime is wonderful but it’s got nothing on a real hug, one of those long ones where your kid starts to squirm and says, “Mom, enough already!” I miss her.
I miss the oldest too. She’s working on high school English lessons that will be taught half Zoom/half in person with her and her students wearing masks and students alternating three day/two day weeks so everyone can get a turn at both. I remember my first days of teaching at Opelika High School. They were both exhilarating and terrifying. I can only imagine what first year teachers will be going through this year.
Watching states like Washington and New York and what they have gone through with this virus, I am thankful that our area hasn’t been hit as hard. I am thankful for the response of East Alabama Medical Center and our local healthcare community for their competency and dedication, their efforts to keep our population informed and equipped to protect ourselves and our neighbors. I’m grateful that the youngest, who got it early on and had to face it alone, has recovered, and that now our son seems to be getting well.
I am also praying that his family and Kent and I don’t become ill. There is so much information out there. It’s always changing as our medical community learns and adapts. As confusing and frustrating as it can be for us, the pressure on those on the front lines must be incredible. They want to get it right because the stakes are so high, with no way of knowing who COVID will hit next.
Right now, our family is supporting our son and his family through this thing. And while we wait, and for the foreseeable future, I’ll do whatever I can to stop the spread of this crazy virus. If someone thinks I’m overdoing it, I can live with that. So, in the meantime:
This is me.
Wearing a mask.
Social distancing.
Washing my hands.
And hopefully protecting you.
Be safe. Be well. Be blessed.
Because…COVID.
