Okay. Let me start off by saying, I don’t really have worries that if I do contract COVID-19 that it will kill me. My immediate family and I are generally physically healthy (mentally is another matter altogether.) Based on my obsessive reading, I’m guessing we would fall into the category of the majority of people who will experience milder symptoms. Here’s hoping.
But no. COVID-19 is going to be death by a million paper cuts for me. Between the disinfecting and being around my family 24/7, I’m gonna die.
It’s going to cause my anxiety and any underlying OCD tendencies I may have to go into overdrive.
“Wash your hands for 20 seconds.”
I’m beginning to feel like Lady MacBeth at this point with all the hand washing. “Out, damned spot! Out, I say!”
Now I’m all in support of good hygiene. But as a mother of three, do you know how many times I ask my kids, “Did you wash your hands?” It’s become an involuntary reflex at this point, so much so that every time their butts hit the kitchen chairs for dinner, “Did you wash your hands?” comes out of my mouth. When I hear them in the bathroom and the door opening immediately after I hear the toilet flush, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I didn’t hear water running. GO WASH YOUR HANDS!” Followed by loud sighs and eye rolls from them. But now that the stakes are exponentially higher for the importance of good hygiene, my stress level just skyrocketed. [Paper cut]
Oh. And the whole 20 second thing and singing “Happy Birthday” while you wash? *Ugh!* Oh, I’ve seen all the other suggested 20 second song refrains you can sing instead of “Happy Birthday” — but you know what goes through my head? “Dance Monkey” by Tones. That song is absolute nails on a chalkboard to me, yet that’s the song my stupid brain cues up every time I squirt soap on my hands. It makes me stabby. [Paper cut]
“Don’t touch your face.”
Uhh, yeah. Good luck with that. (You just touched your face just now, didn’t you. See what I mean?) [Paper cut]
Crap. I just rubbed my nose. [Paper cut]
[Slathers on hand sanitizer. Wipes down keyboard for good measure.]
ARRRG! I just touched my eye! …and the hand sanitizer wasn’t dry! It BURNS! IT BUUUURRNNNS!!! [Paper cut]
[Runs to bathroom to splash water in eyes.] Oh God. Please tell me that was chocolate frosting on the faucet handle left over from one of the inmates after they actually washed their hands! [Paper cut]
[Grabs disinfecting wipe and madly scrubs just in case. Looks over at toilet.] Jeez. I might as well scrub that while I’m at it since I’m sure it’s been completely desecrated by someone in this household today. [Opens lid. Gags.] Why me? [Paper cut paper cut paper cut!]
3+ Weeks of Togetherness
You know what just may terrify me the most? My children being trapped at home for the next three or more weeks. It’s already day one of self isolating and already I want to quarantine myself in my room. Maybe by the end of the week we won’t even be speaking to one another…There’s a thought.
While I am grateful that our schools have eLearning capabilities, the thought of having to ride herd on the boys every day to get them to complete their work makes me want to cry. I’ve said it a million times before, but teachers rule and I bow down to their amazingness, patience and ability to put up with their students day in and day out. I’m trying to keep a positive outlook on their eLearning assignments, like “it’ll give them something to do!” But then reality will set in and well…
In all seriousness, am I worried about COVID-19? Yes. I worry about older family members, especially those with underlying health issues. I worry about family and friends with compromised immune systems due to cancer and other diseases they have valiantly fought. I worry about my friends with cystic fibrosis, who fight every day to breathe. I worry about my family and friends who are healthcare providers, that they will have proper protection while they selflessly help others…and that they can physically and mentally handle what is sure to come. The list goes on and on.
To stave off pure insanity that all these “paper cuts” will inflict, I’m going to turn to writing. And since there is already so much scary and serious stuff out there to read, I will try to write some goofy stuff to distract us all. I’m sure the inmates will provide an infinite amount of material. Pray for me.
In the meantime, be well. Wash your hands. And be good to one another.