Infection

I step out of the shower and my partner is wearing an N95 mask and gloves. His at-home COVID test shows a strong second line. It's Saturday at 4 PM and he had taken an uncharacteristic midday nap. He woke up aching all over and with a fever. I test negative, but we've spent all day, every day, together. 

Nevertheless, we quarantine. He stays in the guest bedroom and I bring him deliveries. I wear my mask whenever I am not eating. We cancel all of our plans for the weekend and I make a grocery delivery order. I try but can't sleep. I am up until 4 AM. 

The next morning I have a sore throat. I test again, and a faint second line is showing. He has developed a cough. We give it a few more hours, just in case. By midday I test again and it is that same dark line as his original test. He gets full access to the house again, and we both get to stop masking. 

Sunday for me is a sore throat and a slight headache. Not too bad. He is wiped out with fever and chills in waves and continued muscle aches across his body. Even the soles of his feet. A friend drops meds off at our house (incidentally he will test positive later that day. Not sure where from).

My fever begins on Monday. Sore throat lessens slightly as phlegm builds up and sneezing and coughing take over. He feels a little better, but neither of us have much energy. This is the day I can't even manage a dog walk. 

Tuesday feels so slow. I don't have enough energy to give my attention to any pursuit, and the hours tick by. At the same time I can't seem to sleep through the day either. I fade in and out. My highest temperature is 101.3 degrees. 

By Wednesday at lunch I have almost entirely lost my smell. I do not notice until I am preparing lunch. I only have a faint register for scents at this time. But otherwise I am starting to feel marginally better. 

2021

2021 was a year of surprises. It was a year of new beginnings and close calls for my family. 

January was the unexpected fostering of a greyhound who is now a permanent member of our household. 

In February an ice storm knocked out our power for 4 days, forcing us to relocate into a hotel - it was our first overnight away from home since the the pandemic began. Being face to face and down the hall from strangers was terrifying. 

Working a vaccination event in March meant I got my first COVID vaccine - a wild Pfizer appears! Even so, I ran straight to the shower after talking to 200+ people at the event so that I wouldn't bring anything home to my unvaccinated partner. 

Then a second dose in April turned into a brunch with actual human friends in person. 

We were both fully vaccinated in May and immediately went to visit family for the first time since 2019. It was a heady time before terms like variant dominated headlines. I hugged my grandparents. 

In June we jumped at a last minute plan to visit my sister in Virginia, venturing into public in ways that now feel foolhardy. We made fused glass soap dishes, went to a baseball game. 

My partner started a new job right as July began. We saw a movie in a movie theater (rented out by a friend). Kelly got to meet other greyhounds at a playdate and hound wash. We went camping and I got pretty sick, resetting my radar for social gathering back down to a dull discomfort. 

August was quiet, although we still ventured to yoga classes and my partner's parents stayed the night. My sister told me she was pregnant.

Then leading into September, we went back to California, for the week we had planned to get married. No big party, but we still signed the paperwork and celebrated with parents and my grandparents. My oldest friend's entire household caught delta and we waved through the window.  

October and delta almost derailed our plans but we all made it safely to the Oregon coast to spend a week at a rented beach house. It wasn't perfect, but it was family time we hadn't had in almost two years. We hiked, we made a lot of food and played a lot of games. It was hard to say goodbye. 

I begin to lose the thread of when things happened, but November felt like a personal attack. We began really worrying for my sister and baby's health as both remained small. Uncles with heart problems and cancer diagnoses. My cousin almost brought COVID home for Thanksgiving and we stayed home instead of traveling. 

In December my sister was hospitalized and I drove to California so my mom could fly to DC to be with her. Just one day after she showed up, vital signs dropped and an emergency c-section gave us Lina, my niece, weighing in at under 2 lbs and very early. My mother is newly diagnosed with diabetes and has a cpap. Christmas was strange without half of the nuclear family of my childhood. But almost everyone else from my dad's side of the family was there. It was a mixture of so familiar with clouds of uncertainty. My father worked a lot as an emergency dept physician throughout the month and my cousin had an emergency appendectomy. 

 

I'm not sure I have all the months exactly right, and I know a lot more happened. But here is a little bit to remember a year that I do not want to repeat. 

And there's more fire.

 Remember how August was a terrible, no good, very bad month? September is only half over, and it is a strong contender in our seemingly inevitable march towards the apocalypse.

I live in the Clackamas County area of Portland suburbs, and we've had a far-too-interesting last two weeks. Historic dry winds hit the area, which grounded power lines and left many without electricity. For us, we had flickering power with a few major outages starting on September 6th. Debris littered the yard and the smell of smoke came and went. There were some vegetation, commercial, and home fires in our vicinity that caused anxiety but were contained without evacuations.  

Larger fires sparked or accelerated across the state, forming what looked like a vertical string of chaos up the entire west coast. Oregon uses a ready (level 1), set (level 2), go (level 3) fire safety framework, and large swathes of our county immediately jumped into level 3 mandatory evacuation as the Riverside Fire swept towards Estacada and Molalla. The entire county was put on alert at level 1. Many people left their homes and some lost everything.

The sky turned a menacing orange-brown. We packed bags that sat at our front door for 4 nights before the threat level was downgraded. We count ourselves incredibly lucky that we did not have to evacuate, and that we had multiple households reach out and offer us a place to stay if the need arose. 

While fire is still very much present, the weather is now a cooperative force. I do not think we are out of the woods yet - Thursday promises thunder storms and I've found that this year exceeds pessimistic expectations when given the chance. I've not had the capacity to keep up with the other fires farther from home; Riverside, and Beachie Creek are the ones I've prioritized my brain power on, but I know there are smaller ones in our County and a whole host of other situations across the state and into our neighboring ones as well. 

Then there is the "fake news" of polarized groups blaming the fires on one another while very real Oregonians patrol neighborhoods, some armed. The misinformation and blame proliferating in the uncertainty seems like it may accrue a body count of its own if allowed to flourish. I don't want to tackle that, because I don't know how to do so intelligently. I will say that I have seen my community around me rally in amazing ways. The added complication of COVID has not stopped folks from volunteering, donating, and organizing.

The new "slow burn" issue is persistently hazardous air conditions that continue to blanket the area. Visibility is low, particulate matter is high. I wake up with a sore throat and headache and it pretty much stays with me the entire day. In the earlier days I was prone to violent sneezes and a few nosebleeds, which thankfully now seem to be resolved. The dogs (and us humans) only go out to do necessary doggy business, and then it's back in the house. Our AQI has hovered in the 400s to 500 range, with today offering the first promise of low 300s. 

Fire threat has become no longer a surprise. The details and onset may catch me offguard, but the fact of it and its attendant devastation and displacement is unfortunately becoming an annual/seasonal routine. My parents have faced mandatory evacuation two years in a row now. In fact, the Wallbridge Fire that most recently threatened my hometown flared up with this recent weather event as well.

The fire that broke me? Tubbs 2017. The charred remains of my elementary school. My former art teacher sheltering in a backyard pool while everything burned around her. The mobile home park that was obliterated with some of its residents still trapped inside. I knew many people who lost businesses and homes. It was nearly impossible to do or think or manage anything other than the fire and its continued threat, and I was hundreds of miles away and completely powerless. I can conjure feelings about that fire even now, while facing another. 

Many people relocated; one article put it at 500,000+ Oregonians forced to evacuate. I know many who temporarily went to stay with friends or family. Evacuations centers have been lively, although I don't know the details. I know people have taken measures to protect themselves from COVID-19, but I also know that immediate threat outweighs the risk of disease in situations like this. Yesterday's state report included news that the air quality itself was hampering the lab from processing tests. What are the longer term ramifications of these fires? Then there's climate change and its role in all this..

Writ small again.. our dog also ruptured a key ligament in her left rear knee right as this all hit, so we've been trying our best to care for her in this too while we organize her $4000+ surgery.

It's been a real shit sandwich of a year, hasn't it?

 

 

 

Sonia.

My grandmother's sister passed this morning. COVID-19 has taken its first victim in my family.

Between the fires in California, the hurricanes in the gulf, and the ever-present specter of COVID, this month has offered more threat than promise for many members of my family. This is in addition to the issues writ large on our national stage that cannot be ignored.

My parents facing mandatory evacuation from fire. My extended family in the "unsurvivable" pathway of storms. This month felt like it was gunning for us. Throughout these crises we learned of the diagnosis and worsening condition of my great aunt, the positive test from her daughter, and now this. 

I had meant to write up more about the experience of helping my family navigate evacuation in a time of COVID. We've been making fortresses out of our homes, bunkering down against a virus. And suddenly, home was no longer safe. My parents were under mandatory evacuation. There were frustrating and humorous moments - my parents took 16 rabbits to the beach to escape heat and air quality issues closer to home. We all lost a lot of sleep and spent a lot of time poring over alerts and GIS fire maps. We talked a lot. 

But now, I don't know. I am exhausted.

Maybe this is enough for now. 

Curves

It is strange how very tedious a tragedy can be. Politics aside, it seems clear that the US has reopened too quickly, with many leaders course correcting over July. It all feels so avoidable, so predictable, and so goddamned boring.

And people continue to die.

Why can't we get our act together?

I just have to say, you are a special kind of evil if you are using a pandemic to steal sick people's identities. You undermine the legitimate hard work of people trying to contain a virus and also hurt families who are already suffering.

What the actual fuck. 

Weekends are for work

When you have 24 hours to contact someone after they've been identified, you work weekends. When the processes are convoluted and there are multiple mobilizations happening simultaneously, you work evenings. You set meetings before the work day has begun.

All of this is to say that I am trying, but I know I could do better with better resourcing, planning, and a break. I do this to myself, but I may be pushing to far.

Demob, I wait for you with bated breath!