Monday, April 13
The Easter Bunny came. And GG sent a box of chocolates.
I chose not to write yesterday. It was a nice day: Easter, Sarah’s bday, the Backyard Olympics. The weather was beautiful. I went for a 4.5-mile walk. I made enchiladas for dinner. We watched the ESPN H.O.R.S.E. tourney. By the end of the day I didn’t want to think too much about what was happening in the outside world. So right after I picked up the computer to write, I put it down.
Today is Monday, another week of working from home. Zoom meetings, task lists. I did a yoga Zoom class at lunch, and it was fabulous. I’ve been missing lunchtime yoga. I think my body needs it more than ever, and here I am hunched over a less-than-ergonomically-ideal workspace. I felt tight and sore and out of yoga shape, but I did the work and am so grateful for the space and the technology to do so.
And now, the numbers, which I haven’t focused on in nearly two full days:
1.8 million total cases worldwide.
570,000 cases in the U.S.
More than 22,000 U.S. deaths.
The Governor of New York says they are over the worst of it, or at least that the peak seems to be behind them. In my area, I am just beginning to see glimpses of rising numbers. More cases confirmed at the hospital down the road where my kids were born. People we know with possible cases. It feels like our world is getting smaller, even as we already are housebound. As I sat in my yoga practice today and focused on my breathing I realized how much I have been holding my breath lately.
A friend posted to Facebook today that her husband, a doctor, is finding Covid-19 in patients who present with unrelated complaints. How many of us are carriers? Were? What will the final infection rate be? Will we have immunity? How long will it last?
I look at the news, scan the headlines, click on a few links. What am I looking for? When will it be enough? How flat does the curve have to be? For how long?
Mondays hit hard sometimes.
Stay safe, everyone.