Tag: Pandemic Diary

Pandemic Dairy April 10th, 2020: Today, I (Gasp!) Actually Went Outside for a Walk

This morning it was 1°C (about 39°F for you Americans), so I decided to do something I haven’t done for about a month: go outside for a walk.

Since March 16th, when I started working from home for my employer, I have only set foot outside my home at all for four or five absolutely essential trips: a drive to the nearest mailbox to mail a letter, several trips to the nearest garbage dumpster in my apartment complex, etc. Frankly, I have been borderline terrified to leave my apartment at all during the pandemic, even though I know I could go outside, as long as I stay at least 2 metres (6 feet) away from other people.

I have already explained, via this blog, that I have several underlying health conditions at the age of 56: I am significantly overweight, and I have hypertension, type II diabetes, and asthma. All four conditions (which, of course, are interrelated) put me at much higher risk for a severe, possibly even fatal, case of COVID-19 if I should become infected with this novel coronavirus. So I take this very seriously.

Way back in 2005/2006, when I was an avid H5N1 bird flu prepper, I scoured sites like FluTracks.com for the best information I could find on how to cope with an influenza pandemic. I created a pandemic stockpile, which included things like surgical gloves, respirator masks, eye protection, hand sanitizer, garbage bags, disinfectant, non-perishable food, printed guides on how to care for the sick, etc.

Yes, I went completely and utterly overboard. But the peace of mind it gave me, when it would appear that H5N1 was going to turn into a pandemic, was worth every penny I spent on those pandemic preps. (The H5N1 influenze virus was unlike the current SARS-CoV-2 virus in two ways: first, it was much deadlier, with a mortality rate of about 60%; second, it was extremely poor at human-to-human transmission, which is why it pretty much burned itself out and never became a pandemic. Thank God for small mercies. We weren’t so lucky this time around.)

So, today, I pulled out my first mask from my 15-year-old stockpile and put it on, using the following handy instructional video from Singapore General Hospital (and, before you berate me for not donating my masks to a hospital, I remind you that they are all fifteen years old and well past the expiration date, still good enough for me to use, but which would be rejected by a hospital).

Also, my 81-year-old mother is a skilled, lifelong seamstress, and she telephoned this morning to tell me that has made me some cloth masks, which I hope to drive across town and pick up sometime later today (practicing proper social distancing throughout). She will probably leave them outside her home for me in a plastic bag hanging from her outside stair railing, and we will no doubt wave and yell a brief conversation at each other through the closed window. I usually spend Easter dinner with my mother and step-father, but of course, that will not be happening this year.

Anyway, back to the reason I started writing this blogpost in the first place: I. WENT. OUTSIDE. FOR. A. WALK. (Somebody please alert the major news media 😉 )

So I threw on my warm coat and knit hat, and wrapped a scarf around my face over my mask. Here’s what I look like. (Aas you can see, it is still firmly winter in April up here in Winnipeg; there’s patches of snow on the ground in places, and we aren’t going to see leaves on the trees and tulips popping up until the end of May at the earliest):

I’m certainly not going to win any fashion awards, but it did the job. I put on my winter gloves, and went out for a short walk to the nearby shared elementary school-junior high school-high school grounds, located on the other side of the small forest you see behind me.

I paused at the top of a small mound, and looked around me. The wind felt good on what skin I was exposing to it, and I could hear the birds chirping. To my left, a good distance away, a man and his young son were kicking around a soccer ball on the basketball courts. To my right, a lone woman walked around the oval athletic track near the high school, again well away from me. A flock of grumpy Canada geese, newly returned from the south, picked grumpily at the dead grass and squawked at each other. It felt good.

On my walk back, I encountered a woman carrying a grocery bag. I gave her a wide berth, waiting until she got far ahead of me before I followed her path back to my own apartment.

And so, a milestone: I went for a walk. I came back inside, washed my hands thoroughly (while singing Happy Birthday to myself twice in a row), and carefully removed my mask according to the instructions in the video I posted above. Call it a successful test run.

Overall, this has been a rough week for me. I am still struggling at times with anxiety and depression. Some days have been better and others have been worse. I have tried to limit the number of times I run to check my news sources, and I think that that has helped me a bit. I have also been using Apple’s FaceTime pretty much every day with my best friend (who also happens to be my ex-boyfriend, something which is not that unusual in the gay community of a smaller city like Winnipeg):

(*sigh* I need a shave, badly...that’s me in the smaller picture up top…)

This pandemic is going to be a mental health marathon for me. In addition to my biweekly telephone discussions with my psychiatrist, who dispenses my anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication and engages me in talk therapy, this week I have also entered into a brand new arrangement with the friend of a trusted friend. This friend-of-a-friend, who has worked as a certified peer support specialist and as a crisis hotline volunteer, wants to explore developing a virtual mental health support community, possibly even a business, in Second Life. I am to be her guinea pig. 😉

We will be meeting up virtually for counselling sessions, perhaps via text or voice chat in Discord, or perhaps even in Second Life, where we were first introduced by our mutual friend, whose judgement and wisdom I respect a great deal.

I have found over the years that it indeed helps to have counselors that you can turn to as a safe space, a sounding-board, people who are not your friends (because you can easily burn out even the most patient of friends with your struggles and issues over time). A therapeutic relationship, with a clearly-defined patient and counselor role, can make a big difference to a person with mental health issues.

So that’s about it for me today. I plan to use my Easter long weekend to clean my apartment, go shopping and socializing in Second Life, and do a little blogging.

Stay safe and stay healthy!

Pandemic Diary: April 8th, 2020

Well, today is starting off slightly better than yesterday. There’s that. And I still have four big cans of coffee in my pandemic stockpile. There’s that. And I got out of bed this morning. There’s that. And I am sitting in front of this computer and blogging. There’s that. (As you can see, I am expressing gratitude for the little things. This is one of the many tips experts give to help improve your overall mental health during this pandemic.)

I read a news article yesterday that the citizens of Wuhan, the Chinese city where the coronavirus outbreak first started, have finally been freed from their lockdown after ten weeks, and can pretty much carry on with their lives. Has it been only ten weeks? It feels like TEN YEARS have passed since our world has been turned upside down.

As I have written before (and even quoted in New Yorker magazine, no less!) : “To be honest, I kinda suck at this whole reality business.” I have always sought comfort and refuge in virtual worlds when reality bites, which is, of course, one of the reasons I started this blog. But it seems to me that, to add insult to injury, reality is punching back, hard, lately. Reality is not playing “fair” (as if there were any fair-play rules to this).

In case you haven’t noticed, in addition to “news and views on social VR, virtual worlds, and the metaverse” (as the tagline of my blog states), I have started to use this blog as a diary of my daily experiences during this pandemic. I will admit it: I am feeling completely overwhelmed and powerless. Many of you no doubt feel the same.

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

Another thing that I have noticed is that I can get a jumpstart on my day if I start with a blogpost first thing in the morning. It gets my creative juices flowing, I feel a small sense of accomplishment (hey, at least I completed something!), and I find that small boost helps me face the day, as I work from home for my university library system.

I am signed in to my work email all day, and I am also signed in to the virtual reference chat software my library uses to answer any reference questions that pop up from our faculty, staff, and students (who are also working from home). Lately, I feel like one of those bored teenagers hanging out in front of the 7-11 in those pre-pandemic days, hanging out in chat, waiting for reference questions to come in. There was an initial flurry of questions and problems from patron as the physical libraries shut down, but now it is relatively quiet. Perhaps it will pick up in May, when the summer session starts. I hope so.

I have decided to completely avoid the news today (which will be a tall order). I am going to finish my blogpost, refill my coffee mug, and try my damnedest to focus on my work day.

I hope that all of you out there, reading this, are doing well, or at least, are doing okay. This is going to be a mental health marathon, not a sprint.

Pandemic Diary: April 7th, 2020 (AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!)

Today has not gotten off to a good start.

I have type II diabetes, a condition related to my obesity, and recently I switched from a lancet and digital blood sugar monitor to the FreeStyle LibreLink app on my iPhone, which has the advantage that I can check my blood sugar as many times during the day as I want.

The system requires that I apply a blood sugar sensor (with a fairly large needle) into my upper arm, which I then activate and scan using my iPhone. I have to change the sensor every two weeks. When the system works, it works well.

But the sensors are expensive as hell (I still have to look into whether my health insurance covers them and how to apply for it), and out of the last five sensors I have used, only three have worked until the end of the two-week period. The sensors are applied using a fairly strong adhesive, but after one night of restless sleep (a frustratingly common occurrence lately), it detached and I actually bent the needle, making it useless.

Well, this morning, my LibreLink app was giving me abnormally low blood sugar readings, and to boot, the spot where I had attached it was painful. I tested my blood sugar using the old method, and there was a clear mismatch. Between the pain and the misreadings, I tore it off in disgust and threw it into the trash. Another very expensive sensor bites the dust. Looks like I will be pricking my fingers for the next couple of weeks.

To top it off, my brief perusal of this morning’s Google News website brought forth the following distressing articles:

Zubrin says it’s just a matter of time before others are facing the same decision she and her sister had to make. 

“Everyone is really tight with finances right now. They’re being laid off, there’s no money, they’re going to be keeping every dime they possibly can. Even though let’s say six months down, the road everything’s been lifted and everything’s fine, and they want to do shopping, they still have how many months worth to catch up,” she said.

“They’re not going to go shop, shop, shop, so us little small businesses, we’re not going to survive. We’re not.”

It would appear that the coronavirus pandemic is going to spark, at the very least, a major global recession, possibly even another Great Depression. Oh, joy. I may land up working to age 65 after all.

Wade Kidd of Winnipeg

Kidd’s family said he started experiencing flu-like symptoms on March 18. After contacting health officials, Kidd self-isolated in his home.

“He stayed at home until he was feeling so unwell that we knew he needed help. He was admitted to hospital on March 27, where his condition quickly deteriorated,” his family said.

Kidd died on April 2. His family said he was a loving husband, father and grandfather.

“He was going to be 55 in May, and had a love of life,” the family said. “Wade should be remembered for the amazing man he was, not for how he died. He was humble and unassuming in his life and would not know what to do with all this attention. He was a steady ship in a crazy storm, and now he is gone.”

Kidd’s family said he lived a healthy active life, though he did have some underlying health conditions.

Now, I don’t know what underlying health conditions Mr. Kidd had, but he was two years younger than I am, and I most certainly do NOT live “a healthy, active life”. Between my obesity, my hypertension, my asthma, and my type II diabetes, I am a sitting duck if I catch this coronavirus. I might well be stuck in my small apartment for the duration of the pandemic, creeping out wearing a respirator mask, eye protection, and surgical gloves, truly safe only when I can receive a vaccine, which is likely 12 to 18 months away, at best. AT BEST.

So, yes, I am in an absolutely foul mood today. (That’s MISTER Crankypants to you, buster.) You are all hereby forwarned. I will probably step well away from the blogging keyboard today, lest I vent that anger into a blogpost directed at somebody, or some social VR platform or virtual world that really doesn’t deserve it (as evidenced here, here, and especially here).

I’ll return when I am in a better mood.

UPDATE 12:59 p.m.: Well, things are going rapidly downhill.

I have spent the last hour and half on the phone with technical support for the FreeStyle LibreLink system, because when I replaced the old sensor with a second, new one, my iPhone app wouldn’t scan it, and worse, my iPhone app still thinks I have two weeks left on the old sensor. There doesn’t seem to be any way to reset it unless I can actually scan the new sensor, which, after quite the lengthy period of trial and error, the technical support person thinks is probably defective. So they are mailing me two replacement sensors: one to replace the old one, and one to replace the new one. She tells me they should arrive in three to five days to my mailbox.

And I’m still not sure, if I open my last remaining sensor box, whether or not it will work with the FreeStyle LibreLink app (which apparently still thinks that it has 14 days left on the old sensor).

Oh, and another thing: I forgot my password for the whole goddamn system, and the technical support person had to talk me through a password reset via their website, which (thankfully) worked. So, at least I can now uninstall, then reinstall this fucking app from scratch, to make sure that it will work with my last sensor. All my blood sugar data should be stored “in the cloud”, so I should be okay. (Should be.)

What a fucking circus. I feel as if I am beta-testing this goddamn thing.

Oh, and on top of all that, WordPress had a temporary system outage, and it wouldn’t let me edit this blogpost, even when I entered my correct username and password. So I’m like, this, right now:

Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash

The only ray of light in this whole fucking day so far is that my best friend FaceTimed me to ask if I needed anything from the grocery store (since I haven’t gone out shopping since March 16th). He’s already picking up groceries for himself, and some breakfast supplies for his mother, who lives in an assisted-living home, so a few extra items wouldn’t be a big deal for him.

I begged him to pick up a couple of loaves of bread: real, actual, store-bought multigrain bread. I went through my entire supply a week and a half ago, and I haven’t yet been brave enough to attempt to bake my own bread (even though I have all the ingredients on hand). I expect he will be dropping them off on front doorstep later today, as I wave at him through the living room window of my apartment.

I was so grateful I almost cried. I even told him I would name my first-born child after him. (He knows that’s never gonna happen. I know that’s never gonna happen. EVERYBODY WHO KNOWS ME, knows that’s NEVER gonna happen.)

Jesus-fucking-Christ-tapdancing-on-a-cracker, what a day. I need to go lie down now. I honestly don’t think I can handle anything else going wrong today.

Pandemic Diary: April 6th, 2020

Today marks the start of my fourth week in self-isolation in my apartment, hunkered down with three months’ worth of all my prescription medications and at least a couple of months of food and supplies. I have run out of bread but I have started to bake; I have almost run out of milk, but I have three large bags of powdered milk in my pandemic supplies, which I have started to use.

CBC guidance on face masks (source)

Around six o’clock this evening, I decided to venture outside for only the fourth time since I began working from home on March 16th, 2020. My exotic destination was the nearest garbage bin. I tossed in my trashbag, and then wandered slowly back to my apartment, savouring the fresh spring air, listening to the gurgle and drip of melting snow, seeing the squirrels scamper from tree to tree, and hearing a woodpecker work away at a tree in the small forest behind my apartment complex.

My hand hesitated slightly as I reached for the (external) doorknob to my apartment, to come back inside. Then I faced a dilemma: should I wash my hands before removing my jacket? I decide to wash my hands, take off my jacket and scarf, then wash my hands again, just in case. Relentless handwashing has played absolute havoc with my eczema. (I spared an idle thought to those people suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, who must be struggling mightily in these unprecedented days of pandemic. I am beginning to understand their levels of anxiety.)

It is only after I am seated in front of my personal computer again that I see the tweet from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control (above) in my Twitter feed, and I mentally kick myself for not having the foresight to wrap my scarf around my mouth and nose when I went out. After all, it is a “public space”, right? Of course, I equate “public space” with ANYWHERE OUTSIDE. The fact is, the outdoor space was completely deserted of people except for myself. But what about particles hanging in the air?, I think.

I firmly tell myself to GET A GRIP, that I should be more worried about droplets than particles, that I do not live in downtown New York City or Hong Kong or India or some other area chockablock with coughing, sneezing, infecting people.

I can feel my depression becoming slightly worse over time. I know that I am at high risk of a depressive relapse. However, I still force myself to get up every morning at 7:00 a.m., shower, get dressed, brew a large vat of black coffee, and sit down in front of my PC, log into my work email and the virtual reference chat software my library system uses to chat with patrons, and face whatever the day brings.

This morning, I didn’t realize until well after I had gotten out of the shower, dried off, and dressed, that I had somehow forgotten to wash my hair. I shrug—who’s going to see me with greasy hair?—and continue with my morning routine.

Just a few minutes ago, I learned from Dr. Fran on the RyanSchultz.com Discord (now up to 400 members, with more people joining almost every day) that U.K. prime minister Boris Johnson has been admitted to the intensive care unit for COVID-19. Shit.

And I read another article about how the added stress of a global pandemic lockdown has led to worrying increases in reports of domestic abuse around the world.

And I realize that I, stuck alone in my apartment, I can do nothing about either of these things. I resolve, even more firmly, to avoid the news—all news. (Of course, that is impossible, but I am getting better at it these past few days.)

I had thought briefly about registering with the Public Health Agency of Canada/Health Canada as a COVID-19 volunteer, but I realize that, with my underlying health conditions that confine me to my apartment and put me at risk of a severe case of COVID-19 (not to mention my history of chronic clinical depression), that I would be a rather poor fit to the task.

I’m sad, I’m tired, and I wish this day were over.

UPDATE 7:13 p.m.: My friend Carlos sends me a direct message via Discord, right after I posted this blogpost, and we chat for a few minutes. He gives me his cell phone number and tells me to call anytime, and I in turn give him mine. Being an extrovert, I find that even a brief text chat cheers me up. He sends me a hug emoji and we part company. Thanks, Carlos!

So, feel free to drop me a line if you are on one of the many Discord servers that we possibly share. I’m always up for a text chat!