My visual impairment is unnoticeable to others, usually. And then there are times you are trying to box up your own leftovers and it becomes comically evident that something isn’t right. I was out for breakfast with a friend and had ordered a delicious breakfast burrito. I was only able to eat two-thirds of it because it was enormous. So naturally, I asked the server for a box to take my leftovers home. No problem, he said. Then he quickly came back and set a foil box on the table. Gone are the days where they box up your leftovers for you, which I am a-okay with. However, I struggle a bit with doing it myself. I shoveled my leftover burrito into the box and then felt around, searching for the lid. I asked my friend, where’s the lid? With an amused smile, no doubt holding back a hearty chuckle, she said, “It’s inside the foil. You put your burrito on it. May I?” She says this as she’s motioning toward the box to offer to fix it for me. The lid was a transparent plastic that sat inside the foil box, and I had just placed my food on top of it, believing I was setting it directly on the foil. Thankfully the lid was upside down, so all she had to do was flip it over with the burrito into the foil dish and all was well.
After that slight debacle, the server came back and patiently waited the 38 minutes it took me to read the receipt and pay using the handheld computer thing. Because I am now a slow reader. It takes time for me to locate and properly identify letters and numbers, especially on a white screen. I want to be sure I get it right, especially when I’m authorizing someone to remove money from my bank account.
My visual impairment is both a loss of field of vision and an atypical color blindness, so I can’t really decipher things unless they are bright and highly contrasting colors. I read an article earlier this week that the color blindness is actually a common symptom that comes along with optic neuritis, which is what I have. Optic neuritis is very common with M.S., but it usually resolves after a short time period. In my case, it never did. It showed up in September of 2013 and took up permanent residence in my life. An unwelcome guest that I continually work to make peace with. Being so visually impaired really tries my patience most days, but this morning I was able to laugh at myself. It’s exhausting and utterly ridiculous and sometimes laughing at myself is all I can do. It happens a lot, to be honest. So I’m going to try to remember and share more of the stories here when they happen and hopefully, we can laugh together.
I see I haven’t posted in almost a month. I keep saying I’m going to post more frequently and then… well, I guess I get caught up with life and just forget about it! I went for so long obsessing over every little detail, being hypervigilant even when it wasn’t required, and I guess you could say I’ve turned a corner. And what am I seeing around that corner? Peace. Rest. Still waters. God has freed me from the crippling anxiety I’ve suffered from for far too long. It was such a part of my life I can’t even tell you when it started. And as He has been releasing me from the anxiety, the panic, the hypervigilance, I’m having these moments where I can hardly recognize myself. I am changed. And yet, somehow, I am still ME. Praise God, thank you Jesus.
So. What was I here to chat about?
Let’s see, I’m sitting here on a Friday morning listening to the birds, enjoying my first cup of coffee. Black coffee, because I’m now an intermittent faster. I have a couple friends who are IFers, and I was curious so I read a book they recommended called “Fast, Feast, Repeat: The Comprehensive Guide to Delay, Don’t Deny” by Gin Stephens. I was so fascinated by the science behind intermittent fasting, that I decided to try it. Most people do it for the weight loss benefits, but my primary reason was to see if it did anything for my energy levels.
I’m 8 weeks into this lifestyle and I did notice a slight improvement in energy at first, but that has seemed to level back to where it was, so that may have been unrelated. My first noticeable improvement was that I had no more bloating, which has always been a huge problem for me. I would stick with this lifestyle for that reason alone, but I also love that I’m not obsessing about food all the time. What am I going to eat next, when am I going to eat, will there be food where I’m going, do I have snacks packed in case I get hungry – God forbid I get hungry!, etc. etc. All that stopped. And I love it.
Then, the icing on the cake? I’m actually getting smaller. As of my last measurements, I’ve lost almost 6 pounds and several inches all over: 1 from each thigh, 3.5 around the waist, and 2 around my chest. It’s a very slow progress but I think they say the slower it comes off the better because it’s easier to maintain. I was okay with my weight where it was, even though according to the charts I am technically overweight (don’t get me started on those stupid charts). I just know I didn’t feel good. I had gained over 15 pounds after my marathon and no matter how hard I tried, how much I ran, it wasn’t budging back down. These sound like small numbers but I’m a short woman so proportionally they make a big difference in how I feel and how my clothes fit.
Anyway, so that’s one thing that’s been going on over here. What else?
I’ve also been running. Duh. I have been training for a half marathon with my friend, and the race is two weeks away! So we are officially in taper mode, which I’m loving. She’s not even sure if she’s going to be able to run it with me however, because apparently she’s been running on a foot injury. So now that she’s getting the medical professionals involved, they are recommending lots of rest and eventually she may need surgery. So, it’s not looking good, but we are still hopeful. Because we are both overachievers and often live our lives in denial of the physical realities that attempt to hold us back. Which is one of the reasons we are such great friends, I think. When it was determined that her foot pain was something more serious, she started riding her bike along side me while I ran our long runs, and that has seemed to work out pretty well. That’s not an option for the actual race, though, so I may be running it solo. We shall see.
I could go on and on about all the books I’m reading (5 at the moment) and the podcasts that interest me, but I’m afraid I’ve already taken up all of our time today. I hope that wherever you are reading this the sun is shining and the air is fresh. Shalom, y’all.
I titled this as if I do “end of week” updates regularly. Y’all know… I do not. I’m far from regular. But, I just put a cheesecake in the oven and felt like kicking back and writing about some of the exciting things that have been going on with regards to MS and running. I may have mentioned, I’m training for another half marathon. It’s at the end of May, and I’m running it with one of my best friends. It’s been challenging getting our training runs in during the winter but since we are both committed to this race, we are able to hold each other accountable (though, I’ll admit, it’s mostly her keeping me accountable. If I had my way we would be doing far fewer long runs.)
Anyway, during this training I was noticing, and my friend was able to see as well, that my left leg had become increasingly “lazy”. Lots of scuffing of the toe, slapping of the foot as it landed, etc. I think this had started a long time ago, but I hadn’t bothered with it since I wasn’t doing as much running. I talked to my neurologist about it at my last regular check up and she recommended I get some physical therapy to help strengthen those lagging muscles. So I’ve been going to physical therapy for a couple weeks and already I have noticed improvements. The first was that the PT noticed my stride when I run is very short, and she recommended lengthening that stride to get more use of my hamstrings and quads. I tell you, it’s definitely harder to run with that longer stride, but even with that I’m seeing my pace come up. I’ve shaved almost a minute off my short distance pace since beginning our training, without really trying.
Another improvement I’ve seen is that my left leg seems to be getting more involved in the walking process. See, normally I swing my body a little to give that left leg some extra momentum. Since doing these PT exercises, that’s changing. The PT has hooked my leg up a couple times to a stim machine to activate those muscles and I know that’s helping to get them working properly again. I’m having to retrain my brain to talk to those nerves that operate my leg and foot. It’s fascinating and exciting at the same time.
I’m still struggling with fatigue; that hasn’t changed a whole lot. However, I’m learning to change my mindset and be kinder to myself about it. I remind myself that it comes and goes, and that when it comes, I just need to rest, enjoy the slow down period, and ask for help when needed. My teenagers have been real troopers with that, so I’m grateful to have them around.
We’ve had a lot of illness and health issues going around our family for what feels like forever, but with spring comes sunshine and warm weather and I have hope that healthy days are right around the corner. I also hope that for you, dear reader, that you have healthy days and sunshine. May God bless you! Until next time…
I had originally started this post around the new year, and forgot about it. As we are coming up on the anniversary of the events, I thought it would be a good time to finish the story. Also, a disclaimer: the photos included here lack captions because 1) I couldn’t figure out how to add captions and 2) with my vision I’m not even entirely sure what’s in each photo. So I apologize to all the other visually impaired readers out there.
In April of 2021, my husband Mike and I were looking forward to celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary with a weekend trip up north (Up North being a big deal in Michigan). We had planned to leave Friday afternoon, while the kids were still at school, and Grandma was to come and stay the weekend with them.
On this fateful Friday morning, I was frantically awoken by my husband. When I opened my eyes I could sense there was an emergency but could not tell what. I hurried to put on my cochlear implants, and when I did Mike handed me a stack of towels and said “You work up here, I’ll work downstairs.” A few short steps from my bed, and it did not take me long to realize that the floor was soaked. Our bathroom sink had been left running when I got up several hours earlier to use the toilet. I can’t tell you how many times in the past I had gotten up in the middle of the night to go the bathroom and left the water running. Only every other time it had happened, my husband was awake enough to hear it and made sure I got back up to turn the water off. This time that did not happen. The water had been running for several hours, and because it was a slow drain, the water quickly overflowed. The water had spread from our master bathroom, to the carpeted hallway, and through the floor to the main floor ceiling to the kitchen. And then through the kitchen floor to the basement ceiling.
I was devastated. Stunned. In disbelief. In a whirlwind of activity we managed to send the kids off to school and get everything cleaned up the best we could. It was still very early in the morning so while we waited to talk with an insurance agent, I sat on my husband’s lap and sobbed into his shoulder. Not only was our trip cancelled, but I couldn’t believe the mass destruction I had caused to our home. Mike had nothing but compassion for me. He had been angry all of 3 seconds when he discovered the damage, but from every moment thereafter he was in problem solver mode. He kept saying this could be a blessing in disguise. I had always hated the look of our kitchen, and now we would get to pick out our own cabinets, countertops, floors, etc. It could be fun!
I wouldn’t say the process was fun, however it was nice to discover I did have opinions when it came to the kitchen and bathroom designs. And there were a million little decisions we had to make together, so it gave us some good practice as a married couple. After 22 years of marriage it was nice to find we could work out our differences and make compromises without killing each other.
When the restoration crew came to assess the damage they brought very loud drying machines and put them on all 3 floors of the house. They had to cut holes in the kitchen and basement ceilings to get them dried. They ripped out our soaked kitchen and bathroom cabinets, and with them the countertops they were holding up. They put up plastic sheets as barriers because they had detected mold in the kitchen. It was a mess.
We got to work right away at choosing replacement materials, but there were supply chain issues so it did take longer than we had hoped for. We still had use of our fridge and stove, but no place to prepare food or wash dishes, so we lived on fast food for the next several months.
Oh, did I mention that I had already started training for my first marathon at this point? Yep. Marathon training on a fast food diet? Not ideal. But our family got really good at knowing how to get the best deals at all the fast food restaurants. Biggie Bags at Wendy’s, Five Dollar Boxes at Taco Bell, all the value menus. It was fun! (She said, facetiously.)
Anyway, all was restored by early September, just days before my marathon, and it was beautiful. I was so happy to have my kitchen back, I swore to never talk about hating to cook every again. I am grateful for the privilege of having a kitchen to prepare food in.
We put a motion sensor faucet in our bathroom, so that this would never happen again. It took a little getting used to, but it’s been effective; I’ve never left my bathroom faucet running because I’m not able to. I seem to remember one of our kids asking around this time, “why don’t we put one in the kids bathroom too?” And the reply being that there was no reason to because Mom never uses that bathroom. Well, never say never…
Fast forward to April of 2022, almost a year following the major flood. I was blasting my music through my cochlear implants, drowning out all other sounds, and doing a bunch of power cleaning. I noticed the dryer was quite dusty, so I grabbed a washcloth and ran to the nearest bathroom (the kids bathroom, which is the other full upstairs bathroom) to wet the cloth and wipe down the dryer. I continued my work, flittering around the house. My daughter had come home from school, used the small bathroom just off the kitchen, and when she walked out of the bathroom noticed a problem. She hurried upstairs to let me know, “Mom, the kitchen ceiling is leaking!”
I had NO idea what could be causing that but I zoomed into crisis mode. I handed her a bunch of towels and told her to grab a large bowl from the kitchen cabinets, put it under the leak, and start drying the floor (our practically brand new kitchen floor!). I was frantic, not knowing what to do, so I called my husband. He calmly walked me through turning the water off in the house and then gave suggestions for where to check for the source of the leak. I walked upstairs and opened the door to the kid’s bathroom (why was the door shut anyway?) and walked into a cloud of steam and water dripping off the countertop. It was then that I realized I had left the water running after wetting the cloth to clean the dryer. I could not believe it. I had done it again. Thankfully my daughter had caught it in time and the damage was not as severe, but the damage to my ego was just as devastating the second time around, if not more so. I had come to learn after the first flood that it was actually quite common, for people to leave faucets running and flood their homes. I never learned the statistics for two-time offenders but I was sure it was more rare.
The ironic thing is, we had planned a trip for our 23rd anniversary, since we didn’t get to take it the year before. And when I asked Grandma to come stay with the kids, I told her – jokingly – I wouldn’t flood the house this time. And then, of course, I did. Thankfully it happened a few weeks before the trip so we were still able to go. And boy, did we need that trip. It was just for the weekend, but it gave us time to process and reflect on all that had happened, and to be thankful that we were still crazy in love even after all the difficult things we’ve been through. Maybe even more so because of the difficult things we’ve endured. And when we look at those challenges we’ve had to face over the decades, dealing with a flood or two is no big deal.
Now I’m just praying that I make it through this year without causing another major disaster. And I’m extremely grateful that my family loves me despite my propensity for calamity and can laugh about it all now!
I drafted the following post back in 2017 and I think of the 30 drafts I have stashed over the years, this one still rings true. The good news is that through lots of intensive therapy I have come to find and embrace that self-awareness I was so lacking. I now have a strong sense of what I love and am getting pretty good at embracing it. I praise God every day for the healing He has accomplished in my life.
***** I sometimes notice the people around me, enjoying things, and it often seems foreign to me. How can they know what they love? It must be really great to have that self-awareness, and to embrace it.
I don’t know if I’m making any sense here, but whatever. All that was to say that lately I’ve been trying to make note of the things that make me smile from the inside, deep down in my soul.
1) Parades. I freaking love parades. I can’t not be giddy watching a parade go by. I think it began when I was introduced to Easter Parade by the girls I used to babysit for. Maybe.
2) Caramel corn. I can’t stop eating the stuff. I lament that any time good snacks come into our home they get eaten before I even realize they are here. Not the caramel corn. That’s all mine. I will wrestle you to the ground for it. And if it has nuts? I’m not afraid to send you to the hospital.
3) Paisley. This is not a new realization, of course. I know I love it, and have for decades, and everyone else knows it too. You could even say that for this list, this one was my first love. It makes my heart flutter. Every time.
4) Led Zeppelin. In particular, Over the Hills and Far Away… something about how it eases you in, seduces you for a minute and a half, and then comes in pounding with those drums. It just gets me every time. There are certainly many other songs to love, like Kashmir, Ocean, or D’yer Mak’er, but Over the Hills was I think what sold me on the band in the first place. And it didn’t hurt that I first started listening to them on vinyl.
5) Sunrises. The rising and setting of the sun are visually similar, and both beautiful, but somehow the rising sun is what really calms my spirit and whispers to my soul. When I am privileged to stop and see the sunrise, I am always, always reminded that the fact that I am here another day is an enormous gift. Oh, and coffee. You can really enjoy a good cup of coffee while staring into the sunrise. *****
I still love all those things and have added more since then. Sipping bourbon, writing, singing karaoke, dancing in my kitchen, listening to the mourning doves cooing in my backyard, tending to the lilies in my planters. Lots of simple things bring me joy. Things that have always been around but now I’m finally able to notice them and really enjoy them. I’m three seconds away from breaking into a Barbra Streisand song so I’ll stop here. Have a wonderful night, my friends. This week I challenge you to look for joy in the simple things.
A fascinating part of this story of my plunge into disability is that for almost a full two months I was sleeping close to twenty hours a day. That seems to fascinate the people who hear about it after the fact. For the friends and family who lived it, it was terrifying. And for me, well, I don’t remember much so you could say it was sort of a blur.
I’m told a lot of things happened. There were times I was sleeping in bed or on the couch. Other times I was falling asleep at the dinner table. One time I was actually falling asleep while walking through Office Max with a friend. At least, that’s what I was told. I sort of wish I had that on video.
I know I spent a lot of time in the hospital for monitoring and testing. I remember getting a spinal tap, a CAT scan, and numerous middle of the night blood draws. There was one particular night I woke up to half of my extended family sitting around the room with me. My aunt and uncle from Georgia, my cousin from Grand Haven, and perhaps my grandma and grandpa as well. These were all people who were following the progress updates being posted on Facebook and who sacrificed to be with me, to make sure I knew they were all in my corner. I’m really grateful I was awake enough to remember their visit.
I had to take a visual field test at the neuro-ophthalmologist’s office to gauge what I could actually see. This is a pretty standard test where you sit with one eye covered and stare into a machine. You stare at the light in the center of the screen and click a button whenever you see a blinking light in your periphery. I’ve taken this test numerous times since, but this first time was the worst. If it was a pass or fail test, you could say I failed. I could not stay awake. It didn’t help that the room had to be dark for the duration of the test. It’s maybe a five or ten minute test and they kept having to stop the test to wake me up again. Over and over and over. It’s comical now, but it was pretty scary then. I vaguely remember this first test but I had no idea I had been falling asleep so frequently.
I slept through most of my daughter’s 4th birthday party. I remember bits of pieces of that event but only after I was shown videos and photos showing that I was there. I cried watching the video because I didn’t even feel like I knew who I was looking at. It felt like sort of an out of body experience. It breaks my heart a little to realize how absent I was for so much of my children’s everyday lives during this period. I can never get that back but you better believe I’m doing everything I can now to make up for it. I have asked my daughter over the years if she remembers me before I was deaf and she always says she can’t. She does remember thinking she had caused my hearing loss because she had been making too much noise. She was only four years old. You know?! See, now your heart is breaking too.
I also remember Thanksgiving that year. It was the only year within the past decade I didn’t host. Because of course, I was checked out. This made me sad but I was grateful that my husband’s grandparents were willing to fill in and host at their house. I went with no expectations and I was happy to be with loved ones. But when I sat down at the dinner table, I looked down and could not decipher what was on the plate. See, my visual impairment also includes some atypical color blindness, making it difficult to identify anything with bland, muted, or similar coloring. I looked around the table at all the smiling faces as people chatted in silence over their meals. It was just too much. I was there, but I was still missing it. My favorite holiday. With tears spilling over my face, I ran to the bathroom. I was able to calm myself down but I didn’t want to face the family with this red, splotchy, sad face. I cleaned myself up and returned to the table, apologizing for my abrupt exit. I certainly didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s Thanksgiving. And then my daughter Natalie reached over and hugged me. Because God speaks love and grace through four year olds. Of that I am certain.
So that’s how I spent October and most of November. In a dazed, trance like state. I was never left alone. I had a friend who came and stayed at the house with me every weekday while she home-schooled her children. She made sure I was fed and that I took my medications. She even helped with housework quite a bit and kept me engaged as much as possible. When I was too afraid to do normal things like showering, she never laughed or pitied me. She somehow understood the state of fear I was in and rather than scoff at me, she gently encouraged me to take everything one small step at a time.
When I was too afraid to cut an apple for fear of slicing my hand, she told me she believed I could do it and looked forward to the day I would have the courage to try again. So when that day came, I didn’t tell her what I was doing. I just slowly sliced that apple, artfully laid the slices out on a plate and walked up to the dining room table with a proud smile on my face. She smiled back with tears in her eyes (I imagine) and gave me a big mama hug. Cutting that apple was the first big step for me on the long and arduous path of healing and rehabilitation. I still had a long way to go, but that small but meaningful victory over slicing an apple gave me the courage and confidence to keep going, one tiny step at a time.
Yesterday was my son’s thirteenth birthday. He is now officially a teenager. How quickly time seems to pass, until you are put in pandemic lockdown and time seemingly stands still, of course.
Normally, we would have thrown a party for this guy. Pizza, ice cream, video games, and a house full of rambunctious, stinky boys. I was a little heartbroken that we couldn’t do that but Luke took it really well. Besides wanting spending money so he could purchase the exact graphics card he’s been wanting for awhile (he’s a bit of a computer geek) he requested Taco Bell for dinner and my homemade cheesecake for dessert. (*Just want to toot my own horn here, but Mom’s cheesecake ranks #1 on his favorite foods list!)
Grandma drove an hour and a half each way to bring Luke a box of donuts for breakfast and visit with us in person. It was raining, so we all huddled in the garage and talked with Grandma from a safe distance away. While it sucked to have to visit that way, it was really nice to see her and I’m so glad she made the trek.
Overall, it was a pretty chill day. As you can see from the photos above, the cheesecake turned out beautifully and was a big hit. Between all the donuts, the tacos, and the cheesecake, Luke was pretty full. That second photo is good evidence that he was in a food-induced coma by the end of the day.
Now I’ll leave you with this, a lame haiku for my son:
Happy birthday Luke Now a teen in quarantine He loves his cheesecake
I hopped on today and saw that I hadn’t posted in nearly a month. Which is crazy, because it’s not like I’ve been on vacation or anything. Cuz, you know, the coronavirus and all. I live in Michigan, and if you’ve heard, we are under an executive order from our Governor to stay at home. I’m not going to go into all that because I’m so tired of all the political talk and the pandemic news and it’s all very emotionally exhausting. Which I suppose is why I haven’t been posting.
That is not to say I haven’t been up to anything. I completed an afghan for a nephew and started another one for a niece. I have 14 nieces and nephews and I’ve completed 6 blankets, so I’m almost halfway done! It’s a great way to pass the time. The pattern I use is very repetitive so I don’t even have to think about it much. I will usually crochet while listening to an audiobook or a podcast or watching tv.
I also have acquired a couple new gadgets. Mom toys, if you will. I bought myself a Ninja Foodi pressure cooker/air fryer thingamajig to celebrate my 21st wedding anniversary last month. I figured it was like a gift for both of us, because I have fun using it, and my husband gets to enjoy the food I make in it. Then for Mother’s Day my husband bought me (us) a robot vacuum. Like a Roomba but an off-brand. I didn’t think I would love it, and it’s such a cliché thing to buy for the mother of your children, but I am having fun with it. There is an APP you can use to operate it, and I’m a big fan of apps, so that kind of sold me on the whole idea. That and I believe our house is starting to smell a little less like dog and bacon grease.
I’ve been reading a lot of books lately. I recently finished Where the Crawdads Sing and I absolutely loved the entire story. It ended in a way that I did not expect, and it was beautiful. I’m not one to re-read books, but that’s one I think I could read over and over and not get tired of.
I also finished the audiobook, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, as read by it’s author, Stephen King. I haven’t read many of King’s books but what I have read I’ve enjoyed, and I love the movies that have been made based on his stories (Stand By Me, The Green Mile, Shawshank Redemption). I’m not generally into sci-fi or paranormal and I definitely don’t enjoy downright scary stuff, but those were all stories I enjoyed. And for all the crazy stuff he writes, Stephen KIng is a surprisingly normal guy. In this book he gave a lot of great advice for aspiring writers, so if that’s you, I highly recommend reading it.
Last night I stayed up super late reading The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes. I had to stay up late in order to finish it before the library loan ended, but also I just had to know how it ended! This was a great book based on a true story and was extremely thought provoking. Worth a read, for sure.
I think that’s all for now, folks. The month of May is crawling along while I hide away in my little turtle shell. Until I poke my head out again, I wish you all well!
I’ve always been a planner, and for the last several years I have established a routine of planning our meals on a weekly basis. I know meal planning is not for everyone, but it just makes things easier and way less stressful for me. With that last grocery trip, we are set for at least two weeks of meals. And since all the events have been cancelled, I now have something to fill out my fridge calendar:
But that’s not all the fun I’ve been having! Thursday I had a video visit with my new cochlear surgeon. We needed to meet so they could “establish care” which I guess just makes things easier when working with the manufacturer of my implants, especially when it’s time to upgrade to the newer model.
This coming week I have my regular Tysabri infusion. For the first time in years, I’m nervous about going to this. My last infusion was just days before everything shut down, but now we are in full blown shelter in place status and I am worried that I might pick up the virus and bring it home to my family. But my husband and I both agree (as does my neurologist) that the risk of another MS relapse is a far greater risk, and so I must get this infusion. The last time I missed a dose, I lost 60% of my vision, permanently. So I’m going, but I am going to be as safe as possible. Rather than riding the Spec-tran, I’ll be dropped off by my husband. I’ll be wearing an N95 mask (he had a few in the garage that his dad reminded him he’d given him awhile ago) and rubber gloves. I told hubby I thought I would look like some kind of freak walking into the infusion center and he said probably not, because everyone else there will be dressed the same. I don’t think the nurses are going to give me any grief over being too careful. So I’m sure it will be fine, but if you wanna mark your calendars to pray for me Wednesday, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.
I’ve really been enjoying our family dinners lately. We’ve always eaten together as a family, nearly every night, but family dinnertime feels different now. Our schedules are clear, so we are far less rushed. Nobody has anywhere they need to be. A couple nights ago we were all sitting around the table and legitimately enjoying each other’s company. We were talking about what we planned to do, where we planned to go after all this is over. My daughter brought up some great memories of a trip I took her and her brother on, to visit downtown Lansing. Together, we reminisced about all the places we visited that day and what fun we had. Then she said we should go again. Sigh. I love that girl. She’s a city girl, just like her momma.
I worry sometimes about my daughter because she’s extremely introverted, and she’s spent almost every waking hour of this quarantine holed up in her room, playing Roblox. But then she comes out and chats up a storm, telling me all about the fun she’s having. The other night we watched Dr. Strange together, at her request, and after the movie was over we discussed our favorite parts of the movie.
So, I feel like I’m bonding with each of my kids, in entirely different ways. It’s been really nice. This quarantine stuff certainly stinks, and it sure wasn’t what any of us would have planned for our lives, but I’m thanking God for the opportunities it’s giving us. Every storm cloud has a silver lining, and I hope that you are finding your silver lining amidst this storm.
Ordering groceries these days is really…. weird. First off, the stores have been running out of a lot of things: toilet paper, flour, all the frozen things. Some of the shortages are due to people just panicking and losing their dang minds – like the toilet paper shortage which I’m sure everyone in this country is aware of. But flour and frozen foods, I think those things are flying off shelves because a lot of people are doing what we are doing, stocking up to minimize their trips to the store. So when I placed the order I warned my husband that we might not get everything that we wanted, but we agreed that “we’ll get what we get and we won’t throw a fit.” Of course, I said I might throw a little bit of a fit, but I would do my best to keep it contained.
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So the weird part though, is that the shoppers are dropping the groceries off on people’s porches or in their garages. And then they leave. It’s the safest thing we can do right now to minimize exposure, but it’s strange, not to have the normal face to face interaction. Especially when they know that you are right inside the house, watching them unload the groceries. The Aldi shopper apologized to me that my groceries might smell like disinfectant because she uses a lot of it. I told her she was our people, and thanked her profusely. Then she sent the above picture to let me know everything had been unloaded and it was safe to come outside and get our stuff.
As you can see from the photo, we also had a Meijer order delivered shortly before. We had to order from two different stores in order to get all the things we needed. My husband, standing there at the back of the truck, wiped every item down with a disinfecting wipe and I brought them in once they were clean. It was a super fun process I do not look forward to repeating in two weeks when we’ve run out of food and supplies again.
Y’all, in a normal, coronavirus-free world, grocery shopping is one of my least favorite things to do. So I am super grateful for all the shoppers working their a$$es off to make sure the rest of us are well fed and safe at the same time. We are in strange times these days. Be patient, be kind. We won’t be here forever.
Deaf and half-blind runner with multiple sclerosis
Little M.S. Runner 