Allyson Johnson

Pieces of my Mind

Archive for the month “June, 2020”

23 Jun 2020

Life in a COVID- Hot Spot: Week 15 – Testing

20200620_224609_docOur hot spot is cooling just a little: elective surgeries that were canceled or discouraged are now going forward.  I have an extremely minor surgery rescheduled for this week, but before going forward with it, I must be tested to make sure I am not, within a few days of the surgery, infected with the novel coronavirus.  So I make an appointment to be tested.

The closest testing spot which will guarantee results before the scheduled surgery is about 15 miles up the road. It is a drive-thru procedure.  I let the scheduling nurse know what kind of car I will be in, and whether I will be the driver or the passenger. Husband decides to be the driver.

We show up on time and are waved through the hospital’s parking garage to the test site – a tent staffed by young aides in hospital scrubs, face masks, and polymer shields.  I signal to the aide with my photo ID and medical group member card.  She comes to the passenger window and asks me to show her the cards so that my name shows – she is not supposed to touch the cards with her surgical gloves.  She asks me to confirm my birth date.  I pass inspection.

I lower my window, and my face mask.  Her eyes are smiling, though her mask hides it. “This will be uncomfortable, but quick,” she says.  “Open your mouth and say ‘Aah.'” She inserts a cotton swab on a long stick into the back of my mouth.  Not so bad.  Then she inserts the same or a similar swab into my left nostril. Waaay in. Tickle prickle want to sneeze. Then into my right nostril.  Tickle prickle want to sneeze. “That’s it. You’re done.”  Results in 2-4 days – in time to qualify or disqualify my minor surgery.  If I test positive, a lot more than my minor surgery will be up-ended.  Cross fingers.

20200620_224621_doc

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
18 Jun 2020

Life in a COVID-19 Hot Spot – Week 14: We Are In This Together – or Not

20200613_banner_webI read the disheartening news articles at the end of May about the George Floyd protests gone awry.  I read about  looters standing with crowbars at the ready as peaceful protesters marched down the streets of San Francisco and Oakland .  They were waiting for the right moment to turn and smash a window for plunder.  I read about rubber bullets and tear gas and arson and professional criminals driving up in vans to strip computer shops and appliance stores of their goods.

But amid the turmoil of the end of May and early June, I took heart from the signs and banners spanning the streets and decking the lawns in my town: “We are in this together”, “We are strong – We will get through this together.”  During the COVID-19 lockdown I had used Zoom and Skype to form new bonds with neighbors, exchanging news, congratulations for milestones, produce, and garden info.  We are a community, safe together.

The Wednesday evening after the weekend of protests-turned-violent I heard laughter from across the street.  The family whose children are normally in camp or in nanny care while their parents are at work were outside in their front yard, parents and children playing volleyball with an invisible net. Work-at-home families are playing together.  The hills across the bay stood out sharp and clear, despite the earlier 90 degree heat.  My neighbors weren’t driving; no driving means no smog.  It seemed that even in hard times, divisive times, there is upside.

That Friday I heard helicopters, then saw a couple circling seemingly right over our back porch.  I checked online – there was a protest march going on down our section of El Camino Real, the main street of California, led and followed by police escort.  It was peaceful, no violence. We are standing together.Los Altos Protest

On Saturday, I drove past downtown  and noticed that Main Street was closed. Another peaceful march circled downtown,  protesters carrying placards, all carefully masked.  It was pretty much a white or light-skinned crowd, marching to show solidarity with people whose experiences most of them had probably never shared. The protests seemed like a way to express community, to meet for something positive. My secure little bubble seemed a good place to be.  We are in this together.

The next Monday we entered Phase 3 of lifting restrictions.  Retail stores were allowed to open, allowing only a few customers in at a time. I drove down El Camino again and saw a line of socially distanced people stretching almost a block up the street.    What could it be for?  A trendy boutique?  A liquor store? An auto supply shop?

They were lined up for The Gun Vault.

GunVault

Posted in COVID-19, Events, Memoir | Leave a comment
09 Jun 2020

Life in a COVID-19 Hot Spot – Week 13 : Re-Imagining the House

 

20200609_162804_resized_1webBefore the Lockdown, we lived in six of the rooms in our nine-room house. We slept in the bedroom, and used the adjoining bathroom. We watched TV in the TV room (den, to real estate agents.) We cooked in the kitchen, ate in the dining room, read and had our pre-dinner glasses of wine in the living room.

We have been empty nesters for a while, and our two sons’ bedrooms remained like shrines to their memory, used only when one or the other or both returned with family to celebrate some occasion. The third bedroom formerly doubled as an in-home office and official guest room. Since we have retired, the office function faded. It was nicer for me to work in the corner of the living room where I could exchange an occasional comment with my spouse. The two extra bathrooms were dusted fairly regularly, and before any guest arrived we ran water in the sinks and tubs to make sure the pipes weren’t rusty.

But after twelve weeks of lockdown, we have reclaimed our un-used territory. Rooms that were seldom used have acquired a new purpose, rooms that were used for one purpose are now multi-tasking.

20200609_162633_resized_1webThe TV room is still where we watch TV, but it is also my exercise studio, as my thrice-weekly exercise class has moved to Zoom. And it also serves as a chldren’s library, as I have collected all the children’s books in the house and spread them out on the sofa as resource for my bi-weekly Skype Story Time with my toddler grand-daughter.

The guest bedroom is now my husband’s physical therapy room, where he can practice the exercises designed to stretch the muscles and sooth the nerves of various aching joints. And it serves as an classroom extension, where I can participate in some online classes and meetings without disturbing my housemate’s reading or TV watching.

The living room is still the reading room, and includes a table for my in-home office, but we have added a card table in front of the picture window for whatever jigsaw puzzle is occupying my idle moments.20200321_120038web

My second son’s bedroom has become my sewing center, my mother’s sewing machine lifted out of its cradle for instant availability and both beds strewn with fabric from previous and planned projects.

I’m lucky, I know, to have space to expand into. I wonder, once the world opens up again, whether I will be able to confine my life back down to only six single-purpose room

Posted in COVID-19, Memoir and tagged | Leave a comment
03 Jun 2020

Life in a COVID-19 Hot Spot – Week 12 – Silver Linings

I had an eerie experience today.  I drove south on a major freeway at 4:45.  I was driving to a destination about 15 miles from my house. Normally (at rush hour, going in the commute direction) it would have taken me nearly an hour to go 15 miles.  Today – 15 minutes.

I looked up from the road. Today was an unusually hot day, in the nineties. Normally, in that heat, smog would have blanketed the valley I live in.  I would be fortunate to see the foothills five miles away.  Today, despite the heat, I could see the mountains at least thirty miles away.  The observatory buildings at the top of the highest peak in our area gleamed white. No traffic = no smog.

This evening I heard laughter from across the street.  The family whose children are normally in camp or in nanny care while their parents are at work was outside in their front yard,  parents and children playing volleyball with an invisible net.

In hard times, divisive times, there is upside.

Posted in climate, COVID-19, Memoir and tagged | Leave a comment

Post Navigation