Seclusion: Day 26
My days are blurring. I'm never entirely sure whether it's a Monday or a Friday anymore while being confined to my parents house, nestled in a small village. The only sounds are the fire crackling in the yard and the sporadic yipping of our three Yorkies as I sit and ponder the last 26 days. That's how long I've been home, and I don't think I've adequately processed how drastically my life did a 180 since March 12.
I remember the date specifically because I had the scare of a lifetime, and little did I know it would foreshadow the following day's new's brief. I had been stretched thinner than a sheet of paper extending beyond the realm of just teaching and dabbling in extra curriculars. I was the oboist for my school's production of Beauty and the Beast, and it was proving such a joy to A.) rekindle my love for music, and B.) see my students flourish onstage in ways I never thought only having them in class for 45 minutes maximum.
I bore witness to beautifully in tune voices, an organized student-led crew, intricate sets, fun and energetic dances, and talented musicians. It brought me back five years to when I last participated in my own high school's productions. It may have taken me three quarters of a year, but I settled into my job and discovered a whole new level of joy in education because it always blends beyond a wooden desk and a dry-erase marker. Education exceeds the bounds of those four walls and reaches students in more ways than we educators probably even realize.
Now, more than ever, I second this sentiment because the world changed that day, March 12, in a span of 48 hours. And of course, I fell ill. The day before, I sat through a faculty meeting, and when the topic presented was COVID-19, I was a little shocked. I was aware of wordly affairs only in the context of what my military siblings were sharing from their environments in South Korea and Japan, but for some reason, this felt entirely out of left field. Not even the sanitation buckets delivered to each classroom were enough to tip my brain off that the situation was getting serious. But, we were informed and briefed about what could happen. And then, my little sniffle turned into extreme fatigue and a cough, and I knew I couldn't risk work.
I spent my day in a clinic, just checking to see if they could determine what illness was plaguing my body. At this time, no one really had access to tests, especially not a clinic, but as soon as I said that I had travelled to New York in the last 14 days, immediately I was handed a mask. My body began shaking. Mind you, I was by myself because it was the middle of the work week. My entire family was five hours away, and all I could do was deep breathe and update my loved ones.
Finally, I was taken to an examination room and provided the great news that no one thought I had the virus; I could go home. I took my paperwork, walked to my car, called Mr. Know-it-All, and then ...
Excuse me, miss we need you to come back in to quarantine.
Im sorry, what? I thought I was fine, but I was led back into the building after a woman followed me to my car and took me back into that same examination room, alone for 10 minutes, without explanation. My entire body broke out in hives - the worst case I've ever experienced - and I couldn't stop shaking. I was furiously texting my mom and Mr. Know-it-All to keep them updated, and I could tell I was worrying everyone. Then, the woman reentered and said ...
Are you okay, hon? You've got crazy hives. You're not quarantined; I just had to check with a local hospital about procedures.
A sigh of relief left my shaking frame, as well as a few whispered expletives, but the important thing was that I got to go home. Long story short, I had a really bad sinus infection, and I had to self-quarantine for the last three days of the 14-day period after potential exposure to make sure I didn't develop a fever. One trip to the pharmacy, an emotional break down in my car, a painful phone call to the prinicpal with updates, a masked trip into my classroom to grab materials, and a trip home brings us to the last three weeks.
I have been conducting online instruction remotely for three weeks now, and it has been the ultimate challenge. I never thought my first year teaching would be packed with so many challenges and twists and turns, but at least I'll be prepared for anything thrown my way in the future. I mean, I think a gloabal pandemic is about as bad as it could get, right? In the early stages of this process, I realized just how much work and support educators provide, and I couldn't be prouder to have been called to this profession.
It has been a little nervewracking adjusting and adapting, but it's a system. It's not perfect by any means, but I'm learning how to better remotely teach each day. I feel as if I've learned more about some of my students since quarantine began because teachers have opened the lines of communication even further to assist and guide any way we can.
The monotonous structure of my day has, however, been quite depressing in a sense, but I have definitely found ways to make life more interesting. Daily walks with my parents and dogs provide much entertainment, especally because with Yorkies, it's always an adventure. I've been cooking and baking, as well as deriving inspiration from weekend binge sessions of The British Baking Show with Mr. Know-it-All. I have to accredit a lot of my sanity to him in these times of uncertainty. He's here for me in ways I never thought possible, and I am forever grateful.
I'm reading and writing more, which is something I have not had enough time to do. I finally feel as if parts of myself that I have lost touch of a little this year are slowly creeping back onto the scene; I'm learning how to better manage myself and my profession, and it is an exciting journey. I have also ordered embroidery materials to teach myself another craft, and yes, the seclusion is turning me into more of a grandmother. But, I digress.
Overall, I am happy. I am grateful. I will continue to thrive as best as I can because in seclusion, I've realized just how valuable time is when it comes to life. I think that the memories we make while home, while with our families, while making the best of our situations, are more important than ever. The memories are going to define this time in our personal histories in tandem with the history remembered through endless news briefings, mass hysteria, and unfortunate deaths at the hands of a virus, silently snagging patrons for a gathering no one asked for. I pray everyday for the safety of those risking exsposure to provide the necessities, as well as those in law enforcement, and all others around the world just taking each day as it comes.
My daily dose of caffeine certaintly gets me through the endless sting of maybe Mondays or Fridays. Even though I miss the thrill of parading around the classroom in my heels and sitting at my personified desk and seeing my students and fellow faculty, I'll settle for sweatpants and narwhal slippers today because I hope my future tomorrows contain a balance of both. Until next time ...