Dancing...in Shit...with Covid...It’s a Thing

"I think I will walk in with you.  Maybe they will let me come in the room with you."  "Ok.  I would like that." That was my conversation with my husband as we were walking in to the Covid Walk In clinic on Monday afternoon.  I had tested positive two weeks earlier.  I was sure they would just send me home and quite frankly I was a bit irritated that I had to go to the work to "walk in" to appease my families worries.

This is what I whispered to my husband next. "I haven't done laundry in two weeks, my underwear today have a huge hole them...this is like a comedy scenario...we both chuckled."  

I cannot remember my husband ever taking me to the doctor before.  It may be awhile before he does again.  I can tell you I was grateful he was the one in there with me. The next 20 minutes are a blur and an ambulance ride to the hospital.  What is distinctly clear in my memory is that as they were undressing me to start an EKG, I looked over and Brian pulled his mask down to whisper...I love you.  I knew he was really saying..."don't worry about the hole in your underwear... I love you..."

I am certain the next several hours were a complete shock to him.  They certainly were to me.  I was going in for an inhaler to help me breathe. Next thing I'm in a ambulance headed to the hospital.  Turns out they keep oxygen there too...much better than an inhaler...who knew?  

Today is Wednesday.  I failed my "oxygen test" this morning.  I was a bit discouraged.  My daughter sent me a picture of her word board.  She had just changed the words today. What she didn't know was that I have been reading Adam Grants book "Think Again" wherein he talks about negotiating life, thoughts, and ideals, by dancing with those around you, learning to connect and find common ground with others.  I also had just finished re-reading my own post from years ago about dancing to life's rythym.   I needed her words...they found me  Good words always do if you seek them out.  Notice them.  Utilize them.

I am also a Peace pursuer who knows the benefit of a good swear word on occasion.  I have received a few of those during my stay as well.  A text from a good friend, "What? You mean this shit is real?! Are you ok?"

I have reflected on my Joy Jar gift words. "A wise girl once said, 'Let that shit go!' And she lived happily ever after."  I got a card from another daughter today with the words she used when she had her son 5 weeks early during Covid and Sepsis following for a total of close to 3 weeks in the hospital during January and February. I'm not sure you can read the photo. "Mom these words helped me. I hope they help you too.  'Put one foot in front of the other and soon you will be walking out the door.' The Kris Kringle movie." These words helped her...they helped me. I also read another old post today. Unwrapping shit 

I think you can begin to see the pattern here...dancing...and shit.  I love good strong words.  They are not always pretty.  Life is not always pretty.  But..it is beautiful.  I love to garden.  I understand the benefits of fertilizer to the soil that helps beauty grow.  It isn't the beautiful thing itself. In fact it often even smells pretty bad.  But given a chance to work its magic good things come.  

 My husband, each of my children and my friends and family have shared such good words with me. Most words do not come with a picture opportunity They just soak in...nourish you.  The isolation has been difficult for me. The Covid staff is amazing.  They work 12 hour shifts and because they know their patients need words they take time to talk. They have been kind and patient and encouraging.  I am grateful for them. Had I waited even one more day to come in my story could be much different I could have been in ICU and ventilated like so many others.  This post would not be a thing today for sure.

I love dancing in life's garden. That means I may on occasion step in it's glorious fertilizer!  This past month has been one of those months.  My husband was so sick with Covid.  I had never seen him so sick.  I was good in comparison.  When he got better I knew I would too.  I was only a day or two behind him. I made him get out the calendar one night and count how many more days I would be sick.  You know...his crystal ball.

Spoiler alert... 

There is no Crystal Ball.  Life is uncertain.

 I have a good friend who has been dancing in life's fertilizer herself these past few months.  We share an imoji of a spouting whale when we need to "vent" a little before going in for the deep dives life frequently requires on tough days.  Breathing Deep.  Another concept to visit and re-visit.  Some how especially Covid suitable this week for me. 

The only thing I would change is my underwear.  (Or would I?) 

Dancing. Shit. Holes. Covid.  

Enough said.