Author: Doris

In a small effort to exert (a false sense of) control over my life, I bought some colored markers to “bullet journal”. hahahaha. I’ve always had a little datebook or notebook to keep track of dates/appointments/todo lists. I’ve had them since high school! It used to be an At-a-Glance calendar, but now it’s generally a Moleskine-type notebook. I don’t really need it to remind me to do anything (I write the same thing almost everyday), but I enjoy crossing the to-do items off the list. I could tell my life was in a spiral because I abandoned the date book for days and days in the middle of the summer. In a more concerted effort, I needed to rein in my phone use, basically took off the home page my 4 most used apps (which included both Instagram and the New York Times) and try to regain my footing. Now that we are sending kids back to school with a new, more contagious variant, I just need to accept that that is what is happening. I’m silently grateful that I don’t have littles in this pandemic. I can’t quite imagine being home with a three year old all last year and then now sending them back to school where they – mostly likely won’t get very sick – but will be little vectors into homes everywhere. I know that kids do need to be in school. I know that they, for the most part, won’t get sick sick. I know that this year, we have a vaccine unlike last year, so if you are vaccinated, you won’t get sick, sick. But, I acknowledge that I’m very bad at assessing risk. I know Rett Syndrome is rare, but you have one Google-research experience that proves to be true and just shatters your life, I’m predisposed to give weight to the one-in-a million things happening. When I got Edda’s diagnosis, we were young and everyone we knew was having healthy babies, it seemed like we were the only ones with bad luck. But now, all these “rare” things are happening all around me (not even covid-related), and it feels like I’m a magnet of bad luck or karma. Anyways, August is always a mess of a month. (Also, those poor, poor nursing staff working in hospitals taking care of unvaccinated patients. Just breaks my heart. I can barely muster enough good energy at my regular nursing job that I don’t work full time so I can rest and recover, sheeze those nurses are tired. Bone tired.)

My parents, usually ones to give cash and not gifts, recently noticed my interest in getting a jade bracelet and wanted to buy one for me. (I had worn a few that my mother had in her closet – fake? not fake” hard to tell). My father, not one to throw around opinions on matters of taste and generally not one of stylish taste himself, actually commented on what color jade bracelet he liked (though insisting all the while that I pick out one I liked). I liked the idea of me falling into my old-Chinese-lady self and scoured the internet for a reputable seller, settling into one who shipped from Singapore. So my parents bought me this one for my birthday. It’s pretty snug, I slipped it on my hand with the aid of a plastic produce bag and I think I can get it off with some effort (and pain). But I think I’m going to wear it for a while. If you believe in it, it is supposed to offer protection to the wearer. It’s a living thing, absorbing and releasing energy as you wear it. And if it breaks, it means it has sacrificed itself for you, that something bad was suppose to happen to you and instead, your bracelet took the pain instead. It’s mostly white, which is the preference of my parents, but there are small streaks of light green on the opposing side.

We celebrated Vince and Sam’s Eagle Scout accomplishment yesterday. When we started to organize this traditional Eagle Court of Honor 3 or 4 weeks ago, we were planning on an indoor ceremony with indoor eating (maybe a Chinese buffet), but we were increasingly concerned with the Delta variant and with the county reinstating the indoor mask mandate effective midnight Friday night, we changed the food to boxed sandwiches and moved the eating to outside – though we still had the ceremony inside.

I did nothing in preparation for this. The troop did a tremendous amount. Jeremy and Kate (Sam’s mom) arranged for the food and desserts. Kate was making a poster and kindly had extra craft supplies and Jeremy quickly printed photos on Friday during the day and pulled together mementos and crafted alongside Kate. Jeremy wrote and delivered the parental speech. Vince wrote his own speech. All four grandparents were in attendance, a wonderful occasion for all.

As Jeremy said in his speech, when I proposed Vince join scouts in 2009 Jeremy was hesitant given the baggage of the Boy Scouts and I understood the baggage, but scouts has really been a cornerstone of our lives here in Rockville. No other extra curricular activity in Vince’s life took hold as much as this one. In 2009, I had no idea it would end up being such an important part of Vince’s life. Vince, as he said in his speech, was never really interested in getting the Eagle Scout rank (merit badge hunting and going through paperwork hoops is not his strong suit), even as he got more and more responsibility running the troop, eventually running the whole thing with much success his senior year. We all understand that Scouts (as a national organization) is anachronistic and might not last much longer, but we are grateful for the experience.

I really am a terrible photographer these days, I have no photos of people. The boxed lunches were perfect, people could grab them as they left the ceremony and there were chairs set out outside for everyone to eat (in the parking lot, lol). It was a lovely summer evening and we all stayed a while and chatted. It was wonderful to see the “kids” sitting on the curbs having fun and eating.

Friday was also Vince’s last day at JCC camp as a counselor, though he is still working another two weeks in their August lower-key day care/camp. It was a lot of work for not much money and although he groaned at times when he headed out in the mornings, he was good at this job and he learned about how a program larger than his scout troop is run. He helped us out tremendously because he drove Edda there and back everyday. Edda returned the favor by allowing Vince to park in the handicapped spot instead of across the street and also by giving Vince extra “fame” because Edda’s been going to camp for ten years now. Vince was awarded the “dugma” award for his efforts, an award which was voted on by his peers: you can see it Here.

Jeremy and his parents made it to Philly. Bob and Katherine moved to an intentional community called Camphill Kimberton. They built a house on the property. It’s a mixed community where people with disabilities live and work alongside folks without disabilities. Families grow up there, young people spend a year or two living there before moving on to other endeavors. We visited in the winter to see the house-in-progress and it was endearing and touching. I would be wonderful if Edda could be part of the community when she grew up, but her disability is too severe. I think you’d need to be able to feed and dress yourself to live in the community.

Pip got to see all of his old favorite chairs come out of storage. Jeremy came home this morning which was nice for me. Both Jeremy and I were busy this week, so it was hard to talk to each other and I tend to get a little too much in my head without his help to balance me out.

I had lunch with Rachel, my nurse friend whose husband passed away almost 2 months ago now. I knew she was going to cook me a delicious, generous Korean lunch, so I strategically ate in anticipation. I had only a banana for breakfast, ran a hard workout in the morning and then ate nothing afterwards. By the time I got to her apartment at noon, I was starving (and somewhat cranky). And I ate everything. She asked: do you eat fish? Yes. do you eat spicy? Yes. The answer was yes, yes, yes. I ate a lot. She was so surprised. She said – oh you eat! you never eat at work! And I say, yes, I eat! I don’t have time to eat at work. And she looked at me and said – you have to make time to eat at work.

I’m watching the Olympics in a strange mix of free-trial YouTubeTV, nbcolympics.com and peacock. We haven’t had cable TV in decades – so loads of TV technology have passed me by. So many things make me feel old these days. Of course, watching young people do impossible things makes me feel old, but I’m constantly frustrated by my inability to watch the Olympics when I want to watch and how I want to watch. This, for some reason, makes me feel older than watching a 13 year old olympian on a skateboard. I no longer truly understand how to watch TV. Sometimes it streams live on nbcolympics.com and not on YouTube TV and sometimes it does it the other way around. Peacock is a paid thing we had for Jeremy to watch the Tour de France, but we kept it going for the olympics, but it just has the women’s gymnastics final (all the girls are home already!) and some weird Olympic show by Snoop Dogg. I can’t find races that were run days and days ago and should now rightfully be free to everyone. This is what I want: I want a grid of the schedule with all the events. So I can see which ones are live now, which ones will happen in the future and I can click on the old ones a few days ago.

While Jeremy’s in New York/Philly helping his parents move, I’m holding down the fort here in DC. This past weekend, I went to a party. I asked Vince to mind Edda for about 3 hours Saturday afternoon, and I went to an engagement party of a child of one of our friends. I guess I shouldn’t say child, I should say son. My friends are just ever so slightly older than me and their children are about 5 years older than my children – but still – a milestone for me (well, of course, a huge milestone for my friends) because omg, I’m so old, my friends’ kids are starting to get getting married. What do you say to a 23ish-year-old person who is getting engaged when you are their-age-years deep in your own marriage? I mean, I love being married and Jeremy and I are well suited and it seems like we’ll be able to manage it until the bitter end, but even though I love being married doesn’t mean there aren’t moments of holy crap, what/who did I tie myself to until I die? When you get engaged at 23 (which was pretty much the age I got engaged) – there is like no idea what it will be like. Did I say – good luck? I think I said congrats! And I gave them some $ which I think, is the best way to start a marriage. With some $ in your pocket. (and omg, I got married in 1998. That dates sound so so so long ago. In the 1900s!)

It was an all-outdoor party. No masking. I stayed the entire three hours even though I wasn’t planning on it and I didn’t know many people and I was by myself. I had a good time. The weather was good, there was shade. I ate three cupcakes. And a glass of champagne. I’m starved for a party apparently, I had many conversations.

Homemade cupcakes!

I spoke with a respiratory therapist the other day who intubated 4 patients a day for months (maybe a year) in the ICU. He said that 90% of the people he vented went on to die. I asked him if he was OK now. He said he was perfectly fine. I said that I took care of only the mild cases for six weeks and I was still “processing” the whole thing. He answered that he was really good at compartmentalizing and that when he vented people, they were already unable to talk to him and so it was not as if they formed a relationship. I said I thought the care was better if you didn’t fully compartmentalize (even with patients who are unable to respond), but then you always lost a bit of yourself in the interaction.

I’m trying, trying to shift my thinking to the pandemic “not ending”. That I can live with the pandemic in the background (or foreground). How I will miss seeing the faces of strangers. How I will miss meeting people. It’s already so hard to meet people! I don’t really miss going to the movies, but I miss the possibility of going to the movies. Are there going to be parties? Like are we having a 40 person Thanksgiving? There is always an early-ish moment at a party where I know only a few people (where I met my goal of small talking to at least 3 people) where I want to leave and then I kind of sneak out, just tapping the host on the shoulder and giving a small wave and hug and easing myself into the cold, dark night. I did not know I would miss that interaction, but I kind of do. I don’t actually enjoy the party (usually, though I’m trying to learn, but man, it’s hard to do without practice), I enjoy having been at the party and leaving.

It is with some interest as I watch Simone Biles handle her withdrawal from the Olympics. I grew up in the Kerri Strug era of gymnastics, where her vault performance on a clearly injured leg was applauded and where, behind the scenes and unknown at the time to the viewing audience, the coaching was terrifying and humiliating and where these young girls were sexually assaulted by people they trusted. I did admire Kerri Strug at the time, as I admire Simone Biles now. Actually what I most admire about Simone is that she is back in the pit, with her teammates cheering and coaching them on and not (seemingly) wallowing in self-pity/flagellation/beratement which, I think, is what I would be doing.

We are struggling some with mid-level mental health issues here in the house. Thank goodness it’s not on a world stage, it’s just on our stage. I have, over the summer, developed an anxiety to various household duties that I’ve always done without much issue (paperwork, insurance, bills) and also some things at the nursing job which fill me with a sense of dread and inadequacy. Therefore, the days become, for me, managing my procrastination and productivity. I know I use working and productivity as a coping mechanism, it does feel good for me to work. But working too much is also a problem because I need to rest. But resting too much is also problematic in its own other way. Vince has my tendencies towards these bouts. We both were talking to each other last night and saying, well, you feel bad while you are doing the task, but somehow you know not doing the task and being in bed makes you feel worse. So there we are, just generally feeling low-level bad a lot of the time.

This is certainly not aided by some uncertainty with the pandemic. I’m not sure what is going to happen in the fall. Are the kids going back to school full time at full capacity in person? I don’t mind masking for everyone. But really, are we going to go shoulder to shoulder again? I’m now approaching my 7 month mark of getting the vaccine, am I still protected? Should I go to CVS and get another shot myself? Really, am I focusing too much on the US vaccination plan because so much of the world is not vaccinated? These are the problems I ruminate on the next six month time-frame, but on the 20 year time frame, I fret about Vince and Edda and all our children. Everyone (even the richest of us all) need nurses, teachers, plumbers, road repair people, car repair people, day care providers, firefighters, grocery workers, people who will cut my hair. None of these people can work full time and live in my neighborhood because the neighborhood has become so expensive, so out of reach. I grew up in this neighborhood. My teachers lived around me in houses just like mine. What have I done? What have we done? Does everyone need to have a side hustle?

There is a mouse house in one of Jeremy’s parents’ car after sitting idle for two years.

They made it to Bard. Emy made a delicious dinner.

And just FYI, according to Spotify I’m a top 1% Taylor Swift fan. Honestly, I don’t think I listen to *that* much Tay Tay. Maybe I should make some effort to see her live. But I don’t really like pouncing for tickets. We’ll see.

Bob and Katherine were here for only 1.5 days. We had a brunch with my parents on Tuesday and the Sunday night Martin family dinner on Tuesday night.

Wed – 3 mile run with Bob! omg. My father-in-law is 81.

Van is packed – bike, cello, dog crate.

Off to Bard to get all the stuff to move to Philly.

And we have Pip in the house. Semi-traumatic re-entry flight for Pip (and maybe also for the humans)… it was not easy. But they are here safely and we are together.

On Saturday, we went to 99 Ranch (the Asian supermarket) in Gaithersburg. We hardly ever go anywhere as a foursome – but this weekend we went grocery shopping as a family. Jeremy laughed and said -some families go hiking or to the beach or to the movies, but we go grocery shopping. I will say that we are often in the house all together, or we are paired in the house together (J+E or D+E) or by ourselves in the outside world. We are rarely together in the outside world and we are rarely paired in the outside world. Interesting.

I was happy to see 99% of the people masking up. We still take our masking pretty seriously here in MoCo even though we have among the highest rates of vaccination in the country. Especially at the Asian market – though there were people eating at tables near the food court indoors. I’m not sure I would do that.

I tried, for the first time yesterday, to add an encouragement to get the vaccine to my discharge spiel when I send my patients home. I said – did you get your vaccine yet? And they said no. And then I said, well, go on and be sure to get it! It’s free! And they they looked at me funny. I left it at that. I’ll get better with it.

Jeremy trying to make his black bike more interesting by adding on orange accessories.