As I sit here eating dark chocolate covered raisins, I look back on the last week of this craziness. My irrational fears show themselves and I want to hunker down in the house and never leave.
And I worry.
My son had open-heart surgery when he was a year old. They needed to relocate his left pulmonary artery. A congenital defect, the left pulmonary artery grew out of the right pulmonary artery and snaked between his trachea and esophagus. Left Pulmonary Artery Sling.
He’s fine now. He’s 5 and strong. He will never need another surgery for this issue. But his left pulmonary artery is smaller than his right. And while he has never had any more problems and runs and plays with ease a little voice, that little voice, in the back of my mind whispers that any lung problems would be made worse by his smaller left pulmonary artery.
This is unfounded. There is nothing to suggest that he is at a greater risk of complications from contracting the coronavirus than anyone else. But he’s my baby, my world. Sure I want to shake some sense into him from time to time, but I don’t. He’s my baby, my little boy.
So I’m to go off to work tomorrow with a near-empty hangar. Even working only 20 hours a week, I worry I will pick up the coronavirus and bring it home for my entire household. And we will be at the mercy of our cats to take care of us. We gonna die.
My chances of contracting corona are low. They’d be lower if some of my coworkers we’re married to nurses.
Then I worry about them.
And my mom who’s over 60. And my sister with asthma and her family stuck in Ohio under a shelter in place order. A group of extroverts stuck in the house. They can’t hermit for a weekend without twitching at the end of it and now they are forced to work from home, teach from home, and not go insane.
I, in turn, have to bribe my kid to go outdoors. He’s fine playing inside, eating sandwiches, and creating all the art projects. Look, kid, we both need some fresh air and exercise. Put Your Clothes On.
We’re safer than most and being smart, yet I don’t want to walk into that hangar tomorrow to calibrate equipment or whatever else that needs done. I want to be home with my baby – who is 5 so not really a baby – and my EE who has the opportunity to work from home.
And if I’m feeling this deep urge to shelter and mama bear my family I can’t imagine the feelings of those people who don’t have the option to work from home, whose risk of exposure is significant.
Bless each and everyone one of you. We don’t deserve you.
