Make It Count

When I was a freshman in college, the movie “Titanic” came out. It was all the rage amongst my friends and me, a group of sappy hopeless romantics who made mixed tapes with both instrumental and vocal versions of “My Heart Will Go On,” wishing for that love story, wondering if we had the strength to move on after trying times. The guy I was crushing on at the time had a clever way of using movie quotes to sound philosophical and intelligent, likely with the dark intent to impress foolish girls like me (yeah, he was a douche bag, and I fell for it). Though I mostly associate that movie and all that comes with it with that dickhead in college, I do remember one quote from the movie that is worth the recall: “Make it count.”

I wonder as I write, did the memory of that movie come to mind because we currently feel like we are stranded on a boat, destined for destruction as we head towards an iceberg, except instead of a boat, we are stuck in our homes by ourselves, and instead of an iceberg, we are headed towards a million unknowns of this virus and its aftermaths? No, probably not. I probably saw a picture of Leonardo DiCaprio before I fell asleep, had a steamy dream about him, and now he’s fresh in my head, telling me to “Make it count.” He is dreamy, that guy.

Like most of us, I have been trying to wrap my head around everything that is happening around us: the quarantine, sheltering in place, distance learning for the kids with all the schools closed, hospitals in dire need of basic supplies, food and supplies at the grocery stores running low, gun sales increasing, the market plummeting, assaults against healthcare providers and Asian Americans rising. These are all terrifying things, and it does have a foreboding “Titanic” sort of feel to it some days. And as a double dose of piss in my cheerios, this is bullshit because I already went through my quarantine just over a year ago, having to be isolated in the hospital for five out of eight months during my chemo treatments. I was separated from my family and friends, I ate the same boring hospital food, I had no privileges to outdoor air, my walks were in the hospital hallways as I wore a gown, gloves, and mask, and I was being pumped with poison while fighting for my life. On my graduation day, I thought, “Phew I hope I never have to go through something like that again.” But the jokes on me, because here we are just fourteen months later in a very similar boat.

I can’t help but make comparisons between the two different quarantines I’ve had to deal with. I think they are similar in the fact that they are both total disruptions from my everyday life, they feel lonely and unfair, and that even if I follow the experts’ orders, it is still a highly anxious time and the outcomes are not certain. Some things that made the hospital quarantine a little worse than our current quarantine situation are that the chemo really took a toll on my body, I was away from my family, I couldn’t drink alcohol, and you know, having cancer itself is just scary. But there were also things that were better than the current quarantine, such as not having to homeschool the kids (it’s not that I don’t like teaching my kids, it’s just that I suck at it and I’m afraid they are getting progressively dumber as the days go by), having uninterrupted reading or Netflix time (whereas right now I am basically the kids’ genie, here to service their every whim), and not having to cook a single meal or wash the million dishes I do daily right now. Taking all the similarities and differences into account, the quarantine that I’d choose is… neither. They both suck. But you basically have to choose the situation that you are currently in because otherwise, you’re just living in total denial. So today, I choose the coronavirus quarantine.

Despite the obvious difficulties of the cancer quarantine, I got through it surprisingly well. Certainly, the support from family and friends was a huge help, as was FaceTime and regular check-ins to keep me connected to the outside world. Yet there were unspoken but understood elements that were also key to remaining sane and staying the course, like doing the treatment as recommended because I had to. I didn’t want to be isolated from society for all that time, but I knew I had to, or the alternative was being really sick or dying. I had my pity parties here and there, but then afterwards, I would change my mindset and tell myself that this was temporary and I just have to do it if I want to get healthy again and get back to my everyday life. The same rings true for today’s quarantine. It feels like a huge inconvenience and disruption, but you just have to do it to keep yourself healthy and not spread it to others.

I think it is difficult for some to understand the gravity of the situation, especially if they don’t know anyone who has gotten sick, or if they don”t know anyone who is a healthcare provider that goes to work day in and out, not knowing what they are bringing home to their families. And when they hear that some cases can be mild, the quarantine and social distancing seem like even more of an annoyance and exaggeration than a necessity. And it’s okay to think that. Just don’t act on that opinion. Complain about it from home. Now, more than ever, it’s not about you.

It’s safe to say we are all struggling with this quarantine in some way or another because sudden life changes often shake us to the core. I think most of us by now have called on the obvious quarantine heroes (ie. Netflix, books, FaceTime or Zoom calls, the interwebs and all the glories of online shopping). If those things are still leaving you feeling somewhat hopeless or lost, here are some of the more abstract but essential heroes that got me through the first quarantine:

Trust

Trust what the health care professionals and scientists say. Most people go into the medical field because they want to use their knowledge and skills to help people, and need a profession that allows them to speak frankly about what they know. Most of the healthcare professionals I’ve ever encountered are no bullshit kind of people, so listen to what they have to say because it is important, and not self-indulgent or self-serving. When I was first told that I had to stay in the hospital for no less than a month, I tried to negotiate with the doctor because I thought I knew of a better plan that would suit my family and me. Not so much. The oncologist said the alternative is death. Okay fine, his plan was better. Weeks later, when the cardiologist said that all my outpatient chemo treatments would have to be inpatient, I felt like I suffered another blow to the gut with bad news. Again I tried to negotiate an at-home heart monitoring plan while I got my chemo on an outpatient basis so that I could be with my family, and she told me that if I chose that plan, the risk would be that I drop dead in front of my kids at home. Geez, okay, so at the hospital it was. My point is that it is a natural reaction to try to protect your freedoms and privileges because you think you know what is in your best interest, but in that situation and in this situation right now, it is absolutely imperative that we listen to the professionals. No one is blowing smoke up our asses, no one is trying to imprison us; they are trying to give us the best professional medical advice. Trust them, right now they know better.

Empathy and Community

Now would be a good time to put your ego away and think of others. Your concern for other people’s well-being could quite possibly save you and those around you in so many ways. My chemo quarantine was the pits, but I had to think about Jamie and the kids, and that going through the temporary hospital isolation would be better for the family in the long run. I spent my time figuring out how to keep Jamie and the kids’ lives somewhat balanced and sane while I was gone. It was a helpful reminder that there were more people involved other than little old me. Then the true beauty of empathy and community shone through, and friends and family from near and far helped get us through our hardships. They weren’t personally going through our situation, but they stepped out of their own situations and used their time and energy to help us without any expectation for something in return. Not only did their empathic actions help support us, but it also strengthened our relationships, knowing that we got through a difficult situation together. It also renewed my belief in the human spirit. Right now, we need to kick our empathy into high gear, think of others that really need us, and connect with and support our family and friends in creative and fun ways. It will give us deeper meaning in our lives, and help everyone feel closer, instead of alone, during this anxious and lonely time.

Perspective

It’s true what they say: “It could always be worse.” As shitty as having cancer was and being quarantined, it could have always been worse. Death would have been worse, a chronic form of leukemia would have been worse, being stuck in a hospital with a shitty staff would have definitely been worse. When I changed my perspective, I realized my situation wasn’t that bad after all, and that I actually had a lot of good things happening all around me. And I also realized my chemo journey was temporary, and when it was all over, I would still have all the good stuff around me. Similarly, our current quarantine is temporary. And although things are bad and will likely get worse in the next few weeks, the majority of us know we are not in the worst case scenarios. Sure, I miss social interactions, playing volleyball or having friends over, the freedom to go as I please without a mask and gloves donned, the kids going to school and getting a far better educational experience than the one I’m providing at home, Jamie coming home from the grocery store without the look of worry on his face over the process he has to follow to clean all the food. But that’s nothing compared to healthcare workers living in constant fear over contracting the virus and bringing it home to their family members; the worry of people who have been diagnosed with the virus, wondering if they’ll have a mild case or if things will progress quickly in a negative direction; the fear of small business owners and what will unfold in the following weeks and months. It could always be worse. So feel whatever you feel, and then take a look around, a broad look. You’ll find the good, and realize that your spot at home is not as bad as you thought.

Faith

I think there is a big spiritual component involved when getting through something as difficult as this, and you don’t have to be religious to feel the benefits of faith. Family, friends, and even friends of friends prayed for me, and just knowing the something as personal as prayer was offered to me had a feeling of healing and peace. I didn’t pray all the time, but sometimes I just sat quietly in my thoughts and allowed myself some introspection and self-reflection. That alone, whether there was a God component or not, helped settle my heart. I don’t know why it worked, but just a quick few moments of clarity and calm amongst the rest of the shit storm was like a double shot of espresso for my soul. If it sounds hokey, don’t do it. But after you’ve binge watched Tiger King and you still feel empty, give it a shot. I know you have the time.

These are the heavy hitters that helped me the most, perhaps keeping me from completely losing my shit. Don’t get me wrong, there was damage done physically and emotionally, but I survived. It has been over a year, and I’m still cleaning up some of the mess, but for the most part, I have moved on and am a better person for it. I think I could have ended up being a bitter person, had I gone through it in a different manner. But I lucked out, made some good decisions, had a good crew in my corner, and gave that unique time some meaning. That’s where making it count comes in. Do and think whatever you will, but at the very least, make some meaning out of this time. Maybe during this time you will learn that you enjoy spending time with your family, or perhaps you’ll learn that your personal space and time is extremely important. Maybe you’ll realize you enjoy working from home more than going into the office because you feel more focused when you’re not wearing pants. Or maybe you’ll realize you can’t work from home because your kids are so damn loud and your spouse won’t stop yelling (total hypothetical there). Maybe you’ll realize you have a natural calling to being a homeschooler, or, and more likely, you’ll realize that teachers are miracle workers that don’t get the thanks or admiration they deserve. Maybe you’ll finally have the time to reconnect with your spouse, since everyday life is usually all about the kids. Or maybe you and your spouse have spent too much time together and are secretly trying to passive-aggressively piss each other off, like him playing John Mayer music all afternoon while you write a blog entry just to annoy you (a very specific hypothetical). Maybe this will be a time that your kids could get reacquainted with each other and become lifetime buddies, rather than just house mates. Or maybe you’ll realize your kids will murder each other in cold blood over who gets to skateboard in the house next. Maybe this time will be an opportunity to work out at home and get that dead sexy body just in time for the summer. Or maybe you’ll instead choose to eat the queso straight out of the jar with a spoon because you already finished the chips (how else was I supposed to get the queso at the bottom of the jar?). Maybe this time will help us reconnect with family members and friends that we otherwise choose second or third over a busy everyday schedule of activities. And I could go on and on. For me personally, I feel like I’m getting the time back that I missed with my family from the first quarantine. Not all the time is good, believe me. If you asked my kids, they would tell you I am angry 50-75% of the day, and if you asked Jamie, he would just shrug his shoulders and say that he loves me very much and thinks I’m pretty. But deep down, I am grateful that I’m stuck with them for this extended period of time. I mean, when do you ever get time back that you feel like you’ve lost? This, in a time of fear, is pretty special for me. I finally have the time to dance with the kids, teach Evan how to throw a football and baseball, work on his batting stance or his running form, do volleyball drills with both of them, show Reese how to braid her hair or make fancy letters with calligraphy pens, go on jogs or bike rides with them, watch Jamie read them the Harry Potter books, and finish the night with a drink or board game with Jamie (though I often start drinking in the afternoon once school is out). You can be anxious and grateful at the same time. Take this time to find meaning, or it won’t count for shit.

I realize that I sound preachy, and I am unapologetic for that. It’s all coming from a place of experience, I know firsthand that the struggle is real, and I know we can get through this in a fulfilling way. We have now entered our third week of the home quarantine, and we will have many more weeks to go. Homeschooling will get easier (or we’ll care less), not showering will be our new norm, as will FaceTime calls and virtual board games, and we’ll get into our grooves as the days go by. But don’t choose a place of complacency and wait for this time to pass just because you know it is temporary. Make it count for you, and help others, especially the littles ones, find meaning in all of this too. There is always beauty in the chaos, and it will come from the human spirit. Dust yours off, we need you. We’re in this boat together, and we’ll survive.

(To my sister, my cousins, my Marquette girls, all my former and current co-workers, and all those in the community risking your lives to save ours, thank you! And to all parents working from home and/or homeschooling their kids, don’t eat your loved ones or feed them to wild animals. You are better than Carole F’ing Baskin.)