Thanks for the Cucumber!

Posted On April 2, 2020

I have not posted in a long time because things at the Dwayne have been very quiet. We cancelled Tate’s physical and occupational therapy appointments for a month, and his community college has closed its campus. We have been watching the news in horror as a global health crisis confines many of us to our homes and sends others out to wage war against a deadly threat.

Our house is one of extremes: Tate and I are living in 100% quarantine while Greg goes to work every day at LabCorp to help testing continue at the highest possible rate. When we’re all home together we try to keep our distance, but it’s not easy. I don’t even know if it’s effective, but we have to do what we can to protect Tate. I have moved into the guest room until our community in general is a “safer” place. I had no idea the mattress was so bad! My apologies to everyone who has slept in that bed and woken up a busted mess but has manners too good to mention it. I promise to remedy the situation when when we’re allowed to go out and you’re allowed to visit again.

We have not seen our Scott in three weeks, and there’s no definite end date to that. He is fighting a cough and applying for jobs since the restaurant he worked at has been forced to shut down. He’s also trying to manage 19 credit hours that are suddenly online classes. Scott is taking a salsa dancing class and said it has become the most ridiculous thing; he has to submit recordings of himself “partner dancing alone” for the rest of the semester to get graded.

Arizona State University was very proactive and converted to online almost immediately. With almost 72,000 students, it’s a city in itself and slowing down the spread of the disease was made a priority. I am so impressed how the minds in charge of that enormous school took swift action. Fact: one of the first 5 confirmed Coronavirus cases in the country was an ASU student that had visited Wuhan, China and returned to Tempe in January 2020.

Three times this week I have gone into Tate’s room to give him his night meds and found him on the phone with his brother, which as a parent melts my heart in all the good ways. They’re still as close as ever.

Most of Tate’s classes have converted to online, but one is “on hold.” I’m sure that last class will convert to online also. A silver lining to his campus being closed is that all the attendance worries we had at the beginning of the year are gone. He can take all the breaks, naps, and days off he needs and no one will be the wiser.

One of my friends recently wrote that she was grateful for all the ways available to communicate, and she is so right! At the time she shared that, she was working from home and could hear her son, who is a freshman in college, speaking Japanese in the other room for an assignment.

Tate’s cello teacher is now offering lessons over Skype, FaceTime, or Zoom only right now. She’s a robustly healthy person, and I know the decision to close her studio to her students was not easy, but ultimately she felt it was best for everyone involved. Tate was thrilled for this transition because we had cancelled his lessons indefinitely the same day we cancelled his physical and occupational therapy appointments.

And just to be clear, it hasn’t been difficult for Tate to cancel these appointments and sequester himself so that he can be safe as possible. He has fought SO HARD to have any future at all that riding out Coronavirus in his room with his cat is exactly where he wants to be. Tate knows he isn’t likely to survive COVID-19 if he is exposed to it, and he knows that with a serious preexisting condition and a nationwide ventilator shortage he wouldn’t likely get one. Tate is, and always has been, very self-preserving.

Our community continues to take such good care of us I can hardly believe it. We are blessed to be surrounded by such generous, caring people. My next door neighbor has offered to run any errands I might need and has already delivered. She often asks what she can do before I even approach her. She has provided potatoes, bottled water, dog food, (and peanut butter M&Ms that we didn’t ask for but she knows we love).

I find myself in a state of constant hope that somehow Coronavirus skips our house and yours. These are scary, unprecedented times. Please stay diligent for your own health and for that of the people that love and care about you.

S.