Friday evening. Just enjoying one of the last quiet days before we have to drive to a new AirBnB seven hours away. Not looking at the news, though a friend texted me about Trump’s brilliant idea of chugging/injecting Lysol to cure the virus. I wonder how many of his die-hard fanatics will do just that.
Cumulative deaths: unknown. New words in the novel: none. New symptoms: none.
Thursday night. We might be infected.
Gf’s 22-hour hospital adventure in rural Quebec happened a week ago. One of the hospital employees had a bad cough. Today, she and I woke up feeling slightly worse for the wear. She has a bit of a cough. I have mild chest pain when breathing, talking, or laughing. The cough might be due to the dust in this condo. (We never vacuumed because there were no vacuum bags.) The chest pain might be due to something random, maybe. Possibly. Hopefully.
A week-long incubation period fits right in with most people’s observations. It’s possible that this is a nothing-burger and we’re just too worried. It’s possible that this is serious. We’ll wait and see how the symptoms develop. We don’t have a working thermometer, and there are no oximeters for sale online – at least none that are reliable. (Products with just a single fake review are easy to spot.) Gf’s Apple Watch allegedly has the oximeter functionality, but it’s not a supported feature.
Gf and I are committed to slowly working things out. Her therapist has thawed from the “dump him” position and recommended a good book on the attachment theory. That should make for some interesting reading.
As an experiment, I’m avoiding all the news for 48 hours to see if the underlying anxiety levels will go down or remain the same. Death counts in the US and Canada: unknown. New word in my novel: just 282.
Wednesday evening. The work project that I’d spent most of my vacation checking up on has been rescheduled for some later, indefinite date. Now I’ll get to enjoy my three days of vacation in peace. Heh.
Another fight with gf. I’m the immature and less self-aware one in this relationship: said a dumb thing, then kept saying dumber things and digging a deeper hole for myself. Her therapist told her to dump me. Her I-Ching told her to be like a wanderer. Her Tarot told her it’s about emotional depth and maturity.
I can’t tell if this is all because we’ve spent 40 days locked together, with no other people and no time apart – to the point where we’re both getting on each other’s nerves, and time apart (or just physically leaving for work) would help. Or maybe it’s that there are legitimate incompatibilities that we would’ve found months or years down the road, and this 40-day-long lockdown is helping us discover those permanent structural faults ahead of schedule, saving us both time, though not nerves.
I know that outside these windows, the world is getting progressively worse. Thousands are dying every day. Millions may starve as bottlenecked supply chains start to collapse. The world will never be the same. I’m aware of all that, and of how damn petty and insignificant it is to complain about work delays or personal relationships in a time like this. Compared to the giant global tragedies, these personal little tragedies and disappointments are nothing – but they still feel huge to those of us who experience them. History is made of individuals. This pandemic’s chronicle is made up of over seven billion voices and countless stories, no matter how mundane.
Cumulative US death total: 47,861. In Canada, 2,081. My novel: zero new words, obviously.
Tuesday evening. Just another quiet day – we’re both taking it easy, doing our own thing. Gf had a big fight with a close friend, and after that, and the hospital visit, and our discussions about the future, she needs time to process it all.
Oil crashed. Hard. I may have lost some money. I may have started to reevaluate what I do with my money and why incessant saving isn’t the most fulfilling strategy.
The world is still offline. Someone, somewhere, has started the first human vaccine trials. If it succeeds, that will be the beginning of the end. If it doesn’t, and once the impact of the unemployment surge and the bad future-looking guidance gets priced in, that’ll be just the beginning – at least for the world economy. Canada may start seeing beef price increases (if not shortages) after some major processing plants reduced their output. That’s one way for us all to switch to vegetarianism, I suppose.
Cumulative death toll in the US: 45,139; in Canada, 1,892. My novel: 958 new words.
Monday evening. Trying to make the best of my staycation, even though I have to spend at least an hour a day on a big work-related presentation that just happened to get scheduled while I was supposed to be away. I know how spoiled I sound, while over 22 million Americans have lost their jobs, tens of thousands are dead, and everyone is locked together – and yet my biggest problem is that my long-awaited vacation isn’t relaxing enough. Heh. By my guesstimate, there’ll probably be two good consecutive stress-free days before this week is done. And then… A two-week vacation in July, perhaps?
Gf and I are mending bridges and doing better. Nice long walk today to the local waterfall. Our greatest selfie yet, in the light of the slowly setting sun.
World war oil is getting a little bit ridiculous: for the first time ever, the price of the US oil future contracts went into negative territory. Everyone is righteously freaking out. Things should improve a bit after tomorrow’s contract expiration date, but who knows anything at this point? The demand is low and all the storage is filled up. What a strange world.
Georgia’s governor is reopening just about every public space (gyms, bowling alleys, etc), thus sabotaging all the efforts of most of the other states. A sleuth on reddit found out that all the “liberateFL” (etc) sites were created by one guy in Florida. Their nationwide protests are pretty tiny, and the signs they wave are mass-produced and printed out, with sharpies added on top as an afterthought. …and yet they’re getting more media coverage than giant climate change protests.
Cumulative death toll in the US as of right now: 42,677; in Canada, 1,731. My novel: 454 new words.
Sunday night. Funny how we always jinx ourselves. Today was designated as a truly relaxing day of my staycation, yet it ended with a giant emotional conversation (not a fight) about my not wanting to have children. It wasn’t until three hours later that we figured out that the timeline gf meant was five years down the road, not within a year.
Ho hum. Gf’s Tarot card draw on us continuing our relationship: the “spiritual reawakening” card for me; the death card for her. Ho hum x2.
World news: more people dying from coronavirus. Stay tuned for more world news as our coverage continues.
It’s Saturday night, and all is well. Gf got released from the hospital on Friday night: a full battery of blood tests and X-rays didn’t find anything unusual, though the docs admitted they didn’t have the expertise to figure it out. I’m impressed that their rural hospital actually had the CT scan capability – they’ll let us know the results once they’re ready. The upside is that gf is well, her kidneys and heart are healthy, and no one is in danger of dying. The downside is that we still don’t know what exactly is wrong, and we may have been exposed to covid while in that hospital. So it goes.
We’re back to normal with binge-watching TV shows, talking about life after the pandemic, having chill and civilized discussions about some of the big post-pandemic life plans we diverge on, etc. It’s good to be back to normal.
Meanwhile, for two days running, the daily covid death toll in the US has exceeded that of 9/11. I hate being right… My facebook pal and I had that disagreement less than 3 weeks ago, and it’s gotten so much worse. There’s more crazy randomness in the news: Hawaii has closed its beaches while Florida has reopened theirs. Frozen pizzas are getting rationed in some stores around the US. According to the radio (the hospital was a 40-minute drive away), Quebec is getting military assistance starting today, Saturday. They made it sound like the military will help only with retirement homes, but I suspect they’ll do more if there’s a need to do so.
Cumulative death toll in the US as of right now: 39,116. (Holy shit, it was just 28,628 when I checked two days ago…) In Canada, it’s 1,521. Just 245 new words in my book today – I really ought to set up a specific time slot to actually write.
Stay safe, fellow hermits.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.
Last night, gf started showing classic heart attack symptoms – fatigue, dizziness, shortness of breath, feeling like someone was sitting on her chest. We drove to the nearest hospital (40 minutes away, given how remote this town is) and checked her in at 1am, with just two doctors and a single nurse.
It took some convincing to avoid getting placed in the covid unit. (With her asthma, catching it would be a death sentence.) They didn’t say how many covid patients they had, but all the protocols were in place: hand-sanitizing upon entry, masks and PPE the moment docs suspected a possible covid case, etc. They ran an EKG, didn’t find anything, and hooked gf to a heart monitor for the night before telling me to leave. The waiting rooms are all closed, so I spent the night in my car. (That’s precisely why I always carry a blanket and a sleeping bag in my trunk!) Got a luxurious three hours of sleep, while gf got just 30 minutes – she could barely breathe.
In the morning, she got a super-nice doctor, equally nice Quebec nurses who actually paid to download a translation app in order to communicate, an X-ray, and a full battery of blood tests. They didn’t find anything obvious, but they’re keeping her for observation for one more day. I spent the day in the parking lot – pacing, reading, texting her. I’d forgotten to drop off the phone charger, so her phone battery slowly started dying while I dropped off the charger at the reception. (No visitors allowed, even for non-covid cases.) They said they’d sterilize it for an unknown amount of time (minutes? hours?) before delivering it to her.
It’s 3:30pm – I drove home, showered, ate, and I’m forcing myself to catch some sleep. Once gf is discharged, I’ll drive back up for her. The worst part, aside from the horrifying health scare, is that after five weeks on the run, we ended up going to a hospital that has some coughing people, not all of whom are patients. (Though I suppose that could be said about any hospital these days.) All our hiding, all our precautions will have to be reset. Once we’re reunited, we’ll have to operate on the assumption that we got exposed, and spend at least two weeks self-monitoring for symptoms. All that matters is that she is alive and well…
Thursday evening. A mildly stressful day today: gf finally agreed that we’ll need to go to the hospital (but which one?) because her health issues can’t be fixed simply by mixing the perfect electrolyte cocktail. We’ll wait till we’re back in Ontario, or go to the local Quebec clinic sooner if we must, but the emergency room won’t do anything unless she’s in the middle of a flare-up…
I also learned that the education credential assessment miiiiight get accelerated if I procure digital copies. Hmm. Mixed feelings on this one: it’s great news, but it also means I’ve wasted a month by not emailing them sooner. On the upside, that does save me six-eight months, so huzzay! Next step: taking my own fingerprints for an FBI background check.
On top of all that, a work colleague disturbed my staycation with something they did… And to top it all off, I slept too long and got up at 12:20, so that’s half a day gone. Not a happy camper, though Stardew Valley helps take the edge off a bit.
World war oil still goes on – the prices hit an almost 52-week-low point earlier today before having a small bounce up. Trump’s deal with OPEC+ has failed to produce any results. 22 million Americans are jobless now, and that should get reflected in the stock market aaaaany minute now. Meanwhile, Amazon’s stock hit an all-time high of $2,461. Ho hum. I always expected it to go very high (internal goal: $5K; stretch goal: $10K) but it’s unusual to see it move so fast after two years of hanging just below $2K.
I’m a news junkie in case you haven’t noticed, but even I am finding it hard to keep up anymore. The grotesque stupidity keeps on coming… The mayor of Las Vegas begged the governor to reopen casinos because less than 0.5% of Nevadans died of covid. Can’t make that up… Not even looking at the news today after that.
Cumulative death total in the US as of right now: 34,450. In Canada, 1,259. Only 61 words written today.
Take care of yourselves, fellow hermits.
Wednesday night. Gf’s health is rocking back and forth: just when we think we’re close to figuring out the electrolyte misbalance, it hits again. Not as bad this time as in the past, but still worrying.
She and I spent about 12 hours last night and today looking at AirBnB listings that wouldn’t qualify as the banned short-term rentals (so at least four weeks), and the main requirement was location. We need to be in Ontario if gf requires medical attention: health cards from other provinces are honoured, but there’s always red tape. We finally ended up finding a luxurious condo being rented out for next to nothing ($780 USD for four weeks!) in Niagara Falls. (The Canadian side, obviously.) This pandemic is such a strange way to explore Canada… One upside (aside from amazing amenities) is that it’s right next to a hospital that has multiple specialists. If there’s a bona fide medical emergency, we’ll be ready.
Gf got bored and cut my hair last night, and it looks pretty funny – not unlike The Rock wearing a turtleneck. If and when this pandemic ends, folks will either start rocking homemade haircuts or grow their hair (and facial hair) out in weird and exotic ways.
Earlier today, I made a trip to a local grocery store. It was in the local village, different from the store in the adjacent town. The store was wide open, and though there were duct-taped direction arrows on the floor, a ban on children, and mandatory hand sanitation at the entrance, it was almost like shopping before the plague. So strange to consider how much the things for granted gladden us when we can get them back. It was almost as strange to see a grocery store without any sales. The prices were on the high end of reasonable, and occasionally above that threshold. I was in a rush, trying to avoid anyone else while I was the store’s sole shopper (slow day, I suppose), and didn’t notice that the yogurt I bought had passed its “best before” date four days prior, or that one of the cheese packages had been pierced. Oh well. We’ll just eat them first, I guess.
As of right now, the cumulative US death toll is 28,628; 1,011 in Canada. New York added about 3,000 more deaths to its total after deciding the undiagnosed deaths may have been due to the virus. The US hit approximately 2,500 new deaths today. The daily death toll inches closer and closer to the 9/11 totals. I hope at least one media outlet will have the guts to point that out when the time comes.
Zero words on my new novel: the outing to the store, the laundry day, the sterilization of groceries, and the hours spent on AirBnB drained me completely.
Earlier today, at yet another daily press conference circus, Trump floated the idea of adjourning the US Congress, something no president has ever done. It’s always hard to tell whether he’s serious or trolling. If this was an attempt to distract the media from his failures in the pandemic handling, then he succeeded: the political social media can’t talk about anything else. If, on the other hand, he was serious about adjourning Congress and defunding the WHO…
I remember my decision to move from the US to Canada. I’d been set on leaving since early 2016, when I saw a few too many disturbing trends. Three years and five attempts later (the UK, Poland, Canada, Australia, then Canada again), I received an internal transfer offer from an old colleague whom I’d never actually met. It wasn’t a hard choice, but it wasn’t a happy one, either. Leaving everything behind, taking a massive pay cut, abandoning my Search & Rescue crew, all for a chance of becoming a resident in a saner country. If I’d stayed in Seattle, I would’ve had more creature comforts, but I would’ve remained on a demoralized team in a doomed department, surrounded by high-strung and overworked colleagues, stuck in an expensive city filled with gloom and endless unsolvable problems. In the end, the Canadian team won me over with the simplest, most rudimentary emotional appeal, and that was all it took. A month after I crossed the border, my old department got disbanded: most of those who stayed had to start all over. It was a strange and muddy choice. Not good or bad, but tactical or strategic: limited immediate rewards and life under an incompetent angry clown, or a chance to spend the rest of my life in a civilized country, however imperfect it may be. I often wonder how different my life would’ve been had I stayed in Seattle, had that simple emotional appeal failed to work on me. I can almost feel my other self going through the same motions, running the same routine, riding the same bus to work, and going mad with anxiety that has neither an easy answer nor a release valve. I wonder if that other me can even imagine how very strange my life has become.
Good night, y’all.
Grigory Lukin.com 
