300 Days of Sunshine

Today marks 100 days since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic.  100 days of social distancing.  100 days of staying at home.  100 days of transforming healthcare to meet the new demands.  100 days of learning to recognize each other with masks covering our faces.  100 days of an unbelievable economic collapse.  100 days of witnessing the societal impact of extreme stress on a civilization.  100 days of this enormous mental shift and moving through the stages of grief over the world we used to know.  100 days of coming to terms with the new normal and envisioning what the world will look like when we come out on the other side.  It has become apparent that there is no end to the pandemic in the near future, and the life we used to know no longer exists.  Large group gatherings are not happening.  Celebrations of life and death are modified.  Meetings are now on Zoom.  Happy hours and coffee dates are in the park, with masks on our faces.  Conferences are now webinars.  Races are virtual. 

Last week I found myself with a mid-week day off work and decided to get out of the city and into the mountains for a few hours.  It's amazing how therapeutic a change of environment can be, especially in the current chaos of the world.  Since Meredith was born in January it feels like I have had to be responsible for caring for someone else 100% of the time every day.  While working in healthcare, my energy is entirely devoted to taking care of other people, often individuals who are extremely sick and scared, sometimes going through the most challenging phase of their life.  And when I'm at home, I'm a full-time mother and wife, navigating this new journey of raising two daughters with entirely different developmental needs.  I can't remember the last time I didn't have to care for anyone but myself.  One of the great contradictions of quarantine is that we are either isolated and lonely or else completely overwhelmed by being with the same people all day.  We don