Tag Archives: Covid-19 pandemic

OctPoWriMo Day 15

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Today’s prompt is change of perspective. My poem is going to seem “out there” if you don’t read the suggested process.

colorful hair
My Hair’s Covid Dreams
 
My hair is tired of stay-at-home orders.
Tired of being held back by the ties of my face mask.
My hair wants to be blowing free at the beach
basking in the sun.
My hair wants to hang in my plate in a restaurant.
My hair wants to fling around as I dance in public.
 
My hair can’t remember the last time it was cut.
It seems such a waste to wash it and comb it.
Who sees it? Just a couple of people on Zoom.
 
My hair is tired of ponytail elastics.
It’s craving hair jewelry bling.
It’s demanding retail therapy—and not the online kind.
It wants to be dyed—not some inobtrusive color, 
but something sparkly and bold, 
something that will make people take notice.
 
My hair wants a selfie on social media.
My hair want to go viral, and not in a pandemic sort of way.

©ARHuelsenbeck

Things I’m Missing Because of the Pandemic

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Things I’m Missing Because of the Pandemic

First it was the scheduled activities that got canceled.
Sunday worship.
Church choir and hand bell choir rehearsals.
Weekly folk dancing.
Bible study. (Though it later continued on Zoom.)
Our Folk Dance Festival.
Writers’ groups. (Though we met several times on Zoom.)
My 50th high school reunion.

Then it was unscheduled activities.
Visits from our children became less frequent and no longer ended with hugs.
Hikes ended because parks closed.
Mani pedis. Because, strictly speaking, they are not necessities.
Retail therapy. Because dressing rooms are closed. And, frankly, I don’t need anything.
Haircuts. Although I had one a couple of weeks ago, because my quarantine hair was so stringy I was tempted to chop it off myself—and we all know how badly that would have ended.

crowd of people

The worst part of staying home was that on March 11, when Covid-19 was just beginning to heat up, my husband, Greg, had surgery, a discectomy and fusion from C3-C6 that was supposed to correct spinal stenosis and relieve his years-long bouts of vertigo. He was told it was a simple operation, and he would spend one night—two, max—in the hospital.

He didn’t snap back.

He couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t stand. Nurses asked me how long he’d had dementia. I told them he didn’t. They fed him through a tube in his nose, which he pulled out twice.

On March 20, the hospital called me and told me he’d developed aspiration pneumonia and had been moved to the ICU. My younger son and I went to see him—ventilated, unconscious. We held his hand and spoke to him for three hours.

The next day the hospital closed its doors to visitors, but Greg was moved out of ICU.

A week later, the doctors inserted a feeding tube into his stomach, and he was transferred to a skilled nursing facility, where he remained for nine weeks. He’d contracted metabolic encephalopathy, a serious brain infection that messed up his blood and brain chemistry.

For ten weeks, we couldn’t visit him. That was the worst part of the pandemic for me.

empty bed

Surprisingly, all those weeks that I was alone in my house, I wasn’t lonely. I missed Greg and I was sure Greg would recover quicker if we could just be together, but aside from being worried about him, I was content being by myself. I guess I really am an introvert. Now that Greg is home, we’re happy staying home together.

Sometimes Greg asks me if I’m looking forward to my activities resuming, and I have to say I’m not. I’ve gotten used to the relaxed pace of being home, and the thought of being out three nights a week seems unnecessarily stressful.

Now it’s your turn. How are you holding up? Are you anxious for things to get back to normal? What do you miss from life before Covid? What insights have you gained from doing without?

Creative Juice #188

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Creative Juice #188

Three poems this week, some funny stuff, and some useful information, as well as beauty.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Five: Pandemic Prayer

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Woman praying

Pandemic Prayer
by ARHuelsenbeck

Lord, I pray for an end to this pandemic
and yet, as the words leave my heart
I wonder if it’s even good to ask for
an end to the dying
an end to the pain
an end to economic chaos
an end to inconvenience
an end to isolation

what if this is Your way
of welcoming people to eternity
with You, an exodus from pain to paradise
or of reconnecting parents with children
and workers with their neighborhoods
what if this disease is accomplishing Your purpose

I still want to hang on to the way things were
when I could go to rehearsals
or out to dinner and a movie
when I could hug my friends
or even be in the same room with them

Your will be done
please strengthen me for what’s to comenapo2020button1-1

Creative Juice #187

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Creative Juice #187

Don’t spend one more day not knowing about these things:

NaPoWriMo Day Eighteen: Morning Walk

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StockSnap_EE7CC8DF17
Morning Walk
by ARHuelsenbeck

the perfect conditions for a walk
sunny blue skies
warm but not hot
light breeze
neighborhood blossoms blooming

people walking pooches
neighbors chatting six feet apart
faces masked (pandemic after all)
catching up on yard work
children chalking sidewalks

gathering forbidden
shopping discouraged
streets lined with cars
workers housebound
the perfect conditions for a walknapo2020button1-1

I is for “In the Meme Time”

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This is the third in a series. The first is here. The second is here. There may be more forthcoming. Or not.

Self-quarantined: write novel

C is for Covid-19

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This was meant to be part of a series of memes about what to do while self-quarantined. The first one is here. There may be others.

Practice your guitar

In the Meme Time: What to Do While Self-Quarantined

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self-quarantine