Almost apoplectic per the apocalypse

When times get rough, alliterate.

Seriously though, this is not how I saw it all going down.

Snow days, power outages, hurricanes, 911–all gone through in the company of family and community. Hunkering down and making forts out of couch cushions and blankets. Lighting candles, having potlucks, hugging each other a little tighter at night. Whatever was afoot, we were in it together.

On The Beach was a dystopian novel from my youth that made a big, big impression on me. Nuclear annihilation, in the form of a radioactive cloud, spreading from continent to continent. In one moving scene a character returns to his home town only to find the skeletal remains of his parents in bed together. It was both horrifying but also comforting—to be in the arms of a loved one when the end came.

Now we are facing some sort of world wide threat which, though not Armageddon, is none the less quite serious. And I am in the unfortunate position of being both exquisitely vulnerable and most decidedly alone.

My friends and family are checking in and making sure my needs are met. It is so very kind and a source of great comfort. But it does not change the fact that I am now socially isolated.

Last night my mucositis was so painfully intense I could not fall asleep. I am also dealing with some sort of virus, but it appears to be garden variety as I have no cough and my breathing has not been compromised. However, physically I am in a weakened state. Dr. Lin called to check in yesterday and discussed the possibility of going further down in dose. Fortunately I have a CT scan prior to my next infusion, and that should help guide our decision.

In the meantime, I have decided that if I can get through the next few weeks, I can get through anything.


11 responses to “Almost apoplectic per the apocalypse

  1. Linnea what are, and have been fighting for many years is nothing compared to this and I know you can beat it and continue your battle! You know we are here for you no matter what you make need as I know you would be, will be, for us!👈🏼❤️✊🏼

  2. Thinking of you! I’m older than you, but, well, I am basically OK for my age. But I know I’m going to have cabin fever soon, since I’ve been told by my children to stay home. Church is closed, clubs cancelled, all schools and activities cancelled. I can get my house “unjunked”, which I’ve been thinking about for a few years! But that doesn’t sound too appealing!
    But, I am praying for YOU, and really the whole country, to get through this nightmare, life-threatening for some and fearful for the majority of us.

  3. Linnea,
    This is temporary.
    That is my mantra.
    We are still connected,
    just not touching.
    I feel your isolation—and mine!
    My daughter won’t even stop by, afraid to give me something bad. What we all wouldn’t do for a hug about now!
    This is the trial by fire. When it is over—and it will end—we will appreciate little connections and touches anew. Hang in there, Hon!

  4. Kristen Kimball

    Dearest Linnea, know that you’re being thought of constantly by your many friends/loved ones. Not a real hug – but one in spirit.

  5. Oh Linnea I so feel for you. If you ever want a phone or Skype call with me let me know. (My email address is on my business website and my personal email hasn’t changed.) We are hunkered down in our house outside London, with a garden and a wood stove to help us along. These are incredibly fearful times for us all, and not only at the personal level – this threatens everything that makes our human world work – art and restaurants and music and cinema and bookshops and schools and universities and on and on. A tiny comfort that the birds in the English spring haven’t received the COVID memo and are busy singing their hearts out and building nests, and the flowers are popping up, and the skies are quieter (less air traffic) and clear blue when it’s sunny. And summer’s ahead. Let’s all get through this. Together as best we can.

  6. Who’da pictured this one… Linnea, call us whenever you feel like it or need to. We could use to hear your voice, too! Socially distant but fierce hugs xoxoxo

  7. I assume you’re using as much Zoom / Facetime as you want.

    It really is like a scifi film, isn’t it. We’re going through this, not literally alone (as in “nobody else has survived”) but without physical connection. I wonder, a generation from now, what science will have figured out about whether virtual connections do have comparable benefit, if at a lesser level. (I know touch is important to me.)

    I wonder if those raised as digital natives (“skype from birth”) will unfold as any different.

    I’m also gonna bet that as the months go by we’ll discover that some individuals have super-immunity to this virus, so they’re safe to hug the sick. But even better will be if some people just naturally kill the virus on contact, so they can’t be carriers! And others might be willing to go through some super-cleansing shower before they step in to hug those who need it.

    Friends have always said I have an active imagination. It helps, when you’re wondering if there could possibly be any way out.

  8. I hear you and am facing similar challenges. Mere supermarket runs to try to stock up (as my state & county leaders advise) leaves my running on fumes and needing to sit to muster strength but they have none in supermarkets. (I made do with an empty wooden crate.) Now that I’m home it’ll be 4 hours before I recover the strength to bring the non-perishables inside.

    Baby yourself and don’t hesitate to accept the help of healthy friends, family, and neighbors to get you through each day. Even consider meals-on-wheels if that’d help. And don’t forget I have a spare Inogen portable oxygen concentrator with your name on it just for the asking when you want it on hand.

    Best hopes,

    Craig in PA

  9. Karen Cunningham

    We are with you! Hug – HUG – <>. The Chicago LC gang wishes we were closer. So sorry for the pain you are experiencing.
    Karen XOXO

  10. Omg Linnea. This shit can’t be made up. Can we all just wake up and all of this is a dream. In any normality this is really not happening. Any virus for us is do scary. Do you have a nebulizer at hm. That just got me they my last virus. This is a just scary. Wish I lived closer to you. Nightmare X 1Million

  11. Hi there i am so sorry to hear this, I am somewhat in the same position plus my husband is an ICU nurse so that makes it even worth. I live in Washington state and they are now closing all the restaurants, take out orders only. You are absolutely right if we get through this we will definitely make it through anything. Sending good and happy thoughts.

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