Grief – Sassy Dreams Awake

CANCER, community, COVID, Grief, Pandemic Social Distancing, relationships

Impromptu Immunocompromised Support Group

Posted on October 15, 2021October 15, 2021 by sassysheisme

I had my oncologist checkup today. The doctor was running way behind. I was in the waiting room for nearly an hour, I didn’t mind. I started a Covidiot Support Group while I waited.

There were three of us waiting. All of us got to talking about dealing with the unmasked and unvaccinated and the choices we have to make with people, especially those close to us.

One has had to tell family to stay away for about a year now. They are angry with her because they can’t come visit her toddlers or their son, but they flat out refuse to get vaccinated or wear masks. This lady is undergoing chemo and literally has a chemo port sticking out of her chest. She is immunocompromised and is taking care of herself. Instead of understanding, the family tells her she’s selfish for keeping the family apart, making her the bad guy and telling all who will listen how selfish she is. Projection is a mofo.

Two has had similar issues because she’s also immunocompromised and she has an 11 year old in school (who, if it’s not already available to him, will get a Covid shot for his 12th birthday). She has relatives who don’t care if she’s compromised, they want to see the kid who can transmit it to her easily. I don’t envy that tight rope. She’s had to be the selfish bad guy, too.

Two’s kid attends HISD, which defied a gubernatorial mandate to not mandate that which has been scientifically proven to reduce cases – masks. Because of masks, HISD kids are less at risk. HISD has roughly 197,000 students and 27,000 employees. As of today, community control has been achieved with less than 200 cases in HISD per day. Masks. Work.

Me? I’ve had to draw some boundaries with people, and damn, is it difficult. I am immunocompromised. I have to keep these boundaries in place. There are unvaccinated people all around me. If you want to see me, you wear a mask, we go outside, and you have to be vaccinated. Period. Dot. It flabbergasts me how people can take my desire to be healthy personally, but they do.

I am not selfish, I’m practicing self-care. I am diligent. I am doing whatever it takes to stay healthy so I can live my life to the fullest. I am not the bad guy. How can I be the bad guy when all I’ve done is draw a line that requires someone to do something free (that will protect them also) or wear a piece of cloth on their face so they don’t potentially make me ill? I had some unvaccinated people socially distance visit and wear masks. They obeyed those boundaries (this was before Delta). They worked with me. I love them for that. I’ve had to get stricter as the virus gets worse.

Interestingly enough, when I was going through cancer treatment and had to be extra careful then, some had no issues doing whatever it took so they could come see me and love on me. I did the same for my brother when he had leukemia. I had to wash my hands to my elbows, wear gloves and I wore the mask and I did it with all the love in my heart so I could be with him.

The difference now? I can’t wrap my brain around it, because I think it will hurt more than I want it to. There are some people, however, who love in words and not in action. And right now, I need the action. One, Two and I need that action, intent and sacrifice, and trust me, we rarely, if ever, ask for it.

Now we’re asking for it and we will continue to do so because in our cases, it’s not about them. It is about us. Our health and well being, which includes our mental health.

One and Two were pretty pumped up when I went back to the doctor’s office. So was I. It’s been a long haul. I’ve lost people to Covid, and I still can’t believe they’re gone. No funerals. No memorials. We’ve all been through a lot and there is a clear path to victory but only the selfish bad guys seem to want to get there (which includes those who are vaxxed to protect themselves and others).

I get it, some can’t be vaxxed, and they need the same boundaries I do because of it. I feel for them. I’m sure some treat them like selfish bad guys. To those choosing not to be vaxxed, these are the boundaries we have to have to stay healthy. Please don’t take it personally. We love you, we really do. We’d like to stay healthy so we can come see you again one day. Hopefully sooner than later.

I am so grateful for those who are doing whatever it takes for me to have a safe trip for me to see my Bestie and my family next month, and who do whatever it takes to hang out every now and then. I am worth a piece of cloth over their mouth and nose. Why is that so hard to say? Why do I have to say it?

One day, this pandemic will be in the rearview mirror but the boundaries for some may not be. I will continue to stay healthy, including my mental health. I will continue to evolve. I’ve learned so much during this pandemic. Upward and onward.

CANCER, commentary, Grief, holidays, Pandemic Social Distancing, Uncategorized

In Like a Lamb, Out Like a Lion

Posted on December 31, 2020 by sassysheisme

I can’t believe we are at the end of 2020. I started off the year by choosing “Roar” as my One Word 365 choice. Little did I know I would not be the one roaring my way through the year, but COVID 19 would instead.

Today is social distancing day 291. Trying to bring my thoughts together is difficult, simply because the circumstances of my life haven’t really changed from day to day. I had so many plans for my staycation, but mostly all I’ve done is survive. That, my friends, is a worthy goal achieved. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

Last night, I took a late call from a friend who lost her mother to a savage, quick-spreading cancer. We talked about all COVID had taken from us, robbed from us in broad daylight. Though she was able to have the final, precious moments with her mother, her confidante, her best friend, she was robbed of all the moments she could have had if she had been able to visit her in the hospital the last few weeks. My aunt could have had her family visit her and not leave her wondering if everyone was dead because they weren’t coming to see her. My aunt didn’t understand. My friend doesn’t understand. I don’t understand.

None of us understand.

COVID has robbed me of visits, precious time with my family. Some aren’t getting any younger, and some are getting older at a pace that if you blink, so much is missed. Kids are missing the camaraderie of choir, sports, clubs, and special dances. The adults are missing some semblance of preciously needed down time. Others are missing company. We are all missing something.

Yet there are still people out there who complain about masks or doing anything to prevent COVID for their neighbor. Even if it was only symbolic and not effective, as they claim, they still show their selfishness putting their supposed inconvenience against showing they care for their neighbors, their families, OUR families.

One of my childhood “Dads” passed from COVID recently. Two more adults from my childhood have died as well in the same time period, and while they may not have passed from COVID, COVID is robbing the families of proper funerals, robbing them from the normal first steps of the grief journey.

Compassion is free. Kindness costs nothing. Empathy means you are emotionally mature enough to realize it’s NOT ABOUT YOU because you’ve felt someone else’s pain and you can understand what someone’s going through. Our country is full of people who cannot muster any of those three emotional states or actions. That’s one of many frightening revelations COVID has shown me about America in 2020.

I am hopeful, that as vaccines are distributed (disturbingly slow) that COVID, the great thief, becomes COVID the great professor of how to human better. Many lessons yet to learn, many battles yet to fight, but we made it to this point in time. A time to look back (20/20) and a time to look forward.

I haven’t chosen a “One Word” for 2021. I don’t know if I will or not. After all, I chose the voice of a lion for a year that began hopeful and bright that turned into a roaring storm that has tossed me about while staying rooted in the same place for way too long. I need to think more carefully and reflect on lessons learned in 2020 that began like a lamb, and is ending as a rain-soaked roaring lion.

Grief, Pandemic Social Distancing

Of Grief, December 9

Posted on December 8, 2020 by sassysheisme

I’ll be honest, this week has been awful so far. My oldest aunt passed away on Sunday afternoon. While I am relieved her husband and one of her children was able to be with her in the end, because of COVID, she spent too many weeks alone, not understanding why. One day there will be a reckoning for the selfish and careless who did nothing to keep this virus at bay. I’m sad, I’m angry, and I hurt for my family who has to navigate what would normally be devastating in itself and now all the rules are different and the norms are thrown out the window.

On top of that, tomorrow would be my older brother’s 55th birthday, so I face tomorrow, as I always do, with mixed emotions, and fresh grief piled on top. Grief is grief. Grief is also different at the beginning and the middle, and grief is different for everyone who experiences it. No one, and I mean no one, should tell another how they should grieve. Yet, I encourage people to feel their way through their grief and not avoid it, no matter how much time has passed – one hour, or forty-two years.

Sometimes, I can’t wrap my brain around time. It’s been almost twenty years since I last heard my brother’s voice or saw his face but measured in feelings, it feels like yesterday. Grief has no expiration date. I used to think it should have a date where it didn’t hurt anymore, or sneak up out of left field and surprise me, but now I know that will be impossible. Where those minutes and years and feelings and time collide, there is a reminder that I was loved by a brother who also teased and tortured and supported me like most brothers do.

If I try to bypass the convergence of grief, triggered by whatever it just so happened to be that day, I miss out on memories, on reminders of silly or lighthearted moments that grief can never take away.

Throw in 2020 and all of its emotional landmines, and sometimes it’s the perfect storm of emotion. Still, I’ve learned to look at grief as a gift – grief leads me back to people I miss, to moments I cherish, to reminders that make me smile, even through tears.

Happy birthday, Scott. You are missed.