Where Am I?

Peek a Boo!  You can't see me!

Where am I?

Well, here.

In my room.  On my bed.

Where I’ve been for almost 48 hours with the door closed unless someone is bringing me something.



Am I sick? Yeah.  With Covid?  Probably not.  Almost definitely not.  But I do have a sore-ish, kinda scratchy throat and a (very mild) cough.

And a child with a tattered heart and lungs.

So while everyone agrees it’s probably a mild summer cold, I’m here until proven otherwise.  (hopefully tomorrow morning).  And I’m facing some ugly truths here.

I don’t think I’m going to be back in the classroom this year.  If every time I end up in contact with someone sick I get quarantined, that’s just not going to work.  Have any of you been in a public school in the last few years?  There’s a reason they refer to it as a petri dish.  Kids are fomites, germ factories, they travel and they happily share!  And someone has to be able to confidently care for Aaron around here.


Right now, Andrew and Michael are doing most of his care because they’re home and not going anywhere.  But if school is open (yeah, big if), they need to be there.  So they’re out.

We postponed Aaron’s birthday celebration last month because Joseph had been exposed at work, and because it was a known exposure, a negative test helped but didn’t completely release him from quarantine.  And trust me, you’ve NEVER seen someone so happy to go back to a job that’s not his favorite thing in the world.  I think he literally skipped out the door that Monday.  Because I’ve been careful and we can’t come up with where I might have been exposed, a negative test will release me.

Joseph’s quarantine set-up.
His room and bathroom were beyond the plastic.

It’s a weird time around here.  We don’t do much. At all.  A very kind neighbor lets us come swim in her pool when no one else is there, so there’s that.  And that’s about it.  We set up the trampoline for the first time in years and Simba is always good for some laughs.  But mostly, we kinda drift.

I worry.  A lot.  I worry about my family, about my kids' jobs.  I worry about whether Jonny and Avanlee will be able to go to Saudi Arabia, and when it will happen.  I worry about my parents down in Arizona, where they're enacting crisis triage now because the hospitals are full.  And I worry about what happens here in a few more weeks because so many people think it's just not that big of a deal.  It is!  And when push comes to shove, when there isn't the staff or the room for two more patients, Aaron won't be the one chosen.

I’ve had lofty goals for getting my class worked on.  I mean, there’s nothing else going on, but I find it so hard to focus.  Aaron is back in school, summer school.

We thought long and hard about that one.  But we’re also very confident in the school’s screening procedures and the very low numbers of people actually there.  And frankly, we didn’t save his life ten years ago for him to sit at home and do nothing.  This is about the only thing that he can get out and do.  Right now, it’s probably not that big of a deal.  We are here (even if we are kinda boring).  But come fall when the days get short and dark and his brothers are gone, he needs to have stimulation as well.  And he loves school.

So I hold my breath and pray and send him, so very grateful for amazing nurses who go with him to watch out for him.

On another note, I mentioned I’ve been in my room, holed up, for almost 48 hours.  Yeah, that includes yesterday, Sunday.  We’ve been doing church at home since mid-March, and I’ve been pretty much the driving force.  No one has been coerced, but I’ve put together the songs and conference talk, or reminded whoever has a turn to do so, told them when things needed to be done and so forth.  You know, kinda the one in the middle of all the prep work.  Not yesterday.

It was a very interesting, and moving experience to sit in my room with my door cracked open and listen as my husband and boys sang “I Am a Child of God” and then moved on to the sacrament ordinance.  Sitting all by myself on the side of my bed, there was plenty of time for introspection, and not much in the way of distraction.

Please, wear the mask!!

I’m so grateful for the blessings in my life.  I’m grateful for an eternal perspective.  I don’t know what this next year (or more) will bring.  I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a bit rough and different.  It’s certainly not what I would have wished for for my boys’ high school years, one’s first and the other one’s last.  But people have gone through rough times in the past.  Ancestors of mine have worked hard only to leave everything, including small babies’ graves, behind.  They’ve fought for this country of ours, leaving their families to do so.

Things aren’t perfect, but they never will be.  But I do live in a wonderful nation, one that gave Aaron a chance at life when there aren’t many others that would have.  What a blessing that is for me, and for so many others.

So many thoughts.  I know this is a bit of a ramble, but without structure to my life right now, I find it hard to put structure to my feelings.  We’re kinda in a haze, drifting along mostly.  And I can’t wait to get out of my room...

First three months of quarantine.

"God understands our prayers even when 
we can't find the words to say them." 

~Author Unknown

10 until 10

Ten years.  TEN YEARS, GUYS!!!

This guy, he's going to be ten years old on June 13th, TEN DAYS!!!!

Before he was born, he only had a 50% chance of surviving until birth.  What??  Isn't that when we start counting lifespan?  And then when he was born, I was told he had about a 5% chance of reaching his first birthday.

I lived on the edge all that year, wondering how much longer we had.  His first birthday party had more people than at a lot of wedding receptions.  I was so overwhelmed and grateful for that milestone, even though he slept through pretty much the whole evening.


Having reached that milestone, I learned that he had a 60% chance of turning ten.  If someone had told me before that one of my kids only had a 60% chance of reaching ten years old, I would have been devastated.  Instead, I was over the moon.

From 5% to 60% was such a huge leap.  I really couldn't fathom that much time.  Now, I can't imagine life without him.  (Not that I could before either though.)

Anyway, here we are, ten days from his tenth birthday.  And I will forever be leaving behind the days of kids in single digits.  I remember being so excited myself when I reached the ripe old age of ten, double digits and all that.

I had hoped to have a fun birthday party for him this year.  In fact, a friend had offered to throw one for him at a local park with ponies and all sorts of fun.  Obviously, that's off.

We would love for anyone to send a video (he loves those!) or greeting or whatever and we'll read or watch them with him on his birthday.  Because of the pandemic, it will be immediate family only here, and that's assuming that they're all well and the weather is good, because it will be backyard only.

Please, please know we're so grateful for all your love and concern and prayers through the last ten and a half years.  He's not only our miracle, he's everyone's.

Compatible with Joy!

"The first fact about the celebration of birthdays is that it is a good way of affirming defiantly, and even flamboyantly, 

that it is a good thing to be alive." 

~G.K. Chesterton

This is Rough -- Week Whatever

Things are rough here, at least in the space between my ears.

I do okay as long as I only think about today.  If I try to think about tomorrow, or next month, or next school year, it's really, really hard.

Economies are starting to open up.  That's a good thing.  I really do believe that.  And governments are trying to put into place ways to keep the vulnerable safe until a vaccine and/or a good treatment can be found.  They're saying that anyone at high risk and anyone caring for them should stay isolated.  Except I think that most consider the elderly to be the only vulnerable population.  There are all sorts of ways to avoid going out if you don't have to work, if you're retired, if you don't have children at home.  So far, I'm not seeing a way to do it otherwise.

There are a lot of high risk people who are not retired.  Many are children whose parents are not independently wealthy, who can't afford to "retire" even for a couple years.  What do we do?

Andrew and Michael need to go back to school, if it's being held.  They NEED  that interaction.  They can't stay locked up for two years.  It wasn't super hard when all their friends were isolating, but now that they're starting to get together again, they want out too.  I need to work.  But it's public school.  A petri dish.  What do we do?  Calling a number for groceries, meds, etc to be dropped off for the next two years isn't feasible.

I think of my high school years, of the time over the past few in the schools and of the crowded hallways, the packed classrooms.  Guys, that's where the memories are!  That's where the good (okay, and not so good) things happen.  I don't remember the lessons from classes much at all.  I remember the interactions.  And as I look at what is being said, and what is not, I don't know that this will happen for the kids next year.  I hear about only a portion of students being on campus at any one time.  That sounds lonely, and scary.  Yes, I know, it's life.  And they'll get over it.  But I ache for my kids, my boys and the kids I've taught.

There is just no good and easy answer to any of this.

I've worked hard to transition Aaron away from the blended diet that he does so well with to a formula, that isn't nearly as good for him.  But if he ends up in the hospital, there's not a good way to get his food to him, and they won't provide a blended diet.  Even more, if I get sick and can't make it for him, he needs to still be fed.  If anyone in our home gets this, all our nursing will stop.  So we'll be dealing with the virus and no help from the outside.  I keep having visions of it being like when Laura Ingalls and her family got malaria, and everyone was so sick and there was no help until someone found them.

Yesterday morning, early, I got a knock on my door.  Andrew was there and had just thrown up.  He'd made it to the bathroom, but it was his turn to get up with the puppy, so what should he do in the morning?  I told him to wake Michael when Simba started whining and tell him what happened.  Okay, fine.  Before this hit, I would have been asleep again before he even got back upstairs.  Instead, I lay awake for over two hours, wondering if Covid had found us, and how.  Was this the start of it?  Where was it going?

He threw up once, that's all.  No fever, no diarrhea, no muscle aches, nothing.  And yet, I still made him stay in his room all day long, by himself, meals and everything.  Normally, if it had been 12 hours and nothing (or sometimes sooner!) I let the kid out.  But no way.  He didn't get to come out until this morning.  And I worried the whole time.

I guess there's a reason that much is written about certain parts of history and how people endure, or even thrive during those times.  How they make people stronger, better, or sometimes bitter.

These are unprecedented times.  We keep looking back to the 1918 pandemic and all that happened then.  I wish I had more writings from people's lives.  My great-grandmother lost both her parents within two days of each other.  She and her brother were placed in an orphanage.  Yet, when I hear stories of all she went through during her life, when I look back on my own memories of her, she was a rock!  She worked so hard, endured so much, and yet was funny and gentle and lived a long life.

So right now, I'll try to keep my focus on the here and now.  I try not to think of what it would have been like if my own high school years had been interrupted like this.  I try not to envision what might be coming.  I'll continue to work with my boys here at home, keep training this puppy of ours, and find time to work on my own schoolwork.

I've started taking a video or two, just a few seconds long, each day to put together once we're done (or once I decide it's been long enough anyway).  It makes me look at things differently.  What do I want to remember from this time?  What am I going to forget about?  What am I taking for granted?

There is a future coming.  I don't know what it will hold or what it will look like, but one thing is certain, it will come.

All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seed of today.

Croft M. Pentz

An Eventful Time: Week 6

Looks like I'm writing about every other week.  At least I'm still writing, right? 

Anyway, it has been a bit of a crazy week here.  The week before was pretty normal, whatever that is anyway. 

We had Easter Day on our own, which was a little hard for me.  I miss my kids, sooooo much!  Sunday dinners are much easier to prepare and clean up after, but I miss the banter and laughter, and the hugs.  I very much look forward to the time we can be together again. 



But this week?  Well.... 

There are people doing different things during quarantine, things that otherwise wouldn't happen.  Us, too, apparently.

The boys, Andrew especially, have been begging for a dog for years.  I keep saying no.  There's not time, there's not a fence, there's not, well, whatever.  Too busy.  Except now we're not.  (I guess.)  So we've been casually looking, and then it wasn't quite so casual.  Andrew really got into it.  He'd spend hours each day looking at classifieds and on rescue pages.  We even had a beautiful German shepherd come out for a "visit."  He was a sweet dog, but not a good fit for us.  And then he found him. 

Meet Simba!  Initially his name was "Lucky" but by the second day he'd warmed up enough that he was pouncing on things, and crouching before!  He even saunters and runs and plays like Simba. 

The boys are loving him, but also learning about sharp puppy teeth and getting up in the middle of the night to take care of him.  It's a learning experience. 

And Jonathan graduated this week.  Finals over, he and Avanlee came out for a porch visit and it was good to see them, but hard not to hug.  Right now, they still plan to move to Saudi Arabia so he can pursue a Masters/PhD in mechanical engineering in August.  But no ceremony, no party, just a hike to the Y on the mountain for the two of them.  I'm so glad they have each other.

Aaron continues to do really well.  His school nurses come work with him each school day for a few hours.  He goes on walks, does physical therapy and is working on counting and understanding coins, among other things. 

Long overdue pictures put up.

I've gotten a start on my own course work, and the Andrew and Michael are moving forward with their own lessons.  We got some sad news as two favorite teachers at the middle school won't be back next year.  We already knew we were losing an amazing principal.  This whole lack of closure is so hard!  We didn't know the lasts were going to be last.  I wasn't even at the schools the last couple days because of the ballroom competition down at BYU. 

I don't know where this whole Covid thing is going to go.  No one does.  Right now, people seem to be saying there's a whole lot of over reaction, blowing things out of proportion.  The medical personnel don't seem to agree.  I just know I don't want to take a chance with Aaron's life, or anyone else's.  I'm more than a little worried that we'll follow the 1918 flu pandemic where the initial wave, the one in the spring, really wasn't that bad, but then when things were relaxed, it all blew up in the fall.  I've gone over my boys' schedules for next year wondering which classes are going to be very difficult to do online.  You know, choir, band, that kind of thing really needs a class. 

But at the same time, the slower pace is also kinda nice.  I like waking up about 7 and relaxing in bed for a little while before getting up and going.  There would be no chance for a dog with all the school and soccer and scouts.  Everyone is at dinner each night.  We've watched more movies in the last six weeks than probably the last six years.  Everyone knows when bedtime is, and it's late enough that there aren't (many) arguments.  Aaron spends a lot more time out and about with us because he's not so tired after being at school all day, and neither are we.

It's just a new, strange way of life right now.  But we're all still alive, and enjoying life, while also missing the old stuff.

"When we are no longer able to change a situation, 

we are challenged to change ourselves." 

~Viktor Frankl

Week 4: Hitting our Stride?

I know, I know, I missed week three.  It happened, trust me. 

We're hanging in there.  Funny, in a lot of ways, we've been prepping for this since Aaron's birth, but preparation and execution aren't always the same thing. 

Last week (week three), we got into some routines.  School work was being done (mostly) and chores were not.  Sound about right?  I signed up for my online class and started looking at things.  Aaron continued working on his school with his nurse. 

This week was spring break, and we took it!  No school for the boys, a bit more "projects" that have been languishing, and lots more movie time.  I finally got my closet (where Aaron's meds are kept) organized and cleaned out.  Now I actually know what we've got.  Amazing, huh?  And I started my class, got assignments and started turning them in.  We'll see if I've got what it takes to go back to school after almost 30 years. 

Aaron and his brothers even got hair cuts.  Yeah, it was past time.  Pretty sure I did them last during winter break.  But hey, it happened this week!

Aaron is doing pretty well.   Allergies are kicking both of us, but we do what we can.  I have started trying to put into place what needs to happen if I get sick.  From what I'm hearing, many struggle just to walk a few steps, or even sit up.  I can't be out of commission like that.  Not that I'm planning on getting this, but then neither was anyone else.  I'm trying to transition him away from his blended diet.  If I get sick, or if he ends up in the hospital for any reason, it would be incredibly difficult to maintain that.  And I don't want to have to make changes when things are already stressed. 

It's quiet around here, especially on Sundays.  I miss my big kids.  They don't come around because we're trying to keep everyone safe.  But Sunday dinners with five of us instead of 14 or 15 is a bit of a change.  I guess it's six, because Aaron is here even if he's not actually eating with us.  He does now have room to be at the table, and thinks it's really funny to put his feet up on it.  His brothers laugh at him while telling him that's not nice.  I don't think he's going to learn anytime soon...

I made masks for everyone this week.  They're cotton with a double layer of non-woven interfacing for filter.  The good news is, they're also easily washable, and each one is different, so it's easy to tell them apart.  I never thought I would put medical masks in Easter baskets.  But I also never dreamed that I'd be dropping off Easter boxes to my kids who don't live here.  Later today, we're going to go out for a drive and do just that.  We packaged them this morning and then we'll call each one as we put their box on their porch and wave at them.  Oh, boy.  This one is kinda hard. 

My cute granddaughter is six months old!  I'm so glad she was born six months ago, and not during this thing.  We got her to wear a mask by sewing a binky into it.  She still wasn't quite sold, but it was much better than the looks she gave me when I tried to see if I was making it the right size.  It was like, "Gramma, you're trying to smother me??!!??"  Shocked, worried, a little scared...  Yeah, it was kinda funny. 

I'll be honest, I'm kinda struggling.  It's hard being home all the time, never going anywhere.  I love my family, and there aren't even that many of us here right now, but to be with the same people, day in and day out, not see others...  One of the reasons I love subbing is that I get to interact  with soooo many people!  Here, it's me, William, the kids, and whatever nurse is here (although usually they're here while I'm sleeping).  Sometimes Linnaea comes up so her mom can work.  But that's it.  And it leaves a lot of time for thoughts and feelings and, well, whatever.  But also no real "alone" time, which I also miss.  I'm learning more about who I really am, and some of it is pretty good, and some I'm not that thrilled with.  I suspect that's the way it is for most of us. 

So this Easter, like this spring, is kinda different.  I'm grateful for the opportunity we had to fast yesterday in a world-wide fast.  I'm so glad for the chance we had to watch General Conference last weekend and the messages that were imparted, messages of hope and courage and strength.  I know where my strength comes from, and when I am still and listen, I feel the peace my Savior brings. 

I have no idea what the future is bringing.  No one does.  But with my Savior's help, I know I can find the strength and peace to make the most of it. 

I know not what the future holds, 

but I know who holds the future.  

~Author Unknown

Week Two: Settling In

We're getting there with this whole "social distancing" thing, hitting our stride (maybe, knock on wood, fast!).

Utah schools did an online "school spirit" week, and we mostly participated.  Honestly, we probably did better this week than in the weeks the kids are actually in school.  There was a crazy sock day, a whatcha reading day, pajama day (how easy was that!), email your favorite teacher day, and school colors.  In one form or another, we managed all but the last one.  Oh, well...

Crazy sock day

Keeping in line with what the kids are doing, I started my own online class this week.  I've got lofty aspirations to enter a Masters of Social Work program in the fall of 2021 and have some prerequisite courses to complete first.  I managed to get a scholarship for one through BYU Independent Study, so here I go!  My goal is to work in medical social work, seeing as how that's been such an integral part of my life for the past almost ten years.  Wish me luck!  It's been a very long time since I was in the classroom and everything has changed!

Whatcha reading?

Aaron is doing well.  We're hanging in there.  I find myself checking the news multiple times a day.  I've decided I'm grateful that Utah only updates once a day.  I know when it will be and check just after that.

On the plus side, I get to spend more time with my cute granddaughter.  She is so much fun!  And we've gotten more housework done, including moving furniture around to make this better for everyone. (Although my boys may not think that's so much of a plus!) 

I worry so much that we're not doing enough.  I know (believe me, I know) that the flu kills so many more, but this is different, this is new.  And it's quickly overwhelming hospitals and equipment supplies.  The flu doesn't shut down elective medical procedures or cancel office visits, both of which have been done.  And by the way, "elective" means it's not an emergency, not that it's just cosmetic.  A hip replacement, a g-tube, ankle surgery, tonsillectomy:  those are considered "elective."  If it can be put off without risk of death, it's elective.  And they're not happening right now.

Utah hasn't seen a lot, yet.  I'm praying we don't.  Andrew is supposed to be in New York City right now.  Two and a half weeks ago, over 80% of the parents voted to continue with the trip along with one to California.  With Aaron's challenges, we pulled Andrew out.  Obviously, they've since been cancelled and no one has gone.

We've tightened things down around here some more.  Our adult kids were coming over for Sunday dinner along with William's mom.  That's not happening anymore, and I miss them terribly, and it's only been two weeks.  We've tightened up our nursing.  There was one nurse who was also a student, and when cases started appearing, I asked the agency to not send her until two weeks after her last hospital clinical, but now I've asked that she not come back until after this passes.  The four I've got coming are all very careful about social distancing, and so are their families.  We try to do the same.

President Russell M. Nelson called for a worldwide day of fasting and prayer today.  As I ponder upon what that means, I'm reminded that we've seen miracles come about due to faith.  We've seen them in our own lives, and also in scripture and the lives of our ancestors.  I know my nightly prayers are fervent pleas for strength and courage and comfort for the frontline workers in this pandemic, for those who are fighting the virus themselves and for their families, for the doctors and scientists who are working tirelessly to find treatment and a vaccine.  I pray for strength, for health, for us and for those around us, both physically and emotionally.  And I pray for peace.

Faith is not without worry or care, 

but faith is fear that has said a prayer. 

~Author unknown

Lockdown Week 1, Take 2, Switching the Field

 I just spent the last hour plus writing a lot of things out.  This week has been different, challenging, sometimes HARD.  But I don't think it was any harder for us than for many others.  In fact, due to the need to keep Aaron safe the last almost ten years, it may have been easier.

But as I look through my notes that I've jotted down this week, one thing stands out.  This too will pass.  This will be temporary.  It will change the focus of many lives. Sadly, it will take many lives.  But we need to look for the good, too.

Last Sunday, as part of our worship service, we watched "Music and the Spoken Word" from the week before.  As part of the service, the speaker spoke of  the "Winged Victory of Samothrace".  The statue is broken, missing her head, her arms.  He referenced the beauty of the lines, the grace, and the unknown origin of the statue.  And then he said that it reminds us that "Victory is beautiful, but never flawless."

That spoke to my soul.  Life doesn't have to be perfect.  I don't have to get everything right.  I just have to keep trying.  I feel so overwhelmed by all the roles that I have: nurse, teacher, cook, referee (yeah, three teenage boys will make you one very quickly!).

President Nelson's message of hope during this time was also helpful.  We can find joy in the journey, which prompted me to think about what was happening if I wasn't finding the joy.  What am I looking at?  In soccer, when an offensive player is being overwhelmed with defense, many times they call for them to "switch the field."  If the defense is focusing on one or two players, that means someone else is open.  When I'm overwhelmed, discouraged, I need to switch the field.

When I focus on the news, the inability to get out among people, all of the "what ifs," it's hard, it's crazy hard!  I start to worry, am I doing enough?  Am I good enough?  Can my kids learn what they need to at home?  What about AP tests?  Will he be ready?  What about soccer?  Are we taking enough precautions to protect Aaron? Can I get all his meds?  What about food?  Can we make it through this lockdown without hating each other by the end? What about getting enough exercise?  Why me?  Why us?  Why now?  And why on earth an earthquake????

But when I switch the field, everything changes.  Spring drives me crazy. 
There's never enough time with soccer and band and choir and scouts and youth group and prep for end of year tests and AP exams.  We rarely even eat dinner together.  I usually leave it out on the counter until everyone cycles through because schedules are so difficult.  It's cold and rainy, but sports and carpool and everything goes on.  Kids are "done" with school, but still not done, so it's a struggle to keep not only my kids focused at home, but my students at school.

Instead, life is much slower right now.  I make breakfast each morning.  That hasn't happened for years.  Michael watches a quick funny video from his principal.  We start the day with a short seminary lesson via Facebook Live (thestevescott, I highly recommend it!) and then move to school work.  The boys are (fairly) focused and get their work done during the morning.  We all have lunch together and then "story time."  I'm reading The Orphan Keeper out loud to them.  It's a good book, but one I don't think they'd ever pick up on their own.

When things get squirrely, when frustrations rise, I send them outside to play football in the yard, or upstairs to use the pop-a-shot.  There's free time.  Yeah, quite a bit of screen time.  We do a scripture study and write (briefly) in the evening after dinner and then watch a movie together.  Last night was Lion King and there was discussion on whether singing was allowed or not.  I pulled the "mom card" and announced that we could, as long as it wasn't overwhelming.  😁

We've adjusted nursing hours so that Aaron's school nurse can come in and work with him each morning for a little bit, so he's still learning as well.  I'm hoping to go back to school for a Masters in Social Work the fall of 2021, and I need to take three classes prior to that to be admitted into the program, so I'll be doing online work along with the kids.

We now have time to cook together.  Michael and I did a quick inventory of the food we have in cold storage, and we're in good shape there.  Wednesday morning started out with an earthquake.  Utah doesn't usually get those.  We were definitely shaken up, but so many people called or texted to check in on us.  Not only neighbors, but also a nurse manager and his equipment company.

So while it's taking time to get adjusted to our "new normal," there are good things too.  We've done the new normal thing before.  And this won't last forever.  It may last a long time, but it will come to an end.  I don't know what will happen in the future, but I know if I can stay close to God and remember that sometimes I need to switch the field, we'll make it through.

This is not the first time the earth has gone through a pandemic; it won't be the last.  I'll do whatever I can to protect my family and my community, but at some point, I have to leave the end result up to Someone else.  I don't have that kind of influence or power anyway.  I'll try to nourish and care for my own soul so that I can be open to the needs around me.  And as we prune out the excess dead wood, there will be more energy to put into areas that are more important.

And if you're wondering, the previous post was in definite need of switching the field.  There wasn't much focus on the good there at all.  Be grateful it was just a draft.

Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left. 

~Hubert Humphrey