What Does This Have To Do With It

Yes, that's me circa 1974.

And me in 2012 and today.

I posed for the photo as I prepared for a local Biggest Loser competition.  I included the photo in an online blog and on FaceBook as a means of body shaming, hoping it would motivate me to lose weight.  It did and it didn't.  I lost twenty-five pounds during the three month competition and gained back even more.  And this is how it's been every year since, with any and every weight loss program, succeeding and failing, failing, failing, over and over again.

With the Corona diet, I lost ten pounds while I was sick.  I had no appetite, and but for the occasional soup and crackers, I hardly ate anything.  I have gained back the ten pounds and more, even though I continue to have no taste for food.

Obesity is one of the underlining conditions and could have been the reason COVID-19 chose me.

To Celebrate or Not

I have not been overly or overtly celebrating my survival of COVID-19.  I won't say I kicked Corona's ass.  I can't say I won.  I think my speaking it, feeling it, even thinking it does a disservice to the ones who didn't survive.  I don't have survivors' guilt.  Just a lot of questioning and a whole lot of sadness and at times numbness.  I am not asking, "Why me" and answering "Why Not Me."  No, I didn't and wouldn't sign up to take one for the team and neither should all the others.  I don't wish this demonic disease on anyone.  But, I will be okay.  I will get there.  In time.  On my time.

In the meantime, I feel like celebrating my birthday next week.  So, please join me.

Heather Dawn's 64th Birthday Bash

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

7:00 p.m.

Please wear bright colors

And in the meantime, you take care of you.  While you are doing everything to be safe physically, you also need to take care of your mental and emotional health.  These have been trying times.  Stay abreast of the news, but don't be obsessed with it.  Switch channels.  This is advice for you and for me.

A Day In The Life

I made this video on March 26th and in it I said this was my best day, even though my eyes told a whole different story.  I thought it was my best day because my recorded temperature for that morning was normal:  98.1 at 7:30 a.m. and 98.4 at 10:59 a.m.

At 9:32 a.m. my text to my daughter read, "I am going to watch.  Today is the day."

At 3:03 p.m. "Been holding at 99.4 without Tylenol.  Guess fever is fighting last remnants of virus.  Outside in the car getting some sun."

I posted the video to my daughter at 3:25 p.m.  At 4:00 p.m., my temperature had spiked to 101.3 and I cried. I cried because I really thought I was home free and I was on the way to mend.  I cried because I was tired of being sick.  My daughter called shortly after 4:00 p.m. and she sensed something was wrong.  I told her my temperature was up.  I didn't tell her I had been crying.

Tracing COVID

I paid a whopping $175 for a five day vacation to Florida, February 28 to March 4. which included a ticket to Hamilton, airfare on Spirit (yes I flew Spirit and it was a brand new plane, ha!) and accomodations at my sister's home.  Cheapskate.  Me, not my sister.  She had a nice house and a pool, I had my own room and bathroom.  And I had my baby sister to take me here and there.  She was and always is such a gracious host.  It was better than a hotel, B&B, or air bnb.

To get to the airport, I drove my car to an offsite parking lot (forgot to add that cost to the five day vacation).  A bus transported me to the airport, with the driver, handling my mini travel bag (mini because it had to fit under the seat of the plane or I would have to pay a baggage fee. Oh no, not I!).  I sat in the first row of the bus.  Other passengers passed me by, getting on or off the bus.  Did anyone cough or sneeze, I don't remember.  The driver handed me my bag after I got off the bus and I handed him a tip; our hands may have touched.

At the airport, I used the kiosk to get my boarding pass; the TSA agent stopped me to check that I had TSA pre approval.  Yay, cheapskate me paid the $100 Global Entry fee, guaranteeing me skipping lines during international travel and I had the envied TSA pre approval.  I made contact with many other people.  I asked the waiter at a bar for a glass of water with a wedge of lemon (I wasn't paying $3 for a 25 cent bottle of water) to take my medication.  It wasn't really medication; it was a sinus tablet to help my ear drums from being disgorged by the cabin pressure in the plane.  Have you ever felt that pain?  The waiter obliged, but didn't wash his hands counting to the birthday song as he gave me the glass of water.  He didn't wear a glove.  It wasn't required then.

I had the chills during my stay in Florida, indoors, outdoors, no matter where I was.  My sister had a party in my honor, attended by more than twenty family members I didn't get to see much often.  There was a lot of hugging.  I was the only one who complained about being cold. 

When I returned to New York, I also experienced on and off days of chills with no fever.  I wore thick sweaters indoors or kept on my coat.  It was very, very strange.

The first case of COVID-19 was in Washington State at a nursing home, where patient after patient were dying. That was in January.  There was no concern for us in the east till it made it's way to New York on March 6 when a man tested positive for the virus.  New York became proactive.  A containment area was set up around the area he resided and worshipped because many with whom he came in contact also tested positive.  The country, slow to the draw, started to take notice at a molasses pace.  We were told to wash our hands, counting the birthday song for ten seconds, which would later change to 20 seconds.  Chills, by itself was not a symptom of the disease.  It was only recently, that the CDC updated its list of symptoms and added chills.  Prior to that it was chills and shakes together.

Could I have had COVID-19 when I was in Florida, 16 days before the night of March 15, when I crawled into bed not feeling well, shivering and shaking all night, waking with a fever of 100.9?

Thinking back, in early February, I had the common cold, no fever, which kept me home from work and in bed.  I thought it unusual at the time.  Was it COVID-19?  That would take it back another 20  days or more.

But I am only speculating, let me look at other suspects.

On Friday 3/6, I had a doctor's visit to a medical center that closed the Monday following because someone tested positive for the virus.

The dentist?  I haven't heard from her since my visit on 3/7.  Is she ok?  Was it her?  Was it her assistant?  Was it the door that I opened with bare hands, entering and exiting?  Was it the keypad at the parking lot?

Maybe it was at the Nets games on 3/8, where I sat in a $625 seat, (by now you know I didn't pay for it myself)?  I was ten rows up from the court (whoop! whoop!) in an aisle seat where people passed me by.  Was it my nephew who was my date for the game?  But he has not been sick.

Was it the meeting on 3/10, where two people at the table where I sat coughed?  I was one and two chairs removed from them.

The gas station where I pumped gas on 3/13?  By this time, I had been traveling with disinfecting wipes and a bottle of spray which I used everywhere I touched.  I remember, though, not wiping the gas pump.  I don't remember sanitizing my hands after.  Did I touch my face on my way home?

Could it be the containment area in New Rochelle that I unknowingly visited on 3/10 and by choice on 3/12 and 3/15?  I felt it was the safest place to be because it was so sanitized, my eyes burned whenever I got out my car.  I also loved shopping there because nobody else did.  People were afraid of going to the area.  The supermarket remained well stocked and I found items that could not be found in other stores.

I could go on and on.  There were many other places and circumstances.   Why does it matter anyway?   Why trace COVID?  It matters because it could have been you, or you, or you, the ones least suspect.  You could be asymptomatic. You could be a carrier, not necessarily for me, but for someone else.

But more concerning is that I could have had the virus in me more than a month before it showed up in the form of a fever.  I cannot be an anomaly.  There must be others.  We are walking around infecting others.  We are going back to work after the fourteen day quarantine.  Medical professions have gone back after seven days, and I applaud them because their service is desperately needed.  But are they making us sicker?  I am convinced that the virus creeps slowly in you and then without warning Bam!  I am convinced that the virus lasts longer than the 14 day quarantine recommended.  How concerning is that.

Tracing COVID is not just about finding the source, it's also about the when and the how long.

Family Is Everything

Elder Leonie's 70th birthday 2015.
Missing from photo are 5 brothers.
One brother predeceased us.

There was something about Sunday, March 15^th.  That morning, I had made a list of people to contact and I started out with the siblings.  I sent a group text at 9:32 a.m.which said, "Siblings, checking to see how you are all holding up during these trying times.  Be safe."  

A flurry of emails went back and forth with offerings of prayers, encouragement, advice, and heart emojis.

Entry, Sunday, March 16,  12:35 p.m.
"I am not playing with Corona…Mi tun chemist and expert on whipping Corona backside.” 

Before this, I had stocked up on the items to make disinfecting wipes and sanitizer.  But, why, why, did I threaten Corona!!!???  By the end of that evening, I would crawl into bed, not feeling well.

Entry, Wednesday, March 18, 7:32 p.m.:
"Who knew that after checking in on Sunday, I would be the one needing checking in on Monday.  I woke with a temperature of 100.9 after shivering the whole night long.  I have requested testing but because I don't have any other symptoms, and the fever is reduced, I am at the back of the line.  I feel good, cooked and ate today.  I am on self quarantine for the next 11 days.  I have all I need in the house.  Just ordered a 1000 piece jig saw puzzle.  I am reading, playing games by my lonesome, including Scrabble and just lazing in front of the tv.  You all stay safe, wash, wash, wash, and wipe, wipe wipe."

The flurry of emails started up again.  And the phone calls.  And the prayers.   One of the best things that came from this was Family Zoom, started by baby sister (she is no baby), Annie.  Family members join us from Canada, Jamaica and in the US - Georgia, Maryland, Florida, California, Chicago, Ohio, New York and New Jersey.  We meet weekly, with scheduled activities.  On Good Friday, brother/friend Rev. Ian Straker led us in a solemn service with family members from Jamaica, Canada and the US participating in the readings.  We played Pictionary with nephew Kyle, won by daughter, Jo-Ann.  Sister Leonie gave a tear jerker on her and daughter Simone's hospitalization for life threatening conditions and her gratitude to those who helped.  She then took us through laughter at her dramatic presentation on aging.   In our next Family Zoom, niece and psychologist Dr. Shari will help us get through these trying times.

Family Zoom 4/3/2020

FamilyZoom 4/25/2020

We are a large family, connecting directly or indirectly with the Larmond (my mother) and/or  Miller (my father) side of the family. We are a blended family. Family is everything.

Beatrice Larmond "Granny B"

Richard Larmond "Pappy"

Trieva Larmond Miller & Alanzo Miller

Family Reunion 2011

Family 2016

Brothers, sisters and spouses 2010

Nieces and nephews 2010

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Drop and Run

“Man can live by mangoes alone,” is what I told Maxine after I devoured one of the humongous mangoes she left with a bag of groceries at my door.  Maxine became my drop and run angel the day I became ill.

Cousin Maxine and I bonded over my stewed peas.  She loves it.  I always have to leave a special portion to the side for her when I cook it for family functions.  But she and I really really bonded when we planned the first Jamaican flag raising in the City of White Plains, August 2019.  I saw Maxine’s skills at the time.  I saw her persistence and consistency.  

On the afternoon of Sunday, March 15^th Maxine called to say she was going to Costco and what did I need.  I told her water.  I had everything else, including food.  Lots of food.  For the past three years on Easter Saturday, I host a brunch at my home where 25-35 gather.  I had already begun my shopping for this year, so I had a freezer and pantry full of food.   Maxine said she would drop the water off to me.  Shortly after speaking with her I, myself, left to go to the supermarket to see if they had items that Maxine could not find at Costco.  Maxine said she would meet me there. 

Two weeks earlier I had discovered that particular supermarket by chance.  I am an avocado addict.  I have it every morning with my protein shake, so when I saw an ad in the supermarket's circular for avocados for 49 cents each, I knew I had to get some.  I had never shopped there and didn’t know where it was.  My GPS took me to the address.  When I arrived, I wondered why there were so few cars in the parking lot.  Inside the supermarket, there were only three people shopping.  It hit me then that I was in the containment section of New Rochelle, the epicenter (at the time) of the Corona Virus.  I asked a store clerk and he confirmed it.  I didn’t run.  I shopped.  Stupid you say.  No, I thought, because by now everything about this area was sanitized, even the outside air.  That explained why my eyes burned when I got out of my car.

This is where I ended up on Sunday, March 15^th and where Maxine met me.  We shopped together, but mostly down different aisles and we paid at separate cashiers.  After shopping,  Maxine transferred the water to my car. As fate would have it, I did not pay her for the water. We never touched each other.  I worried about her when I became ill. I informed her at 10:08 am on Monday, March 16th that I had a fever.  It didn’t faze her.  She got into her jump in and help mode.  

“What do you need?  I am going to CVS.” She picked up my prescription, bought Tylenol, Pepto Bismal and Gas X. “I am at the supermarket, what do you want?”  Crackers, I said, but along with the crackers, came oranges, grapes, banana and soup.  “I am at Royal Caribbean, what do you want?” Nothing.  But at my door were bags with coconut water, hard dough bread, bun and soup.  “I am at BJ’s send me a list.” I didn’t need anything, but she left me frozen beef patties, tuna, avocado, spinach, oranges.  

Maxine even contacted the testing site, this being the third time (my daughter and I had called previously).  When no one returned the calls, she came to get me one afternoon and we drove separately, she behind me to make sure I was safe, back and forth to the testing site.  

I knew Maxine was kind, but I didn't know her heart was that huge.  I owe her much more than thanks, than gifts.  Nothing I can ever do in this lifeime can repay her.   Except for stewed peas, of course.

Even now, she still calls to see if I want anything.  Mango, Maxine, mango.



After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

To Test Or Not To Test

I am a plus one.  I haven't been a plus one in years.  YEARS.  I go to functions alone.  I live alone.  No one invites me to be their plus one.  Feeling bad for me?  Don't.  I know some of you are wishing you were a minus one right about now.  You have been quarantined with your wife/husband, children, for days now, all day long.  I saw a hilarious video recently when a man is being told he is be quarantined.  The dialogue goes like this:   

" Because of Corona Virus, you are going to be quarantined, but you have a choice.  A.  Do you quarantine with your wife and child or B..."   

"B, B, B."  he answers without waiting to find out what "B" is.

But that's not the kind of plus one I have become.  I was never tested for the Corona Virus while I suffered through it.  I am not among the count of positive test results.  You may ask me how do I know I had COVID-19 and not the flu.  My answer to you is I had whatever Chris Cuomo had.  When all these statistics keep changing day after day, with the numbers climbing, I and many more like me are not among the count.  There are many plus ones out there.  Add us to the count and it is much higher.  And it grows even more when you add the number of people who are asymptomatic, those walking around, serving you, treating you, some right in your households, who are virus positive and don't even know it.  If everyone gets tested, that number would go up exponentially, 

And those who are/were positive need to be retested before we reenter public spaces or go back around family members.  The fever left me on day 12 and I remained fever free for three days following.  The protocol says I could then go back into society, socially distancing.  I knew for sure I wasn't over it on day 15, so I continued my self isolation.   How many people are out there transmitting the disease to person after person after person?   When will we come to the realization:

Everybody needs to be tested.  Everybody. 

I have a negative test, actually, it says "not detected."  I was triggered when I first received a voicemail from Cindy of the New York State Department of Health who said she was calling to schedule me for an appointment at a drive through testing site.  The same testing site that turned me away, rejected, defeated and in tears.  The same New York State Department of Health who took 30 days to call me back.  Her call triggered my feeling of dejection and for days after Cindy's call, tears would well. When I received the second call a week later, family and friends had already convinced me to test so I said "yes."  But then the questions came, Why now?  Why waste a test of me?  Is this a conspiracy where they want to have me as a part of their negative stats, not adding to the positives?  What was this going to do for me?  I struggled, but decided for my own peace of mind to do it.   

What do I do with my negative "not detected" test?  I know for one thing, I don't want to be around you anymore than you wanted to be around me when I was positive. Therefore, my self quarantine continues.  I would like to be checked for antibodies.  I would like to donate plasma.  But even that is questionable.  It is said that because I didn't have a positive test, I am not eligible to donate plasma or to test for antibodies.  Does that even make sense?  Has it changed?  This is a moving target and things keep changing day by day.  I have signed up with the CDC for a study.  It's been three weeks and no calls, no follow-through. I know this is new, but it's been almost two months since we knew of the first case in the United States, time enough for the powers that be to get it together.

Start testing everybody for COVID-19 and start testing everyone who had COVID-19 for antibodies, whether we were tested or not.  




After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Let Me Count The Ways

My dearest daughter Jo-Ann, how do I love you...

Do I love you more now that you were my Guardian Angel?  Do I love you more now that you nursed me back to health from COVID-19?  

The morning of Monday, March 16th you called me and you asked "What's wrong?"  I was sick enough to let you know I was not feeling well.  I confessed that during the night I had the shakes all night long.  By morning, I felt okay, showered and got ready for work.  I was earlier than usual because I was going to Restaurant Depot at 7am to get containers for our seniors' take out lunch.  I had made the decision to close the program and instead have the seniors pick up lunch from the door or from their cars.  I had sent an email to the Parking Department at 6:52 am to let them know the plans for the seniors so they would not ticket them for standing in the No Parking zone in front of the Slater Center.  Right after hitting send, I realized that I was going nowhere.  The fever was back, along with lethargy.  When you called, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a low grade temperature, but with a body that could do absolutely nothing but sit.  I don't know at what point I determined that I had COVID-19.  

That's how it started, but what happened next was a transformation of me becoming the child and you the mother.  It was not easy for you.  I was the stubborn, hard-headed person I am, doing things the way I wanted.  I went between feeling sick to feeling well enough to not listen to you.  Afterall, you were 225 miles away.  We tugged back and forth.  You wanted me to move to Maryland.  You wanted me to be near the John Hopkins Hospital.  You were concerned about me being in New York, the epicenter of the virus. You wanted to take care of me.  I stressed you out so much that best friend Roni had to intervene.  

I didn't keep copious notes.  I have text messages, messages to my doctor through the portal and notes written on the back of an envelope and the empty flip side of a document.  In one email exchange between us, I said "Love you girl.  You have been a rock for the maddah. Even dough yuh ruff soh till,"  and you responded, "You needed tough love!  Sorry I was being a bad girl.  Love you."  And that was only day two.  It came to a point where I couldn't resist anymore and you went from being my mother to becoming my nurse. 

You see Corona is vicious.  It is a sadist.  It knocks you down to submission and then brings you back up and makes you feel good. And it keeps doing that till it takes over full control.  It took away my appetite, it spiked my temperature, it gave me the shakes, it took my energy, it kept me quarantined all alone, but not alone because it was my constant companion. 

My notes tell the story of your concern.  I would take my temperature before you called.  I have my temperature listed, 6,7,8 times per day, plus the times I texted it to you, which also doesn't take into count the times you called and would wait on the phone while I took my temperature.  You called last thing at night to make sure I took your concoction, your elixir that you called "tea," a mixture of the usual Jamaican cure for everything, Wray & Nephew rum, honey, lemon and your added tea and ginger.  You forced me to ask neighbor Dwayne to get me Tylenol and had him search for Vitamins and Elderberry and soup, which he willing did.  You mailed me a package of Tylenol, Vitamins, Theraflu, Emergen-C and surprised me with sour mango strips which soothed me.  You had Amazon ship me coconut water.  You called to make an appointment for testing, even though I had called them myself the day before.  They kept you holding on the phone for an hour and you stuck it out. You called me often. You kept me company. 

There are a few things I didn't tell you about my illness.  I wouldn't let you hear me cough.  I didn't tell you that after the 15th day since I first got sick and the third day of no fever (standards by which you can get out of isolation), I was really not over it.  I had no taste for food.  I coughed one night uncontrollably.  I had low or no energy.  I vomitted one morning.  I had stomach issues, where it seemed like the food and the virus were playing tug and war in my stomach.  I didn't tell you that the morning I had the temperature of 102.9 that I also had a blood pressure reading of 156/102 and that at 4:47 a.m. on March 20th, I went back to bed with a calmness and acceptance that I would die that night from COVID-19 or high blood pressure. 

I survived.  Today is the 40th day since I got sick.  You still stay with and on me to make sure I take care of myself.  I informed you this morning that my test result came back "Not detected," and you hoorayed and "woot woot."  And we are making plans to see each other soon, soon, even if it means I wave to you from a distance, throw you a kiss and turn right back around for my return trip to New York.

Do I love you differently?  Do I love you more?  No.  My love for you cannot and will never ever change.   From day one, I loved you passionately and wholly.  What's changed is how I see you.  I hold you in wonderment.  I didn't know you had the strength.  What I found out more than anything else is that you love me.  Thank you my dearest daughter.  I count the ways.

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Drive-Bys

The Getaway Car

You hear the word drive-by and the first thing that comes to mind is drive-by shooting.  Well, yesterday, I did a drive-by and I took a shot.  A selfie shot.   

Drive-by’s are different these Corona days and I am sure Webster and all other dictionaries will be updated with a new meaning for drive-by.  There are drive bys for birthdays, showers, weddings, funerals, all life’s moments.  I had a virtual drive-by for a special girl, granddaughter Laila's 10^th birthday.  Let me take a break to the story because some of you are asking when did I become a grandmother.  Well, Roni, the mother of Laila, is best friend to my daughter, Jo-Ann.  Roni is my second daughter.  Her mother Eze is my sister friend.  Now you get it.  Back to the story.  The family resides in Maryland, therefore, I could not participate in the actual driveby.  However, 3 1/2 hours and 225 miles away in New York, we (family, friends, old, young adults, children) were able to zoom in on her drive by celebration.  We even played a game with her.  We witnessed cars driving by and tooting their horns and dropping off gifts from their trunks.  This was Laila's double digit ten.  It was supposed to be her big day.  And it was.  How different!  And yet, what memories she will have of her special day.  

My actual drive-by was to pick up wine and sweets from great and sharing and caring friends.  My first stop was to Cece who was not going to let me go another week with CVS bought wine/not wine for our Zoom Cocktail Pajama Party.  I got me a real bottle of  wine from her.  Shh!  Don't tell her that I found a liquor store that is open.  Her wine is more extra special.  It can't be bought in the store.  It's packed with love.  Cece lost her husband to COVID-19 and funeralized him just a week earlier by Zoom.  CeCe with her big heart who needs a hug herself, instead extended me one in a bottle.  I picked up my loot, took a shot and made my getaway to my next location.  (You can see from my selfie shot just whom she blames for her husband's death.  The same one I blame for my bout with Covid-19.)

Newly widowed Cece still finds time to give

My next drive-by was to sister friend Eze who has been cooking up a storm and dropping off dishes and plates to friends' doors.  She has been a source of strength for Cece, dropping off daily meals to her during her husband's illness and during her bereavement.  Eze has been making runs to others for no other reason than just because...  What a heart!!!  Because of my quarantine I have not been able to experience these deliciousness.  That ended.  Hooray!!  I did a drive-by, picked up my goodies from the porch, took a shot and made my getaway, loot in hand.   

Eze Taking a Shot

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Masking

In New York, we are required to wear masks whenever we go out in public.  MUST.   If you are MUSTing us, you MUST provide the masks or provide the means to get them. 

We can't purchase masks from any place.  I ordered second rate, more than likely fifth rate, masks from Walmart and Google, which have been in transit since April 1st.  I contacted Walmart to cancel and am still trying to find a way to cancel my Google order.  (Cancelling on Google is enough material for its own chronicle). There are no masks.  Anywhere.  Nowhere.  Why take my money and make promises you can't keep?

So sew your own.  Who says I can sew?  The truth is I can't. Find someone to make them for you.  I have, but they need supplies - fabric, liners, elastic, thread and more.  The fabric stores are closed. Open them back up as essential business. 

Ok, so make your own.  All kinds of tutorials are out there.  Even the Surgeon General has his own video.  Use a t shirt and rubber bands, fold it here and fold it there.  Or wear scarves or bandanas.  It's not simple.  It's simplistic.  The rubber band is not going to hold up.  I may not have the means or the material to cut up.  I may not have scissors.  I may not own a bandana or scarf.  And I need more than one or two.

There is nothing in the videos about maintaining these masks.  How many people are washing their masks?  If we don't get sick from COVID-19, we may just get sick from whatever is blowing through unwashed, unsanitary masks.

Did you know you should line your masks for additional protection?  There is a video out there that shows how to do it with a panty liner.  At the end of the video, a Jamaican man is interposed saying, "Dat nah happ'n."  Funny as heck!  Hey, but wait up!  Why not?  The panty liner is sanitary.  It is made for one of the most vulnerable parts of a woman's body.  It may just work.  So of course, I tried it out just for you.  It works and works well.  But I know.  It nah happ'n.

Some tips for you:

The right way to use masks (Joseph G. Allen,an assistant professor of exposure and assessment science, director of the Healthy Buildings Program at Harvard University’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health and co-author of “Healthy Buildings.”):

• Each person in your home should have a mask — absolutely no sharing.
• The mask should cover the bridge of your nose and cup your chin.
• There should be two straps, one that goes above your ear, and the other below
• How to put it on and take it off — what we call donning and doffing in my field (yes, those are the terms we use) — is also important. To put it on, use one hand to hold the outside of your homemade mask and put the top strap over your head, followed by the strap that goes below your ear. To take it off, don’t touch your mask, which could have infectious particles on it if you came into contact with someone infectious. Instead, take it off using the two straps.
• If you make one mask, wash it daily.
• If you make multiple masks, place the recently worn one in a bag and set it aside for five days (there shouldn’t be any virus left after that time). Wear a new one each day.
• Wash your hands when you’re done.

Rocking my designer masks.  See how I am matchy, matchy.  Jamaican fabric masks by Diplomacy Clothing (k.mille8573@gmail.com).  African fabric masks by Prisca-S-Art, wwww.priscas-art.com.



After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Social Distancing At Its Best

The air is fresh and crisp with the noon sun shining directly down but not burning because it is working in tandem with the cool wind. Milky clouds dot the azure sky in the horizon. The water's mini waves lap gently against jagged rocks. Couples sit and walk over boulders where I imagine was once a beach.  How beautiful everything is. The greenery’s almost lush and flowers make their entrances. The daffodils list their heads, their end is near. The birds chirp and flit from tree to tree, some with naked branches whose time to flourish has not yet come.  Some people wear masks but most don’t, staying yards away from each other. There are invisible lines of demarcation all around. Children play catch, running wild, yet not violate the boundaries.  There is a family picnicking. And life goes on as usual. Or you feel that way in this idyllic setting. 

Davenport Park, New Rochelle, 4/19/2020

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

What's Really Really Important

It's all about the hair, the Corona hair.  

I think most of us miss the hairdressers, barbers and nail technicians more than we do anything or anybody else.  What does your hair look like? Do you know what to do with it?  When was your last perm, press, blowout, cut, wash and set, weave or braid?  Are those braids falling out braid by braid from your scalp?  Do you just slap on a wig when you go out?  Are you wearing head wraps?  Men, do you have a fro, mustache and beard by now?  Ladies, what about your own beard and mustache!!!???  No waxing or threading, bring out the tweezer.  Are your eyebrows growing out of shape?  

And what about those nails?  Do you have a gel manicure and are wondering how to get it off?  What does your cuticle look like?  Whose hands feel like what the back of an alligator must feel like?  Who has lost the ability to use fingers to open cellphones?  We have washed away our fingerprints.  Is this the time to commit a crime and get away with it?  Get me toilet paper, disinfecting wipes, sanitizer and masks. 

Look at your grungy toes with polish 1/4 way up and 1/4 way down and listing to one side or the other, cracked heel, tough sole and flaky skin.  

We have lost our pretty.  But seriously, what does it matter???!!!  The ones we live with know us at our unprettiest and when we go outside, no one will recognize our masked face or gloved hands.  Think about all that money we will save by being ugly:  Gel manicure $45-$60 every 2-3 weeks.  Pedicure $30-$60.  Perm $65, braid $125-$250... 

When this is all over, will you be the first in line at the beauty salon or will you continue to save $$$?  Cha-ching.

1 week before Corona

During Corona

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Always Time For A Party

I attended a 3 1/2 hour Zoom slumber cocktail party with friends on April 17th.  It was ah-mazing!  Laughter, reminiscing, imbibing, wondering, planning for an unknown future.   I look forward to what will be our weekly get together.  A new normal.  I either do the best I can with what I have right now, right this minute or I wallow in what I miss or how I want things to get back to normal.  Try it. 

P.S.  Don't judge me.  That's a CVS bought bottle. I could not find an open liquor store.  Aren't they essential business??!!

  

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

Misplaced Anger

I received a voicemail from the testing site to tell me they want to set up an appointment for testing, 30 plus days after I first became ill. Thank Heavens I didn’t answer the phone because the poor, unsuspecting, innocent person on the other end of the phone would have borne the brunt of my anger. Where the $&@! were you when I was going through the throes of my illness? Where were you when I called, when my daughter called, when my cousin called? Where were you when I drove to the testing site on one of my worst days and you sent me away rejected, dejected and in tears. As much as I understand that they had to prioritize and test the ones most vulnerable, it still pains me. I just have to make sure I channel my anger to the right person. I lay ALL the blame at Trump’s feet. His ill/non preparedness caused us harm. All of us.




After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.

It's All About The Dough

So yesterday, I morbidly looked at the ways people may save on funeral costs at the real cost of us no longer reaching out and touching and hugging and comforting. Anyway, no more on that, but I want to continue to look at ways to save money during these corona times and beyond. I called my cable company and I lowered my bill by $82. I no longer have 200 plus channels, 180 of which I have never watched. I am a local news channel kind of person. As soon as the cable office reopens, I will return a cable box for an additional $8 in savings.  $90 per month x 12 = $1080 annual saving. I refuse to look back because if I multiply that $1080 with the # of years I had cable...

What tips do you have for saving money at this time? 

After surviving COVID-19, I started to write, giving birth to The Corona Chronicles, my daily thoughts and musings.  I find writing therapeutic. It's my personal journey through COVID-19.  It will give insight into the suffering, but also the goodness of people.  Heather's Dawning is made up of my first (Heather) and pet (Dawn) names. It's my awakening.  Covid-19 may have knocked me down, but it also awakened my creativity.