September 2020 – Me and the Doods.com

Pandemic Brain

If this post seems scattered, it’s because I have pandemic brain. Yes, pandemic brain. It’s a thing.

ELBEE No idea how it happened but I think I have it too.

I was talking to a friend recently and said that I couldn’t remember whether or not I’d sent her a certain email or even what I was supposed to include in it. I blamed it on pandemic brain. Without hesitation she said, “I have it too.”

The more I thought about it and the more people I talked to, I realized that lots of us have it. Forgetfulness is only one small part. There may be anxiety with a dash of depression thrown in. We feel like we look pretty good without makeup. We think that matching masks make our outfits. Insomnia is a given.

GUS & STANLEY We haven’t slept a full night in months. We’re exhausted.

It all makes perfect sense. We’re living in a Groundhog Day world where each day is a repeat of the trials and tribulations of the one before. Watching the news is not for the faint-hearted.

There’s no such thing as just running into the market. We, well some of us, only put on cute outfits and makeup to sit in front of a computer and socialize. We go to virtual luncheons where we bring our own food.

On a positive note, people are finding all sorts of coping mechanisms. Gardening, for example, has become very popular. The husband has planted so many succulents in the yard that he’s now eyeing the neighbors’ yards for more space.

He’s also being very careful. When he comes home from work, he leaves his hospital scrubs in the garage and walks into the house in a very nice suit jacket, underwear, shoes and socks.

ELBEE Where is a photo when we need one?

GUS & STANLEY We wish we could unsee it.

Speaking of photos, lots of people are taking the opportunity to go through old files. A dear friend whose husband was my bodybuilding partner in crime, recently dug this one up. Pandemic brain is making me share.

ELBEE This has nothing to do with pandemic brain.

Many are doing yoga and meditation. Some have turned to sewing, quilting and crafting. Stanley is doing needlepoint.

Others have become gourmet chefs.

To be honest, I fall asleep when I meditate and have become the queen of takeout. My coping mechanisms, in no particular order, are family and friends, the dogs, exercise, the mountains and Hallmark movies.

Lately, I find myself looking for the positive when I’m walking with Gus and Stanley. I am not a fan of graffiti, but understood why someone had written this message to Kobe on the anniversary of his death.

I was hiking by a small sign reminding people of park hours, when I happened to glance at the back. Someone had chalked in, “Be kind.” Those simple words brought unexpected tears to my eyes. More than ever, in this time of chaos and loss, we need to be kind.

An Inconvenient Necessity

For me, like for so many others, coping with the normal day to day activities is difficult enough during this pandemic. Then, on top of it all, a necessary inconvenience popped up to make it even more challenging. My driver license was going to expire! They gave me an automatic extension, but it wasn’t going to last forever.

You may be thinking, no big deal, just do it on line. The problem is that when you’re a person of a certain age, you have to make a guest appearance at the DMV, pandemic or no pandemic.

ELBEE Guest appearance?

Realizing there could be a written test, I got hold of the California Driver Handbook and glanced through it.

GUS & STANLEY Glanced through it? She almost forgot to feed us for two days.

ELBEE Her grandson Ryan is getting his license soon and she tried to get him to form a study group.

I made an appointment to renew my license which fortunately put me in a much shorter line when I arrived at the DMV office. A security guard was doing his best to keep things light as he was socially distancing everyone.

We were all in masks, so he’d ask the “guy in the Dodger hat” to move left or the “woman in the pony tail” to step back. All of a sudden, glancing at me, he started to tell someone to stand behind the “older,” and was about to say “woman,” caught himself and said “attractive blonde.”

ELBEE Is that a bad news/good news story.

Once inside, things went smoothly. I was directed from station to station, filling out the necessary paperwork. Still nervous about the written test, I got the news that made my day. Due to all of the temporary DMV closures that had taken place, they weren’t giving the test.

I also picked up some helpful information. I was getting my real ID too and had brought tons of paperwork to prove who I was and where I lived. The woman behind the counter looked at my cable TV bill, leaned in and whispered, “you’re paying way too much.”

There was one more major hurdle before I was home free, the dreaded photo. Not only was it years since I’d had my license picture taken but I’d been wearing a mask all morning. Need I say more.

I was going to ask if they provided hair and makeup but judging by the attitude of the person with the camera, I didn’t think that was going to cut it. I gave it my best shot, left with my temporary license in hand and tried to forget about it.

Problem is, the new license with the new photo arrived in the mail a week later. It now identifies me and I have to live with it. Fortunately, I don’t get carded very often.

ELBEE Wonder if she knows it’s illegal to try and superimpose her old photo on her new license?

How Are You?

In the past, “How are you?” was something that we’d ask almost automatically not expecting much more of an answer than “Fine, thanks.”

ELBEE I believe that’s called a rhetorical question.

Today with COVID-19, the wildfires and myriad other catastrophes, it’s a loaded question. Sometimes it’s met with an eye roll. Often we hear, “As well as can be expected.” Other times it opens the flood gates.

ELBEE We just sniff. It’s so much more direct.

There is more of a tendency to open up and start talking. We’re all reaching out for comfort. We’re actually listening to each other.

The other morning, before the smoke took over, I was in the mountains. They may be browned out but they’re still beautiful and restorative. I was heading up a steep narrow trail when I met a young man coming down. His hair was wrapped around the top of his head in an incredible braid. Normally, after a murmured, ” Hi, how are you. I love your hair,” we would have continued walking.

Instead, we got into a discussion about how the mountains were our sanctuary, how we were up there to recharge so that we could cope. The man was from the Philippines and was off work at the moment because of the virus. The more we chatted, the more I found that, as different as we were on the surface, we had many of the same concerns.

At home, Gus and Stanley, without saying a word, seem to be asking “How are you?” It’s become almost a full time job for them. They’ll watch me and the husband as if looking for a sign that we need some extra dog attention.

GUS & STANLEY We’re therapy dogs. That’s what we do.

They don’t wait for us to tell them how we’re feeling. They just sense when they’re needed. Their intuition is remarkable.

If I have a headache from the poor air quality, Stanley will suddenly be glued to my side. If there’s something especially disturbing on the news, Gus will be right there tapping me with his paw to draw my attention to him. If the husband comes home from work worn out, they’ll sit quietly next to him.

Maybe it’s because of all of their Zoom visits with the hospital, Stanley in particular seems to feel it’s his responsibility to be involved in any computer visits that I do. As soon as he sees me face timing with the youngest daughter and the grandkids, there he is, his big head covering the screen. At least he makes us laugh.

Today as I sit on the bed with my laptop, trying to write something positive on a really dreary smoky day, the dogs are curled up with me. Their silent support is priceless.

A Shout Out to UCLA

Someone recently shared the photo on the left with me. Since it made me laugh I wanted to pass it along. Laughter is in such short supply right now. And did you actually think I could let this go by without picking up Stanley, which, by the way, was a little more difficult than bench pressing him.

CHARLEY That’s two weeks in a row she’s started her post with a poop joke. I’m concerned.

On a positive note, I want to give a shout out to everyone at UCLA Medical Center. They have gradually found ways to bring the dog presence back into the hospital.

Little did I know that when I brought Gus to UCLA on March 11th for his Pet Partners testing, it would be our last time there for several months. Shortly after, as COVID-19 took over, the dog visits were stopped. Sadly, it was just when they were needed the most,

Missing our visits and frustrated that we couldn’t help, I was delighted when we were asked to send in photos or videos of the dogs thanking nurses and then other hospital staff on the front lines. These signs are truly from the heart.

Virtual visits came next. As I’ve shared, I really wanted to be a part of them but was totally overwhelmed by the technology. I was so excited when I successfully downloaded (or is it uploaded) Zoom.

ELBEE Oy!

Since the initial visits, the PAC dogs and Blue Moon, the miniature horse, have developed a huge virtual presence in the hospital. They’ve visited with patients, staff, families and students. Whenever there’s a request, the teams show up. Their cardboard cutouts are now part of the decor.

Last week, right before our “meeting” with the kids in the neuropsych units followed by a special patient request, I had technical difficulties. I’ve had them before

ELBEE Many times

but this was major. My router had died. I had no internet connection. It wasn’t a quick fix so I had to cancel at the last minute. There was a part of me that felt terrible about letting everyone down.

Then I realized that in a selfish way, I was going to miss the visits for myself. It made me think of a quote that I saw recently. “Life is better when you are happy. Life is best when other people are happy because of you.”

I would change the word “you” to “dogs.” I couldn’t do any of this without Gus and Stanley. Their antics are what entertain. They see the laptop on the floor and know it’s their time to shine. When a sick child watches wide-eyed as Gus dances or Stanley spins, that moment is purely about their connection with the dogs. That moment is a priceless gift.