In the absence of the usual sports entertainment during the pandemic, I think I will create a new competition. I’m calling it The Misery Cup. I will compete for the trophy, because I believe I am a shoo-in for the win. But I don’t want to discourage anyone from entering the contest. Judges have a rubric so they may objectively assess your misery. Competitors! Prepare your stories. The categories are:
- Level of Panic
- Lack of Preparation
- Scarcity at Local Markets
- Children
- Elderly Parents
- Spouse Working from Home.
I am so eager to share, because to be perfectly honest, I need your sympathy and pity. Ready?
Two days after my son Mark learned he would have to move out of his college dormitory all by himself and cut short his freshman year, Trump announced a European travel ban with no immediate clarification that Americans would be exempt. This threw European airports into pandemonium, freaked out parents of students studying abroad and caused the School for International Training to cancel my son’s program in Geneva, Switzerland. I spent two hours on the phone with United Airlines figuring out why his return flight reservation was cancelled and asking could I please get him home for less than $900 before they closed the airports. The remarkably calm United agent helped me out, and Thomas did get home, passing the Center for Disease Control’s health screening with flying colors at Newark Airport, only to be felled by a fever and body aches two days later and learning a friend on his study abroad program had tested positive. He immediately went into isolation, while only I served him meals in gloves and a mask, and learning there would be no possibility of testing him because he wasn’t quite sick enough, which meant we all had to assume he was infected with coronavirus. This put the rest of us into quarantine for two weeks and Thomas into isolation in his room (!) for two weeks and means I cannot visit my 80 year old parents who are having to make daily visits to the oncology clinic for my dad’s chemotherapy and radiation. My daughter’s roommate in Philadelphia said she couldn’t see her boyfriend anymore for fear of the infection, which made Caroline cry, which made me cry, but then her boyfriend’s parents saved the day and invited her and Ben to their home in northwestern New Jersey. That made my husband relax which is good because he is a risk analyst in a bond firm and his bosses are a little curious why they weren’t better situated to survive the pandemic, and so understandably he is stressed out which causes him to pound on the piano keys a little louder than normal. And now instead of sitting around reading books, which I really love to do, he has me planting a victory garden for the apocalypse.
Winner!
Except what really is winning? Do I really want to be the most miserable? That may not be the best strategy for surviving this crisis emotionally intact. I doubt it is therapeutic for any of us to try and outdo each other on how bad we have it. Not to mention the fact that truly being the most miserable would mean somebody I love (or me!) is severely ill. Also, I might add, I do not work in the medical field or grocery and restaurant industry, and I have the luxury of living in my house conveniently separated from other people while my husband works at home to make a comfortable living and provide us outstanding health insurance.
Everyone has a story to tell, and sharing our stories is a very important survival instinct. We can commiserate and laugh and cry with each other over our fears, frustrations and triumphs. When I listen carefully to you, I am forced out of my own despair and compelled to look toward others and see what I can do to help.
I have changed my mind.
In the absence of our usual sports entertainment, I think I will create a new competition. I am calling it the Generosity of Spirit Cup. The categories will be:
- Kindness
- Calmly Delivered Medical Advice
- Hospitality
- Altruism at the Risk of Illness
I nominate for this award Doctor Laura Evans and the Aetna nurse whose name I don’t know for advice on helping Thomas; Ben, Matt and Sue Skalla for taking care of Caroline; Jennifer Denham and Julie Acquafresca for cooking and shopping for my parents. I want to be nominated too, so when I get out of quarantine, I will ask one question: What can I do to help you?