Ohio COVID-19 Journal Day 7

Not as much today….


The World Health Organization says the incubation period for COVID-19 is 1-14 days with symptoms appearing most commonly after five days. Today marks seven days at home for us and we are healthy. Still healthy!

Granted, my husband Ryun has been out a few times for one small church obligation, a well visit, and maybe two grocery shopping trips, sometimes with my oldest son. I know this resets their clock as it does ours, but still, seven days at home symptom free is something to cheer. We can do this.

Ryun talks to his 82-year-old mom every day but that’s really nothing new. They’ve been doing that for as long as I’ve known him, going on 20 years now. Maydel thinks this whole coronavirus thing is overblown. An avid Fox fan, her perspective is no big surprise. I don’t want a cavalier attitude to be her demise given how she’s the only grandparent my kids will ever know but I’m coming to terms with what might happen.

Granted, she’s in decent health and looks absolutely incredible for her age. My mother-in-law is relatively fit and mentally sharp with a couple of health incidents here and there but not really any chronic illness other than diabetes. She still lives in her ranch home and shovels her own Utah snow. She chased an intruder who entered through the dog door out of her house not that long ago, so she’s quite the trooper. She loves to socialize, eat out, and exercise at Curves but now she’s cut all of that out and it will take its toll. Still, so far so good.


One of my coworkers shared that we are among only 29% of Americans who are fortunate enough to work at home. Wow. We’ve been holding video conference calls for work and it’s been fun to see everyone in their tshirts, no make-up, and ponytails with kids coming in and out of the frame and dogs barking.

I love the LIFE in all of that. I also love that we work for a company that encourages us to know and care about each other’s lives outside of work, so it wasn’t a surprise to me at all to hear or see one coworker with her college-age daughter at home, another colleague with her twins under one year, and some others who have three or four kids at home.


One of my coworkers – who shall remain nameless – lamented the pace by which they are blowing through their toilet paper stash, so we spent a little time brainstorming new strategies. Maybe each person is allocated a roll whereby they Sharpie their initials on the edge. No more rolls are stocked in the bathroom. If you gotta go, you check in with mom first with your allocated roll and that might be incentive for you to be thrifty, shall we say.

I told my coworker that all sorts of ingenious life hacks might come of our situation. We may be forced to create a makeshift bidet with a turkey baster and otherwise use washcloths. Of course, you’d need to Sharpie the ball on the baster to clearly label its new purpose. Talk about crossing the Rubicon….

I know. I’ve ruined turkey basters for you. I apologize to all the kitchen wizards out there.


Now that a full week has gone by, I am finally itching to get outside to do something other than take the pupster out for potty patrol. But in the meantime, I’m playing classical and spa music in the home office when I don’t otherwise have conference calls and it’s kinda nice.

However, I check CNN.com throughout the day and sometimes watch videos to catch up on the news. If I hear Johnny Carson say, “sis-boom-bah” one more time before a video plays…grrr.

Is it just me or do you watch TV shows where people are congregating, shaking hands and hugging and you want to shout at the TV, “Don’t do it!!!”? I mean, Progressive came out with the “perfect high five” commercial and I want smear sanitizer on the TV. Maybe they pulled that one off the air. Smart move.


Image by Tumisu from Pixabay

Ohio COVID-19 Journal Day 4

That’s a wearable panda head on the “desk”. Random stuff like that is all over our house.

The home office is set up. I holed myself up in the basement away from the official office inside our home because 1) the kids are less likely to come talk to me here (I said less likely…believe me they have visited more than a few times already today!), and 2) the computer in the kitchen literally ran out of memory the day the WHO declared a pandemic so that leaves the iMac in the office available for the kids to use. I don’t think I’ll be making it to the Apple store anytime soon to remedy the iMac problem.

I bought myself a new barstool from Target, something I had been meaning to do for a while now. I really meant to buy a few of them for this long bar in our basement, part of a bigger effort to spruce up the downstairs after we replaced the carpet but I have been really slow to getting to it. And wouldn’t you know, the seat on this thing isn’t all that comfortable. I may need to come up with another solution here. I mean, I’ve got a lot of cushion on my own tush but sitting on this chair long term isn’t going to cut it.

It was otherwise a decently productive day. I was able to concentrate a bit more than last Friday when, seriously, a 1000 thoughts of every single kind were swirling in my head.

It sounds like we social distancing we are asked to do will last about eight weeks or so, until mid-May, and the tail end of the “curve” could hit in July or August if I’m to believe #45.

I tend to dismiss whatever words come out of the individual who currently occupies the White House. You may have discovered from earlier posts or simply knowing me that I’m not a fan of his before or certainly since this latest crisis. However I won’t dwell on him.


High praise is due to Governor Mike DeWine and his Director of the Ohio Department of Health, Dr. Amy Acton. Believe me, until about four years ago, I wouldn’t call myself political at all. The 2016 election changed that, and now I find myself in the unprecedented position of being more vocal than my husband, the political junkie. I can’t say that I had a lot of gripes with DeWine other than he’s Republican and I tend to vote/lean Democrat – and if I did have them, I am not recalling them at the moment – but he and his team are handling this whole event so very well, down to how he signals actions that he might take in a couple of days before he officially takes action such as closing the day care facilities in the state.

I like that he gets that their decisions will result in saved lives. I like that he is basing his decisions on science, and that he actually listens to the experts. And Acton? She explains things thoroughly, calmly, clearly, with analogies like I tend to do at work. It makes me smile to see Acton in action. (Yes, I went there. I said it!) I hope she is elevated to a role on a national level as we need her.

Part of me is a tiny bit wigged out that she is likely my age and a grandmother, but I won’t dwell on that for the moment. Bigger picture….looking at the bigger picture.


While I worked, the rest of the family did an initial wipe down and sanitizing of surfaces – doorknobs, light switches, handles, pulls, banisters, keyboards, phones, keys, mice, appliances, remotes. The kids are going to understand what is entailed in official spring cleaning at Louie Lodge before it’s all said and done.

If our state officials think that 40% of us Ohioans will get this virus, that means two of the five of us will. Or at the worst end of the statistics, 70% of us will get it, which means possibly four of the five of us. Maybe all of us. Maybe none of us. I explained that to two of our kids today. I also explained that if any one of us ends up hospitalized, chances are good that the rest of us won’t be able to visit, and if it’s one of them, they will need to be brave while there and do what the doctors and nurses say. I warned them they could be given a mask or maybe even a tube to help them breathe. What do you do? Do you tell them or not? I’m worried I won’t have time to explain that to them before they are rushed away. If they get rushed to the hospital, it’s because they can’t breathe, and that’s not the time for them to hear or understand what to expect. I feel like I should warn them. But my youngest is nine, and no lie, he was a bit wigged out. I don’t have time to read how to explain this to kids. I’m doing what I feel is right for our kids, knowing we know about their emotional maturity and intellect to handle these sorts of things.


God, I hate this, but we’ve always tried our best to have age appropriate talks with our kids. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be having THIS conversation, though.

Until next time…

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