Preparing for a Zoom meeting to discuss church reopening, I happened upon a webinar discussing the COVID-19 and the future of singing. The title turned out to be slightly deceptive as the highly-qualified participants discussed in detail the transmission of viruses, ventilation, and implications for gatherings of any kind. I highly recommend it, but please follow it with a humorous video because the news was not good.
This week I await a Dilation and Curettage (D&C) with biopsy which had been postponed from March. At this point it is an inconvenience, and I anticipate only discomfort. The procedure required a COVID-19 swab test yesterday, not a pleasant experience for someone with a sensitive nose. I recall patients who complained when I conducted nasal endoscopy swallowing and voice tests; I totally understand and commend those who could tolerate it. Meanwhile I continue limping around on a sore knee awaiting surgery in another 10 days.
Then what? I have been busy reading, Zooming, producing music, and writing. What fun it was to conduct a video piano lesson today with friends in Italy! (Highlight: when encouraged to tell me something about high and low notes, the older boy went into a very accurate description of sound waves.)
But between those activities, I long for movement, the movement that we usually take for granted. I look forward to completing light housework without thought, because when I think about it, I don’t want to do it. The ability to take a walk, to drive to the forest preserves and hike, to do yoga. Yes, I will be able to pursue those activities when my knee is healed. Like so many people, though, I am at a point in self-quarantine when the near future is beginning to look bleak for movement into society, into community.
Trying to put this isolation in perspective, I remind myself that millions of people have been through worse experiences and many are suffering dreadful circumstances at this time. Like a painful hangnail, though, although it isn’t the worst pain, it is still annoying.