Tuesday, March 31, 2020

    The pain in my tush seems to be getting worse.  It particularly hurts as I roll into bed from a sitting position. I'm getting worried. The only good note is that my hand, which I also hurt when I fell, also hurts more.  It may be part of the healing process, but it has been six days now. That had to be some wallop of a bruise.

    Being concerned that there might have been a break, I decided I would use a sure-fire medical diagnostic procedure I learned to determine if there is a broken bone- hold a vibrating object in the area of the bone.  An electronic massager would work.  I don't have one, or at least I have no idea where it is.  I use the back of my electric toothbrush, not the brush side.  Good news! Nothing hurt.  It even felt good.  The toothbrush was dunked in alcohol shortly after, just to be on the safe side.

    On my walk, I thought to be cautious and not go too far.  In the past, if my body gave out, I could get a ride home. Not now. No one is going to pick someone up and violate the social distancing rule. I was somewhat more aware of that area of my body, but it was doable.  I made it both up and down the hill without incident. It's sitting that is getting worse.

    Dorothy called. She told me that this confinement may extend through August. She didn't know if she could handle that. She said she feels worse being confined during the summer than in the winter. Air conditioning is a must in Central Jersey; it is very humid.  We also talked about the information you can get from the internet. I had asked August if he knew what to do with extra, unneeded UBS cords. I finally looked it up. Give them to Goodwill. People come to buy them when they lose theirs and, and some people strip them for their copper. A light bulb went off in Dorothy's head. She could use the wire in the face masks she's making.  

    Then I took a nap. I have no idea why I am so tired. I took a long nap yesterday, went to bed at a reasonable hour, and then couldn't sleep. I stayed up to finish Louise Penny's "A Better Man." I didn't enjoy this book as much as I had the others. I figured out very early that the man they were sure did it didn't. They had identified him too soon; it was obviously a red herring. I can't remember if I suspected the real murderer, but it wasn't a total surprise.  I did fall asleep and then got up at 6 am.

    I slept most of the day.  I was exhausted. I have no reason to be so; this is a concern. It could be depression, but it doesn't feel that way.  It could be that I'm in an intense healing phase from the fall, or it could be that I'm fighting off something impressive. We'll see, won't we?

    I did manage to update the online blog and post two entries for the emailed log. I also moved a small box with some stuff for Habitat for Humanity from the kitchen to the spot in the living room where I am storing stuff to go. 

 

 

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Musings:

 

    While Mike was in the hospital, knocked out with painkillers and kept alive by machines, some people visited him expressing sadness at his loss of dignity.  I protested. As far as I was concerned, there was no condition Mike could be in that would cause him to lose his dignity. 

    Interestingly, these people were heavily invested in the Catholic Church. Do they believe that Christ lost his dignity on the cross? It begs the question: what makes for dignity?

    I think the people who feel that we have dignity when we have control, at least over our body functions.  Mike had lost all control over his body.  

    Victor Frankel maintained his dignity in the concentration camps by keeping his humanity despite his guards' efforts to extinguish it.  How did he do that? He did it by maintaining his concern for others.  Our ability to care for others makes us worthy members of a community.  For some, that is the definition of dignity.  

    I know that Mike always maintained his concern for me. He struggled to live even when he didn't want to.  When he heard his son and his wife talking, saying how well that I was doing, he was willing to surrender to the inevitable.  If caring for others is a definition of dignity, Mike never lost his.  

Monday, March 30, 2020

    I sensed Mike in the bed whenever Elsa moved or made a noise. I’m not complaining. I have no objection to being downright delusional.    

    I woke up after 9 this morning. I didn’t go to bed that late and I took a nap in the afternoon.  Everything is slowing down because of the required shelter in place. When I spoke to Sandor yesterday, he said that he and Meaali’inani were saying how little they were getting done.  If they completed one chore a day, that was good. My one task yesterday was finally putting the freshly washed blankets sitting on the dining room table for about a month into a storage bag and placing the bag into the linen closet. Does that count as two chores? Actually, I did more than that when you count my having bathed Elsa.

    I fed Elsa before I set out on my walk.  I concentrated on doing my ‘salsa’ walk.  That engages my gluts and abdominals. It means a shorter step.  What’s more important the number of steps (repetitions) or the number of miles? I vote for the number of repetitions since that’s what I do well at. 

    My bum and my hand still feel bruised.  I had some discomfort in my left leg as I slept last night. Did the fall act as an epidural, knocking some sense out of an injured nerve?  If that’s the case, I may be back to square one in time. ‘    

    As I started my walk, I ran into Ron, my neighbor down the street.  He was heading out with full hiking gear.  He had his walking sticks and a loaded backpack.  He was heading up as high as he can go on our mountain, Hualalai.  He said he couldn’t make it to the top because fences were blocking his way.  In Germany, all property owners have to provide hiking roads through their property.  Lovely. 

    Ron talked about his hiking plans. He said he and his friends had planned the Grand Canyon for April.  He understandably was skeptical about that happening.  I proposed that they might sterilize the canyon. No response on Ron’s part.  Oh, dear. I’m back to having no one finding me funny.  Of course, I did deliver the line with a straight face, but the idea was so absurd, either something was terribly wrong with me -or I meant it to be funny. I know I’m old, but do you register me as senile?

    Last night I applied ‘makes no claims, (Intrasound) to the wounds on Elsa’s back.  I thought she was licking the area last night.  But it seems not. The site is stiff with the dried gel. She may not be licking because the gel tastes terrible. Great! I am hoping that this will give the area time to heal.  When I washed her yesterday, I noticed a place where she had licked right through the skin. I thought I would have to get a collar for her. Yvette might have one that would fit her.  Izzy wore one while she was recovering from her eye surgery.

    Despite having slept late this morning, I was quickly exhausted and took a lovely long, deep nap.  Napping provides some of the sweetest sleep. I read more of the Gamache book between bouts of sleep.  It’s okay but not as satisfying as Brook’s book, “Social Animals. “I love his writing. He zigs zags back and forth between narrative writing and expository. They illuminate each other.

    Yesterday, I remembered when I spontaneously created stories for Karin, my niece, when she was three or four.  I remember doing spontaneous storytelling at a workshop and someone coming up and asking me how it did that.  It is the same process I taught that third-grader who was having trouble writing. Create an image and describe it; voila, a story.  I allow a story to generate.  There was one point in the development where I got stuck, or instead, the action got stuck.  My character was just standing there doing nothing. Since I was telling a story to an audience in my mind, I found myself filling in the time with details- until there was a change in the scene.  This is all right-brain thinking, although I think some people call this not thinking.   I consider the work of both sides of my brain ‘thinking.’ The right brain generates thought in visual images, the left in words, and uses logic more.  I don’t understand what generates thought on the part of the right brain, but who cares.  It’s a delight to work with.

    Ronen made some changes to his site. He asked me to check if it looked different.  I didn’t see any.  It may just be the product is displayed.  It didn’t look like much, but I was shocked when I saw what the bags looked like.  I think his site is understandable to professional buyers for restaurants and hotels, but not to putzes like me and many of my contacts. 

Saturday, March 29, 2020

     I got up at 8 am and walked up to my Easter Island statues.  I still dare not go further.  When I got home, I did some work on the blog.  I had made arrangements with Ronen to pick up Adam's delivery bring it over to him.  Adam was on quarantine because his mom, Judy, was diagnosed with the virus. 

    Ronen came out with two large bags, the length of his legs. Wow!  I wasn't expecting that. His display made it look like a take-out-sized amount. It seemed too heavy for me to carry.  He walked me over to Adam's, a mere two driveways down the street.  Adam was thrilled with what he got. Thrilled.

    Judy and I had both looked at the site and thought it was overpriced. Adam had worked in a restaurant and understood what the 'iofarms were offering.  Judy and I did not.

    I stopped for a minute to speak to Adam- at a safe distance. Then I headed back home.  I stopped at the stand where Ronen, and his wife, Elizabeth, were sitting.  I told them that their site did not accurately represent the quantity of food they provided. I suggested that he take a picture of himself with full bags for the $20, $40, and $ 60' box.' 

    They told me that they wanted to put together a 'Betty box' with precisely what I wanted. I told them I don't eat a lot.  It would probably all be too much for me. They said for me to tell them exactly what I wanted and when I wanted it.  I was not to worry about having too much and having it go bad on me. They told me they were used to moving 150 lbs. of lettuce a week.  I started crying. I hadn't realized how much I was worried about getting vegetables, forget even fresh ones.  This act of kindness means so much to me. 

    I had an invitation to join Sam's virtual first birthday party on the line.  I set the alarm, so I didn't forget.  In preparation, I showered so I didn't look homeless or mentally ill.  I also washed Elsa, whose eczema is full-blown. I treated her with a medicinal soap that I have to leave on for at least 5 minutes.  I was dressed and ready for the party.

    I tried to sign in before my hosts were ready.  It took a while to get all the grandparents online. In the meantime, I got to look at Sam's empty highchair.  I read a little while I waited. I tried to be subtle about it.  I only found out afterward that my image never appeared while my audio did work. 

    We all sang together. Sam had his first piece of cake. He loved it and cried for more. David, Sam's dad, orchestrated a few rounds of peek-a-boo. All of us online covered our eyes, and removed them, and cried," Peek-a-boo," on David's count.  This was something else that delighted Sam.

    Friends dropped out when it came time to open presents.  Dorothy, my sister, and Sam’s grandmother had made cloth books.  One was just a fun one with shapes, but the other was amazing.  She made a picture book of Sam right after he was born with his parents, four grandparents, and some additional shots of Sam on his trip to Australia.  Karin, his mom, got teary, saying it was amazing. 

    His other grandparents bought him a rocking horse and a slide. It took a few attempts, but Sam figured out how to get on and off the horse himself and made progress on getting that horse to rock back and forth before the end of the party.  

    He didn't quite get the slide.  He wanted to walk up the slide instead of climbing the ladder in the back. Karin picked him up each time and helped him slide down it. He also enjoyed crawling under the slide. Nancy, David's mother, said David had loved the slide when he was a child.

    David's brother, Alex, is a doctor in NYC. He said he was currently involved in converting operating rooms into ICU units to accommodate virus patients.  I can't remember the exact number of rooms involved, but I am pretty sure it was over 50, if not close to or over 100.  What I do know, I was surprised by how many operating rooms there could be in a hospital.  Alex is at the hub of the virus right now. We all wished him well.

    I took a nap and read some of A Better Man by Louise Penny.

    Dorothy called and told me she is making face masks. As in all war efforts, women start sewing and knitting to help out.

    I managed to do one chore.  I put the blankets away that have been sitting on my dining room table for several weeks, washed and waiting for attention. Yay! I completed a chore.       

    I watched the episodes of Schitt's Creek that were available.  While I'm committed to finishing the series, I probably wouldn't if it was continued because the mannerisms of many of the characters are wearing on my nerves. 

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Musings:

 

    I've already mentioned that I'm reading Brooks's The Social Animal.  I love the way the man writes. There is so much joy. I don't agree with everything he has to say, especially with some of his political points of view, but I always love how he presents his ideas.

    In the chapter on self-control, I came across some theories of what strategies people use to assert self-control.  He said different ideas have dominated in different periods of history.  In the Victorian period, it was step #3, will power. The inner self was like a torrent of water that had to be constrained. He calls it the 'hydraulic' approach to self-control.

    Step # 2 is the decision-making process. It assumes you can reason with a person and get them to see their greatest benefit. Once they see what is best for them, it will follow as day follows the night, their behavior will change.

    Sept #1 is dependent on our perception of the situation.  Perception always proceeds steps # 1 and #2. People's perceptions of the same situation differ; different things trigger people in different ways. 

    As I work in schools, I find that most adults assume the decision-making approach with kids. They even talk about 'making good choices." It is always assumed that the teacher knows what a good choice should be. This approach drives me nuts. I have always thought that this was an ineffective strategy. Brooks says, "The evidence suggests that reason and will are like muscles and not particularly powerful muscles." p. 152. That certainly supports my experience. I have never been able to reason myself into action. However, I also believe that if reason doesn't support a change of behavior, change is impossible. The decision-making step is necessary but insufficient to promote change.

     Also, I find that people use moralizing and condescending or pleading tones when they use the decision-making approach. Here's the problem; sometimes children consider 'bad' behavior best for them.  When the rational decision approach is used with 'that tone of voice,' there can be no discussion.  The teacher can't get to know the child and what their priorities are and why. Telling anyone that pursuing the speaker's preferences is the only reasonable or intelligent thing to do is a no-win situation.  While it might produce temporary changes, permanent changes do not follow. Whenever this approach has been used on me, I knew that person had no respect for me or my point of view.  Who is going to follow the advice of someone who doesn't respect you? All they want to do is remold me in their 'own' image or for their own convenience. For me, that privilege of being molded in someone else's image belongs to God alone.  My parents had the right to install a cultural framework, but that is it. 

    If you haven't figured it out already, I don't like how the decision-making model is applied. (I repeat, a person must decide to change before change is possible, but it is not enough.) Teachers marvel at my work with children. Guess what! The key to my success starts with my respecting their right to control their own destinies.  When I work with a child whose behavior causes problems for the teachers and for themselves, my first question is: does this behavior make you happy, or do you want to change? If the student, or any person, says they like how their lives are going, my hands may be tied unless I can address their particular need. Lecturing them is not a good idea. If they say they don't want to change, I can ask, "Why do you like what you get from this behavior? If the kid gives me that sly smile, I know what they get is the ability to upset people.  Power.  I can follow this up with some other questions. 

    I recently worked with a boy whose behavior verged on the bizarre, standing on his desk, making odd sounds, being generally disruptive.  When I asked him how he would feel if he didn't behave that way, he said invisible.  My solution was to help him recognize that the teacher and his classmates were aware of him even when he was quiet.  How did I do that?  I asked him if he was aware when one of the students in the class was absent, even if they were usually quiet. I helped him see that everyone impacted the group, and he was no exception.  Notice this was step #1; I helped him change his perception.  That was the starting point. He still needed help dealing with his habitual emotional responses to situations.  It took a few weeks, but he changed and became more comfortable being one of the many. Whenever I ask these questions, I have to be open to the person's answer; I can't pose the question rhetorically, asking the question in such a way as to tell the student the 'correct' answer.   I know there is nothing I can do to change someone unless they want to. 

    I make it clear to the student that I have little investment in their decision.  Their behavior will not be my problem because, one way or another, they won't be part of my life.  I am saying they should change because I really believe it would be best for them. I don't push students. I have had to wash my hands of only a few students I have ever worked with. They were firmly committed to their 'dysfunctional' behavior by any conventional standards. No one can make another person change if they don't want to.   All we can do is help people achieve their goals. Then the question is how to help them.  

    As much as we can't expect people to change if they don't think it would be to their benefit to do so, we also can't expect people to change because they agree it would be best for them or because they want to. Asking young children to use Step #3, overriding some impulse is asking the impossible. The prefrontal lobes that help us use this approach are not fully developed until we are in our mid-twenties. While it is possible, it takes a profound inner change in a child to force themselves to control negative behavior that serves a function in their lives.

    I have had to experience some deep change before I can push myself to make those changes.  The mountain has to be reduced to a molehill before I could push myself up and over to the new world.

    Step# 1 involves changing one's perception.  I have used that to help me make behavioral changes on something I wasn't overly invested in.  When I was in my twenties and found that my sweet tooth was impacting my weight, I changed my perception of sweets.  I found them too much, either too fatty, as in ice cream, or chocolate cookies, or sickly sweet.  That worked for me. I felt disgusted when presented with those foods and pushed them aside.

    But there are deep reasons for behavior that is not so easily accessible through steps 1-3.  I have a deeply held belief that feelings anchored in the mind/body have to be addressed for a successful, long-lasting change to occur that feels comfortable for the person. I'm not quite sure where this additional approach or step comes in the sequence. It can come before making a perceptional change or after. However, it has to go after decision-making and before the hydraulic approach of step #3 when we overwhelm our impulses' inner wellspring. The method of dealing with one's deeper feelings frees us from always having to fight some internal drive, which will undermine our resolve. It soothes that beast within us, quiets it, so we aren't required to exercise a teeth-grinding exhibition of will.

    The source of those impulses which drive behavior can be quieted.  There are several ways to approach these changes that I know of.  I didn't find conventional therapy to be beneficial. Traditional therapy, as I experienced it for most of my life, emphasized the decision-making model. I am working with a life-coach now who is on the same page I am. What a delight!

    I did find that mindfulness meditation helped a great deal. The idea behind it is to sit with sensations and stay calm.  Sitting quietly and observing without either craving or aversion stills that impulse surge. It teaches us to keep calm in the face of distressing moments. The distressed response can be quieted over time, and when it is, behavior changes. That response quiets through this approach because we can have those feelings and realize that we are just fine and don't need that behavioral response. I compare those responses to the fierce barking of my dog when someone comes to the door.  I understand that dog is acting to protect my home and me.  I thank the dog; I love the dog for its impulse.  I say thank you, but this response is unnecessary now. I know that the person approaching the house is not a danger to me, you, or the house. All's good. You can let go. So many of our responses come from accumulated negative reactions we have experienced that finally flood us.  It is possible to get to the point where you're not constantly battling your inner impulses.

    Trauma-based therapy is also helpful.  Most of our negative behavior is caused by some trauma, be it writ large or small.  Trauma has so many causes.  It can be a small moment of embarrassment that was life-changing.  It can be a moment when you discover that you are different from the rest of the people in your group. It can be a moment when you see your knowledge or skill level is inadequate for the situation. You may have to face the contempt of a group of people without the support of your own group.  It could be when your life was threatened. It could be when you saw your buddy killed in front of you and could nothing to help him or her. Or it could be when you ran into a tiger while you were walking in the woods one day and barely escaped with your life.  There are so many opportunities for trauma in life. In modern life, we still experience these shocks, but there are so few ways to 'shake them off.' Primitive life afforded those services to the members of their group.  They were built into the rituals of daily life. It was understood that life filled with 'the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." 

Saturday, March 28, 2020

    I got up right before my alarm went off at 7 am. I walked up to the second fire hydrant, focusing on the mechanics of my walk rather than my speed.  When I have developed strength in my left leg while sticking strictly to the correct form, I will add speed.

    Today was the first day of Ronen's farm stand, starting at 9 am.  I did my morning routine, my oil rinse, and drank my two cups of water. I also managed to meditate for half an hour. Whenever I sit for that thirty minutes, I feel the need to check after exactly twenty minutes with ten minutes left.  I have no idea why.

    I looked through the boxes I had put in the bedroom with the items I had removed from the bar counter for Thanksgiving. Yes, they've been there ever since. I'm a slow mover. I found the power cord for Mike's Microsoft tablet.  I was about to order another one when I couldn't find it in my study. I still can't find the remote speaker which Mike bought me. I suppose it might always show up, but I fear that one of my houseguests took it.  One was grateful for my generosity, but the other made it clear that he thought I was out of place, asking him to leave after three months of living in my house for free. Right or wrong, I believe he is capable of believing I owed it to him because of what I did to him- ask him to leave.  I didn't use the speaker very much. That's not a big deal.  But it was a gift from Mike; That is a big deal. 

    While looking for the power cord, I found a slip of paper in the box with Mike's handwriting on it.  I have no use for the information on it. I turned to throw it in the garbage.  Then I kissed it and clutched it to my stomach. Amazing energy exuded.  I stood and then sat for at least half an hour pressing the slip of paper against my body. Heat emanated.  I finally gave a big sigh and felt the time was over. 

    I took out the vegetable and fruit waste to the composter and walked over to Ronen's to check how purchasing boxes of food from them would work.  Ronen and Elizabeth had set up a shade tent with a table. No, they were not handing out containers today; they were taking orders. Orders could be placed online, should be.  I ordered the $20 packet with one eggplant thrown in.

    Yesterday, I had gone through my whole phone address book to announce the farm stand to all those who I knew lived on the west side of the island.  I got two nasty replies.  One from a man who had received someone else's phone number, and another from a woman who lived here.  One of my yoga buddies sent a scathing text back; her attitude lacked aloha. Those are fighting words in Hawaii. When I spoke to the woman who sent the response, I told her that the woman may have used the occasion to let off steam instead of bopping her husband over the head. I certainly didn't take it personally.  There were only three comments from people not living on the island. They were all in the L through P group in my address book.

    Today I called Melissa to let her know about the farm stand. I included her in the group text, but I know she only has a primitive phone and doesn't do texts. She and Larry have their own garden vegetables and are doing just fine. 

    I mentioned that I have still been making it up to the second fire hydrant, where the Easter Island statues are. She had conversations with the woman who lives in the house. It wasn't clear to me if the woman had told her, she was the woman of the house or if Melissa just assumed that. She learned that the man was a gastroenterologist in Las Vegas, and he was developing his property as a wedding venue. Because his home is in a development with a constitution, he cannot use his property for business without the other homeowners' consent. Melissa said she and some of the other owners are opposed to such changes. She said can you imagine the parking and the noise every weekend.  I offered that maybe he is making it a wedding venue for his own family. That he could do without the consent of the association. We'll see.

    While I enjoy the Easter Island statues, Melissa thinks they're ugly and don't belong here in Hawaii, far away from their natural habitat.  I have to agree; I find some of the good doctor's taste questionable. Melissa said his perspective is influenced by living in Las Vegas.  It does have that look, but it also looks like he is having fun. What the heck.

     B. called to tell me that there was 1 lb. of freshly caught fish available for free at Kona Brew. Jeff, who has a connection to the brewpub, caught a large fish and contributed it to the Kama'aina community, literally those of the land, figuratively all of us who have Hawaiian driver's license, for free.  It was 1 lb. per person.  I had to call ahead, let them know that I was coming and be prepared to show id when I got there. No one could drive up and say I need 6 lbs. because I have 10 people in my house. It was literally 1 lb. per person present.

    I took Elsa with me. We both needed a change of scene. I took Elsa to the Growler Shack, used for order pick up.  I didn't want to get too close. There were a bunch of folks in their twenties standing around.  I said I was here to pick up the fish from Jeff. The guy I spoke to had no idea what I was talking about. A young woman behind the counter called to me and asked, "Are you Elizabeth?" I used my legal name because they were going to ask to see my driver's license. She asked for my telephone number, and I was good to go. She put the plastic bag with the fish on the counter, walked away, and I went and picked it up, holding it at an edge.

    When I got home, I sprayed everything down that I had touched with rubbing alcohol after getting Elsa back in the house. 

    I checked the stats on how many cases of the virus there were on the island. The number had jumped from 7 yesterday to 10 today; there were three more cases. Judy was one of them.

    Judy had spoken to a mutual friend from church today. Her husband has lung problems.  He is very susceptible to bronchitis, and it takes him forever to get over it. Needless to say, she is very nervous about him.  I have been thinking of them a lot, too, for the same reason.

  

Friday, March 27, 2020

    I had a coughing jag in the middle of the night. Yes, I was concerned that I had the virus, but I immediately checked for a temp; I had none.  But before I even did that, I thought, "If I'm going to continue coughing like this, I should move to the living room, so I don't disturb Mike." Will this go on forever? I hope so.  I much prefer the illusion that he is here than understanding that he is gone, gone, gone.

    I didn't get up when the alarm went off at 7, but I did get up shortly after 8. Elsa and I went on our walk. My bum hurts more, not less. I understand this means it's healing. The discomfort is spreading across my butt cheeks.  

    I discovered the other day that I can make each step a small backbend. If I think of pushing through my hip as if I was doing a camel while standing and then let the movement flow up through my back to my shoulder, neck, and top of my head, I get a slight backbend.  No, I do not allow my head to roll back as it would in camel.  The backbend isn't big enough for that to happen anyway. It is just a slight backbend. What I hear in Bikram all the time is how we do too many front bends, and our bodies will thank us for each backbend we do.  Imagine, one step =one backbend.  Our bodies will love us.

    I figured out why the landscaping project on the property of the Easter Island statures has stopped.  The owner, who is a doctor, has returned to California, where he lives.  All the gates to the property are chained closed.

    I saw the excavators clearing an empty lot for development moved the massive pile of rocks down the hill.  They said they were going to use the rocks to do some ground leveling.  I think they were laying the foundation for the driveway.  On the way down my street, I stopped off at my neighbor's house to let him know about the availability of some rocks on that property.  I walked up this very steep driveway and called his name.  No response.  It looked like all the cars were home.  I have no idea. Could they still have been in bed at 9 am? Larry's retired. I can't imagine he can sleep late.  On the other hand, maybe he's the type that stays up all night with insomnia and sleeps during the day. Whatever. I will write him a letter.

    My yoga buddy, Maite, called. She thanked me for calling her to check on how she was doing. She explained that she hadn't returned my call because she was in Mexico.  I knew she had fallen and injured herself, which is why I called in the first place.  

    She explained that she fell while walking on a local lava beach, broke her wrist, and damaged her shoulder. She was told that she would need surgery on her wrist. Yikes! She didn't have health insurance, and she only could get an appointment for surgery here on the island several months out. Her niece in Mexico is a doctor. She flew to Cancun, where her niece is working, and had the surgery the next day.  Her brothers and sisters in Mexico took care of her while she healed well enough to return to the island. She received some physical therapy in Mexico. She was told that there was a long wait before she could get it here.  

    I have Kaiser; I love it. The only problem is that we have to go to Oahu to get that many of the services.  Mike and I found that we got timely and excellent service. We were more pleased with this system than any we had ever experienced in our long lives. Mike's whole time in the hospital costs us less than $3400.  I say less because he already had paid for the dialysis he had for the first few weeks of January, reducing his deductible.  My stay in Honolulu cost me $9,000, and that's with Damon covering my hotel and food on his first trip and my food on his second.  And let me tell you that food was delicious.

    I spent a good part of the morning texting everyone in my address book who lives on the Big Island, announcing that my neighbor, who usually sells to hotels and restaurants, is opening a farm stand and a subscription service.  Unfortunately, all he sells is salad stuff.  I crave broccoli, asparagus, green beans, squash, etc. etc. etc. I'm doing my part to help his business survive. I'm not sure how much he is selling in his packages. 

    I received reply texts from people thanking me for the information. One was the foster parent of two of the kids I have worked with.  I called Ronen, the owner, told him that she currently has 10 foster children in her care and could he give her special prices. He said he could do something. I called her right away to tell her. I told her to stop at my house before she went over to the farm stand, and I would go with whoever was doing the shopping to let them know that this was for her house. Shortly after, Ronen texted me and told me to have the foster mother call him directly. 

    I got a routine call from Judy. We speak daily.  Judy took me on as one of her ministries after Mike died. She calls every day to check on how I am. When there was concern she had the coronavirus, I was devasted at the idea of losing her.  Yvette watches out for me; she is aware of what I'm doing because she can hear my footsteps through the floor, but she doesn't call every day.  While Judy and I were on the phone, she got a call from an 'unknown.' She said she had to take it because it might be her virus test results; she would call me right back. She didn't.  I called her twice before I got her.  Results: yes, she's positive. 

    The doctor figured she got it from her son and his wife because they were both very ill a short while ago.  Their five-year-old son is a germ delivery system, and Adam is an Uber driver.  However, I think they were sick too long ago to have caused Judy's case.  The other possibility is that she got it on the youth retreat, but not from the kids.  The other adult had just returned from California. The doctor said all cases of the virus, so far, had been brought in from some who came from somewhere else.

 

Thursday, March 26, 2020

    I am conjuring images of Mike spooning with me, hugging me, and kissing me.  I also have been having weird dreams about being touch appropriately and inappropriately by strangers.   Not too much of a surprise since I haven't been touched by another human being since the 14th, which was my last day at Bikram. Someone at Bikram always gave me a hug, so I wasn't deprived of all human touch. Those hugs weren't just for me, the poor widow; some people hugged freely.

    The sister (M.) of a relative through marriage, S., came to mind today. M. suffers from frontal lobe dementia. She remained at home for a long time but finally moved to a care facility. Her niece, L., visited me and filled me in. Apparently, M's husband does not visit her in the facility.  I felt grief for M. While I'm sure I care about her, I'm also sure that the grief  I felt for her is also my grief. We have both been abandoned by our husbands. Hopefully, her dementia prevents her from fully understanding the cause of his absence.  I know the reason for Mike's absence, at least with my conscious mind. My body-brain doesn't quite get it.  Abandoned is abandoned.

    Among other triggers, today is the sixty-fifth anniversary of my father's death. It seems March is not a good month for the men in my life. However, my uncle died in October, as did my mother. 

    I am remembering all that Mike meant to me.  It is impossible to say how much he loved me, but I can describe what I felt from him. I felt loved, appreciated, respected, enjoyed, and admired.  I was comfortable with his admiration because it was only one of many colors on the palate of his feelings for me. Also, I admired him. I would tell people how great he was. I wasn't even aware that I did that until one day when I was talking to neighbors, the husband said, "I hope my wife talks that way about me." I didn't feel I was bragging about my husband.  I thought I was just telling people about this great person I knew. I was so proud of him.

    I know one source of grief for Mike with me was that I didn't like his homilies.  I would tell him repeatedly that it wasn't that I didn't like them; I didn't like being lectured to by my husband.  He assumed that teacher- tone of voice. I actually didn't like the sound.  Many people loved his homilies. They were deep and well-informed. 

    Yvette texted me this morning to say she was doing yoga in her yoga room and would not be joining me for a walk. I was feeling fine except for the bruising. I set out for my walk. I did over 6,000 steps yesterday.  I planned to walk somewhat higher on the hill this morning but still not do the whole distance. 

    I find that my left leg is stronger, and the inner thigh muscles of that leg are not pulling as much.  What do you know?  The fall may have fixed something instead of doing more damage. When I was twelve, I fell coming out of an Indian sit in a gym class and landed on the left side of my tailbone.   It really hurt not only when it happened, but that area remained tender for years.  I couldn't sit back without triggering pain. My father took me for a medical exam. The doctor told him I had fractured my tailbone, and there was nothing to be done about it. 

    When I fell two days ago, I hit the right side of my tailbone.  I experienced a change in the range of motion in my left hip immediately.  Could I have knocked my tailbone back into alignment? Is it possible that my body problems were caused by that fall I took when I was twelve? Is it possible that a fall I took at 79 fixed the problem? None of that fixes the cartilage loss in my left hip joint.  That problem is not resolved.  However, if I make it through this virus threat and my money is sufficient, I will immediately make arrangements to get stem cell treatment for that hip to replace the missing cartilage.

    Yesterday, as Yvette and I walked, we saw Larry, our neighbor down the block, working on his rock wall.  He is building one himself.  I asked him where he got the rock from. He said from his own property. He said he was coming to my property to look for more.  On my walk up the hill, there is a property being excavated for construction.  There is a huge pile of rocks.  The workmen pulled up as I came up the hill.  I asked them if my neighbor could come and get some of them. They were hesitant but asked how many.  I was thinking of 10.  They said okay as long as it isn't a truckload.  As I walked past his house, I didn't see him out working on the wall.  I  planned to write him a note and put it in his mailbox. 

    Walking down my block returning home, I passed the home of the young man who tripped me up the other day with the dog leash. I heard a voice somewhere in the house and called out, "Hello!" A woman in a robe and unkempt hair came out of the garage area.  I said, "Tell Samuel I'm okay." She had no idea what I was talking about. I would have gone home and regaled everyone with the story of what happened.  I did go home and regale everyone with the story of what happened.  I had to explain the circumstances. She was upset naturally and promised to pass the message on.

    When talking to Damon last night, I mentioned again that Samuel had thanked me for staying calm.  I didn't know what he was talking about at the time, but it occurred to me that maybe he meant that I didn't start screaming at him.  He had some responsibility. His reaction time was very slow for a twenty-something. He could have grabbed the dog; he could have caught me as I went over. He did neither. He wasn't an uncaring person; he just didn't have the reflexes he needed to do the job. Besides the improvement in my left leg, I got another bonus out of this fall.  I realized that it never occurred to me to yell at him. That means that I am finally nothing like my mother.  Mike helped me with this.  I kept saying, "It's a problem to be solved," and kept my focus on the solution instead of the cause of the problem. 

    Thoughts about some possible consequences of this 'shelter in place forever' practice: Increase in divorces, increase in domestic violence in general, and the murder rate among couples. This morning I thought of another increase, an increase in the number of births.  If I'm right, this is going to produce another baby boom generation. I remember when we had a city-wide blackout when I was living in Brooklyn. Nine months later, obstetricians were busy, busy, busy.  

    There are so many changes that have happened already. Some businesses have died; others have sprung up.  Old ways of social engagement have been curtailed; new ones have sprung up.  My sister has tea with a friend every day on Facetime. She had dinner the other night with two friends. They all prepared the same meal and got dressed for the occasion. She says her children, their in-laws,  and her husband, from whom she is separated, all plan to do Passover together. 

    While I miss physical touch and Mike's presence, I  enjoy the solitude, even the emptiness of the house. I don't feel alone. Yvette is downstairs.  She always listens for my sounds. She always knows if I'm okay.  I have several people who can and do go shopping for me.  My only concern is a lemon shortage.  I love my fresh lemonade every evening. I'm not even as concerned about running out of chocolate. 

    Shivani said that I was like her. I would take chocolate over anything, even a fruit pie. Wrong! When offered a tasty fruit dessert, that always appeals to my palate. 

    While speaking to Judy, I completed another task that has been on my to-do list for several years. I sorted out my jewelry. I set aside some to donate to Memory Lane when we can get out a move around again. Memory Lane was one of the first shops to close. That makes sense since it is staffed by elderly volunteers.  In the process, I found a pair of earrings I wanted to give Yvette. She and Mike gave them to me about 25 years ago, but I'm not wearing any jewelry these days.  Why hold on to them?

    Judy called. She is still feeling lousy. Her biggest problem is the loss of her sense of taste and smell.  While she was under chemo, food tasted lousy, bitter, but at least there was something taste, and her sense of smell seems to have been okay. Now, there is nothing, nada. She said this is one of the symptoms of the Covid-19 virus.  If that's the case, it does look like her results will come back positive.  She must have gotten it when on the retreat with the youth group. Judy is a foody. As she says, if her sense of taste doesn't come back, it will be a huge cross to bear.  So far, her husband is okay. Thank God.

    Beau, the dog with the amputated foot, had to go to the bathroom several times last night. When he does, Judy has to put him on her lap, ride down in the electric chair to the bottom, and then back up. Last night, the chair got stuck on the way up. She had to carry a 30 lb. dog up the rest of the way. Mucho dangerous.  I said she should have called her son and had him come up. She said he was asleep already and didn't want to wake him.  I asked her how she thinks he would have felt if she had fallen down the stairs.  

    I downloaded the fifteenth volume of Louise Penny's novel Gamache series," A Better Man." Jean reminded me of my/our love of these books. What I have been enjoying so far have been nonfiction books. The McGilchrist book got a little much, but I have enjoyed all the David Brook's books I have read, Karen Armstrong's book on Mohammad, and the book on Jung. 

    Reading the book reminded me of Jean; I called. As with everyone, we compared notes on the virus spread. The eastern side of New Jersey is marked bright red, meaning the spread there is as bad as in NYC.  On the other hand, the western half is relatively clear. Jean said there were no cases in Princeton yet.  She and John were talking about going out shopping. Since Jean is in her late 70s and John in his 80s, and they both have health issues, I suggested they ask someone else to do their shopping for them.

    Lay down on my sofa/anti-gravity chair to read. I was able to do something I haven't been able to do in years. I was able to raise my left leg and cross it over the right using the muscles of my left leg instead of slipping the right leg under the left and hauling the left leg up. Wow! There is no question my left leg is better.

    I took Elsa for a short walk tonight. It had been a cold, gloomy day with a period of intense downpour. As we went out for that walk, it was still drizzling. We headed home quickly. 

    A quick dinner for Elsa and for me.  I listened to my favorite evening, NPR shows, "Says You," and "Hidden Brain." Hidden Brain covered an analysis of the way the US dealt with the Spanish flu. Very interesting. Denial was the US's primary weapon back then because politicians didn't want the population distracted from the war effort.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

    I slathered my tailbone and my hand with Intrasound, known in my family as ‘makes no claims.’ But that a story for another day.  It is a  sound healing product, a special clay infused with some sound vibration.  For the purposes of topical application, it’s in a surgical cream. I have used it for bruising in the past with excellent results.  I slept pain-free.  I woke up several times during the night and had no trouble navigating my way to the bathroom. 

    When I went to bed, I assumed I would wake up in more pain. That did not happen.  My biggest concern was that I actually broke my tailbone.  That would mean shooting pains down the back of my legs for the rest of my life.  I did have a few incidents of that as I walked home, but that was it. The only difficulty I’m having is bending over to pick something up off the floor. This only creates a serious problem when it comes to putting the harness on Elsa.  Given she is only 13 lbs., she is close to the floor.

    I didn’t get up at 7. I had plans to sleep in.  Judy called me first thing in the morning to ask how I was.  She had to hang up in the middle of our conversation because she got a Facetime call from the vet.  Her husband drove their dog, Beau, to the vet.  Judy is under quarantine because she has a temperature and a cough. She will be getting the results of her test soon.  Howard is actually also under quarantine because of his contact with Judy, but this was an emergency.  Beau is in a great deal of pain.

    The vet knew that Howard was under quarantine and met with him outside the office in the parking lot.  He discussed the results of the  X-ray he took of Beau’s foot.  He hadn’t seen anything with a manual check, but he took a different tack since the pain was increasing. 

    The X-ray showed something, but it was not clear what. The vet recommended going directly to surgery.  They weren’t going to do chemotherapy, which might be an option. Since nothing else had worked so far to relieve his pain, this was the most direct and cheapest treatment. I learned that toe cancer is a common problem in black dogs of various breeds. Very strange. What would a dog’s color have to do with cancer? 

    Next, I called Dorothy to tell her that I was doing well.  She said she read my text telling her I was okay, just bruised, before she got my voice mail telling her what happened. I had called her late last night. She was the closest I could get to calling my mommy. She was already asleep. My need wasn’t that great that I had to wake her.  

    After calling Dorothy, I called Yvette to tell her that I had fallen, so she would be on call in the morning should I need her.  She said she had been thinking of walking with me, keeping a six-foot distance, of course.  

    In the morning, I called her to say I was ready to go.  We didn’t do my whole walk, and I had her hold Elsa’s leash because my hand still hurt.  This is the longest side-to-side conversation I have had in over a week.  It was nice to have her company. We walked all the way up to the second fire hydrant, where the Easter Island statues are. I had no problems walking either up or down the steep hills. Am I lucky, or am I lucky?

    Yvette told me that Josh had gone back to work after an eleven-day vacation.  However, she told me that no precautions were being taken by the Post Office. They were not even being given plastic gloves, and they are working closely together when they sort the mail, which has to be covered with the virus.  Yvette said Josh is finding people standing by their mailbox as he drives around to deliver the mail, anxious to hand over their mail, or receive the mail from him, mano a mano.  Yvette thinks it’s just so they can have some contact with another human or so they can have a momentary chance to escape their house filled with partners and passels of children. 

    I did some work on the blog and took a long nap.  I’m still recovering from the shock of the fall.  I missed Mike terribly this morning.  I dreamt we were lying together spooning.  A hug from him served as a stress release.  I’m going to have to live without this for the rest of my life.

    Scott texted me to tell me he had picked up the PCV pipe stuff for my planned free-standing towel rack, which I designed to replace the metal ones I have now.  Everything metal here rusts. The only thing to do is view the rust as a design feature on furniture and lamps. 

    Scott had to cut the pipe to size for me.  I thought he would get the cutting done at the store.  He said that that would have taken him more time.  When I asked him how much I owed him, he said nothing.  On the one hand, this is a great deal for me, but it also leaves me hesitant to ask people to do things for me because they will have to pay for it out of their own pocket.  As long as I have money, I would like to pay.

    Damon texted me.  He had tried to call me yesterday. He said he is swamped setting up his work situation online so his team can continue working on their project together. He was relieved to learn that I wasn’t seriously hurt in the fall.  Not only am I not seriously injured, but I also find that I can bend over to the left more easily.  What doesn’t kill you makes you better, if not stronger, literally.     

    I was up to washing the bathroom floor. This isn’t a huge deal for me.  I have a Rainbow vacuum, so all I have to do is flood the floor with the shower hose and vacuum up the water. As much as she hates baths and hates going out in the rain, Elsa loves grabbing a drink from a hose. She has also gotten more aggressive with the vacuum cleaner attachment, but only when it’s in action. She nipped at it today.  It‘s not clear to me if she sees it as a toy or some dreaded foe.

    Elsa and I went for our evening walk. The street was crowded with children riding hoover boards, skateboards, and bikes. I’ve never seen that many people out at once on my street.  I think someone booted their brood out to get some relief. There was also a large, unleashed dog in their midst. However, he was old and looked about a dangerous as a fire hydrant.  At one point, the dog approached Elsa. The young man on a hoverboard came near to assure me his dog wasn’t a threat. I backed off frantically onto the grass. The young man said his dog wasn’t dangerous.  I told him it wasn’t his dog that concerned me but him. He was coming closer than six feet. The young don’t seem to get it.

    Damon called later today. He works for DreamWorks Animation. He said that it was only the animation production that was still in business in Hollywood. All live-action work was canceled. 

    Yvette had sent me the four pictures she took of Mike and me in the church parking lot.  The series is priceless.  Damon always caught shots of us showing affection, but Yvette caught more than that.  She caught playfulness as well as affection.

    I asked Damon to have Shutterfly mount all four pictures on a plaque the way he had the pictures of his mom, my sister, and me together mounted on one.  He made arrangements while he was sitting in his tub talking to me.  That’s when he calls me when he is taking his evening bath.

    I spoke to Judy too.  Beau was home and moaning in his sleep. He was still in pain, but this pain was because of the toe amputation rather than the growth in his foot.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

    When I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, my hip complained. That was unusual and raised some concerns.  However, in the morning, I had not only had no pain walking, but I also had no discomfort lying in bed. Huh?  I didn't get up when the alarm went off a 7, but I was ready to get going 45 minutes later.

    Before I managed to get out of bed, I heard Scott calling, saying, "Good morning, Betty. I'm dropping off a gift." Checking on that 'gift' was my first task of the morning. It was a stash of Hersey Chocolate Kisses with almonds that Yvette sent up. 

    I texted Judy to ask how she was before I did anything else. She had told me last night that her thermometer hadn't correctly recorded her temperature. When it was taken at the testing center, it was considerably higher. 

    The walk to the top of Kukuna, which once looked insurmountable, now seems almost effortless. It was 3,300 steps to the very top. That's a mile and a half plus a few extra steps—no big deal. When I got back home, I registered 6,250 steps.  It does take fewer steps to come down than to go up.

    As I started on my walk, I saw Adam and Jazzy moving their things out of the ohana into the main part of the house. Leon, their 5-year-old, was running around.  He petted Elsa.  I made a note to remember to wipe her head with alcohol when I got home. Besides them, the only familiar face I saw on my walk was David.  I asked him if he had people living with him. No, he also lives alone. He said he is still going out to pick up groceries. He is a few months short of 65. Maybe he thinks he's not vulnerable.

    The gate to my Easter Island statues was closed. There were some workers there yesterday as I was heading up, but by the time I came back down, they were gone. Now they're not here today.  I did see that Asian woman who I think is the housekeeper but could be the woman of the house.  She was sitting outside again to make her daily phone call to someone who speaks another language.  She was on top of a large mound of rocks, like one story high, which the owner is developing to be part of a Japanese garden.

    I found a text from Judy when I came home asking she could use one of my thermometers. I got an envelope, sprayed it with alcohol, sprayed the thermometer with alcohol, and walked it over to her house. She lives on the second floor. Access to the house is via an outdoor staircase.  I met Howard halfway and handed him an envelope with it.  The thermometer fell out.  The case was lying on the stairs, but the thermometer fell through the spaces between the steps to the ground below. Oh, well. Best laid plans. 

    When I got home, I rechecked the USPS mailbox. Nope, no mail. Scott finally told me what is going on.  There are so many packages coming through the post office because everyone is ordering online that the postal service is overwhelmed.  He said he saw one postal car with so many packages they were piled up next to the driver.

    Okay, it's after 12 noon, and Hawaiian Health Department's statistical update is available. Today the number of known cases went down to 2 from 5 yesterday, but there is only one death for all of Hawaii.

    One possibility is they were listing suspected cases as confirmed.  I called Melissa, who is on quarantine since her return from Washington State. She had not been feeling well, coughing a lot, and returned to Hawaii rather than risk being one of Washington's superinfectors. She and Larry were tested by Kaiser.  They had just received the results of their tests a few minutes before I called after a seven-day wait.  They do not have the dreaded virus. Phew! 

    I called to offer an over-the-fence visit if they were done with only seeing their own faces in mirrors and each other.  They live at the top of Kukuna.  I pass their house every day.  I proposed calling them, and they could come out and speak to me face to face over the driveway gate. She thought it was a great idea.

    She also told me that she is enjoying her confinement. So far, so am I.  She is reading a history book. Not to my taste, but I'm at no loss of books to read.  Remember, I still have close to 4,000 books in the library. Also, Jean has recommended several books I could order for my Kindle.  There is a new Gamache book out. Love reading about him and life in Three Pines. 

    I called Judy to give her the news about Melissa and Larry. She told me that she didn't think the thermometer I gave her was working. It probably got damaged in the fall.   Judy and I agree that it would be a good idea to get back to normal and just let the old and infirm die.  This is the time-honored method of dealing with large-scale problems, except during wars when the young are sent to the front lines. 

    The dentist called me to check on me about the problem I called him about.  How great! I told him I would call him on Monday if I wasn't better.  I had thought of calling but decided against because I know besides being confined at home, this is actually his vacation.  He told me they had plans to go to Utah for skiing. Forget that; they are home for a staycation. 

    Sandor had texted me earlier telling me he was going out shopping, did I need anything. I told him lemons and whole grained bread.  I told him that getting the lemons from Costco would be the best. He sent me a picture from Costco showing me the line waiting to get in spread across the parking lot.  They are only letting in 25 people at a time. He headed off to KTA.  He dropped off the groceries at my front door while I was out weeding.  He must have gathered up as many loose lemons as he could.  The package included two loaves of bread and chocolate, two packages of Hersey's Milk Chocolate nuggets with almonds, and four regular-sized bars, which I did not request. Still, I can always use them, and they are greatly appreciated. 

    On my walk tonight with Elsa, I took a nasty fall. I ran into a young man walking his young dog on an extra-long leash. His dog circled me while chasing Elsa, wrapping my legs in his leash. Down I went.  After moaning and groaning for a while, I just lay there. It is my practice to rest in place when I fall until my body tells me it's okay to get up. The young man asked what he could do. I told him to stay with me and make sure no one ran over me.  I was, after all, lying in the middle of the road. We were there for about half an hour. My tail bone was badly bruised, at best. At worst, it was broken. That would be very bad. If it was broken, it would limit my ability to walk because of shooting nerve pain. My right hand and elbow also hurt, but there were no broken bones, assuming my tailbone was intact.  

            As I laid there, we talked. The young man had moved here from Germany.  I learned German at home, but I speak it poorly. According to my uncle, "I speak it as no native German four year old would be caught dead speaking git, but I can make myself understood." I get to trot out my German every ten to twenty years. I tried a bit of German on him.  He said he had professors who spoke the way I did.  My German was my parents'; it was a high German – of the 1930s.  My parents never learned the informal German, which came in after WWII. 

    When I was ready to get up, he helped me.  I managed to get into downward dog. I told him to get behind me. He reached for my shoulders. I told him, no, grab my hips. This is what works in Bikram when I need help. I asked the kid to walk me home to make sure I got there. 

    As I walked into the driveway, I saw Ronen, my next-door neighbor in the yard, with his headlamp on.  Ronen has a commercial farm.  Almost every inch of the yard is covered with his vegetable crops.  I told him that a fellow I had run into on Hiolani was setting up a greenhouse. I had told him about Ronen's farm. Allen said he would love a chance to talk to Ronen and get some advice.  When I asked Ronen if he would be willing, he said, "Absolutely!" He said, in fact, he was setting up a vegetable stand and a subscription service because his usual customers, the hotels and restaurants, had no use for his produce at this time. The Covid-19 virus has caused everything to be shut down. We are all sheltering in place. I would like to go out a do a little bit of shopping, but I have everyone telling me, "No, no. Stay put. Don't go out. If you need anything, let me know." 

    Once home, I fed Elsa made dinner of salad, soup, and my lemonade.  I was still able to walk. Let's see what I'm going to be like tomorrow morning.  

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

 

    When I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, my hip complained. That was unusual and raised some concerns.  However, in the morning, I had not only had no pain walking, but I also had no discomfort lying in bed. Huh?  I didn't get up when the alarm went off a 7, but I was ready to get going 45 minutes later.

    Before I managed to get out of bed, I heard Scott calling, saying, "Good morning, Betty. I'm dropping off a gift." Checking on that 'gift' was my first task of the morning. It was a stash of Hersey Chocolate Kisses with almonds that Yvette sent up. 

    I texted Judy to ask how she was before I did anything else. She had told me last night that her thermometer hadn't correctly recorded her temperature. When it was taken at the testing center, it was considerably higher. 

    The walk to the top of Kukuna, which once looked insurmountable, now seems almost effortless. It was 3,300 steps to the very top. That's a mile and a half plus a few extra steps—no big deal. When I got back home, I registered 6,250 steps.  It does take fewer steps to come down than to go up.

    As I started on my walk, I saw Adam and Jazzy moving their things out of the ohana into the main part of the house. Leon, their 5-year-old, was running around.  He petted Elsa.  I made a note to remember to wipe her head with alcohol when I got home. Besides them, the only familiar face I saw on my walk was David.  I asked him if he had people living with him. No, he also lives alone. He said he is still going out to pick up groceries. He is a few months short of 65. Maybe he thinks he's not vulnerable.

    The gate to my Easter Island statues was closed. There were some workers there yesterday as I was heading up, but by the time I came back down, they were gone. Now they're not here today.  I did see that Asian woman who I think is the housekeeper but could be the woman of the house.  She was sitting outside again to make her daily phone call to someone who speaks another language.  She was on top of a large mound of rocks, like one story high, which the owner is developing to be part of a Japanese garden.

    I found a text from Judy when I came home asking she could use one of my thermometers. I got an envelope, sprayed it with alcohol, sprayed the thermometer with alcohol, and walked it over to her house. She lives on the second floor. Access to the house is via an outdoor staircase.  I met Howard halfway and handed him an envelope with it.  The thermometer fell out.  The case was lying on the stairs, but the thermometer fell through the spaces between the steps to the ground below. Oh, well. Best laid plans. 

    When I got home, I rechecked the USPS mailbox. Nope, no mail. Scott finally told me what is going on.  There are so many packages coming through the post office because everyone is ordering online that the postal service is overwhelmed.  He said he saw one postal car with so many packages they were piled up next to the driver.

    Okay, it's after 12 noon, and Hawaiian Health Department's statistical update is available. Today the number of known cases went down to 2 from 5 yesterday, but there is only one death for all of Hawaii.

    One possibility is they were listing suspected cases as confirmed.  I called Melissa, who is on quarantine since her return from Washington State. She had not been feeling well, coughing a lot, and returned to Hawaii rather than risk being one of Washington's superinfectors. She and Larry were tested by Kaiser.  They had just received the results of their tests a few minutes before I called after a seven-day wait.  They do not have the dreaded virus. Phew! 

    I called to offer an over-the-fence visit if they were done with only seeing their own faces in mirrors and each other.  They live at the top of Kukuna.  I pass their house every day.  I proposed calling them, and they could come out and speak to me face to face over the driveway gate. She thought it was a great idea.

    She also told me that she is enjoying her confinement. So far, so am I.  She is reading a history book. Not to my taste, but I'm at no loss of books to read.  Remember, I still have close to 4,000 books in the library. Also, Jean has recommended several books I could order for my Kindle.  There is a new Gamache book out. Love reading about him and life in Three Pines. 

    I called Judy to give her the news about Melissa and Larry. She told me that she didn't think the thermometer I gave her was working. It probably got damaged in the fall.   Judy and I agree that it would be a good idea to get back to normal and just let the old and infirm die.  This is the time-honored method of dealing with large-scale problems, except during wars when the young are sent to the front lines. 

    The dentist called me to check on me about the problem I called him about.  How great! I told him I would call him on Monday if I wasn't better.  I had thought of calling but decided against because I know besides being confined at home, this is actually his vacation.  He told me they had plans to go to Utah for skiing. Forget that; they are home for a staycation. 

    Sandor had texted me earlier telling me he was going out shopping, did I need anything. I told him lemons and whole grained bread.  I told him that getting the lemons from Costco would be the best. He sent me a picture from Costco showing me the line waiting to get in spread across the parking lot.  They are only letting in 25 people at a time. He headed off to KTA.  He dropped off the groceries at my front door while I was out weeding.  He must have gathered up as many loose lemons as he could.  The package included two loaves of bread and chocolate, two packages of Hersey's Milk Chocolate nuggets with almonds, and four regular-sized bars, which I did not request. Still, I can always use them, and they are greatly appreciated. 

    On my walk tonight with Elsa, I took a nasty fall. I ran into a young man walking his young dog on an extra-long leash. His dog circled me while chasing Elsa, wrapping my legs in his leash. Down I went.  After moaning and groaning for a while, I just lay there. It is my practice to rest in place when I fall until my body tells me it's okay to get up. The young man asked what he could do. I told him to stay with me and make sure no one ran over me.  I was, after all, lying in the middle of the road. We were there for about half an hour. My tail bone was badly bruised, at best. At worst, it was broken. That would be very bad. If it was broken, it would limit my ability to walk because of shooting nerve pain. My right hand and elbow also hurt, but there were no broken bones, assuming my tailbone was intact.  

            As I laid there, we talked. The young man had moved here from Germany.  I learned German at home, but I speak it poorly. According to my uncle, "I speak it as no native German four year old would be caught dead speaking git, but I can make myself understood." I get to trot out my German every ten to twenty years. I tried a bit of German on him.  He said he had professors who spoke the way I did.  My German was my parents'; it was a high German – of the 1930s.  My parents never learned the informal German, which came in after WWII. 

    When I was ready to get up, he helped me.  I managed to get into downward dog. I told him to get behind me. He reached for my shoulders. I told him, no, grab my hips. This is what works in Bikram when I need help. I asked the kid to walk me home to make sure I got there. 

    As I walked into the driveway, I saw Ronen, my next-door neighbor in the yard, with his headlamp on.  Ronen has a commercial farm.  Almost every inch of the yard is covered with his vegetable crops.  I told him that a fellow I had run into on Hiolani was setting up a greenhouse. I had told him about Ronen's farm. Allen said he would love a chance to talk to Ronen and get some advice.  When I asked Ronen if he would be willing, he said, "Absolutely!" He said, in fact, he was setting up a vegetable stand and a subscription service because his usual customers, the hotels and restaurants, had no use for his produce at this time. The Covid-19 virus has caused everything to be shut down. We are all sheltering in place. I would like to go out a do a little bit of shopping, but I have everyone telling me, "No, no. Stay put. Don't go out. If you need anything, let me know." 

    Once home, I fed Elsa made dinner of salad, soup, and my lemonade.  I was still able to walk. Let's see what I'm going to be like tomorrow morning.