As we hit the two-week mark here in my Fortress of Solitude (not to be confused with any Fortress of Solitude in which you may be living), we pause and reflect — first of all on why we're saying "we" when it's just me here. I mean, that's the whole point of a Fortress of Solitude, isn't it? I'll do a deft, undetectable pronoun switch in the next paragraph.
It's now been two weeks since my doctor told me to stay in, don't go out, avoid the plague as if it were the plague and generally isolate myself. The primary goal here — and certainly a worthy one — is to not come down with the raging coronavirus that our esteemed president seems to have stopped telling us was a Democratic Hoax that would be gone in days. The fallback goal, if the primary cannot be achieved, is to not get it now when our nation's health services are already overwhelmed and struggling to cope with volume, volume, volume. I'm still working for that primary goal.
Groping to find less-horrible aspects of this thing, I recognize that a National Vacation — even one taken under duress and causing great destruction in a 360° circle — has its value. And those of us who'll come away from this will come away with an adventure we'll speak of forever after. I'm not suggesting mine is any more interesting than yours when I write about mine on my blog. I'm just doing because it's my blog and filling it is something I can still do.
My mother, the last decade or so of her life, came largely unstuck in time and not like Billy Pilgrim. She rarely ventured out of her house and when she did the last few years, it was just for medical appointments and ambulance rides. She lived by no clock. She ate not on any predetermined schedule but whenever she felt like she wanted to eat. She slept when she was tired and it wasn't always at night when a normal person would sleep. She might take to bed at Noon and wake up at 10 PM.
I always called her between 5 PM and 6 PM but did not panic when it took many rings for her to answer. If she happened to be in hibernation, she'd eventually pick up the phone on her bedside table, tell me she was fine and we'd agree that we loved each other…then she'd hang up and go back to sleep.
She listened to TV (by that age, she could not really see it) whenever she wanted the company. She had no favorite shows, no program she just had to have on when it was telecast. Often, what she listened to was Don Imus's TV show because what the hell else are you going to listen to at 5:30 in the morning? The Imus program was essentially a radio show on television and you didn't miss anything by not being able to see it.
At times when I've been immersed in a script that requires many days to complete, I have lived like that for a week or so at a time. It's more fun in Las Vegas because something's always open there so if you want a slice of pizza at 4 AM, there actually is a slice of pizza at 4 AM. But I've lived like that here and it's fine in short spurts if you can cope with the occasional need to do something on the timetable of the rest of the world. My mother had to be awake and reasonably functional when a caregiver came or a doctor appointment demanded her presence.
I'm living a little like that now.
Yesterday, I cleaned myself up and left my house, driving for the first time in two weeks. It was to my doctor's office where things were peaceful and there weren't a lot of people and a lot of them were nurses cleaning anything anyone touched, seconds after they touched it. The appointment was swift and easy. I passed a few tests, then felt the need to hurry back here to my Fortress of Solitude, taking a route that took me down La Cienega Boulevard and through the drive-thru at a Pollo Loco.
Later, I got two grocery deliveries — Instacart at 6 PM, Amazon Fresh around 8:30. I had not planned to get both on the same day but that's how the "next available delivery windows" played out. I'd ordered much the same things from both and happily, what one was out of, the other had. Instacart was out of my favorite potato chips, my favorite crackers and my favorite peanut butter. Amazon Fresh had my favorite potato chips, my favorite crackers and my favorite peanut butter but was out of a half-dozen things Instacart had brought me. Both delivered organic baby carrots but all the other dupes were things that have expiration dates in the far future so they'll get eaten in time.
So I have food. I have things to write. I have occasional company on the phone or Facetime. And since I stopped following the news closely, I have a general sense of peace but not, I hope, a naïve one. Horrible, horrible things are happening and I know we'll be recovering from them for years…but the important thing to remember is that most of us will be recovering. And while it may be tough to get through it, it sure beats the alternative.