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A strange new world
27 May 2020 18:13I arise as dawn is breaking, after another night of restless sleep. Coffee, shower, scrubs, grab my backpack/survival gear, ID badge, phone and most important my mask and head out into this new strange world on warp drive of constant and endless change.
There are people actually going about daily lives (!), faces covered in a crazy quilt display of patterns, textures, and colors. Buildings have arose where once houses stood. Spending the day shielded by a surgical mask and the new trend of eye wear. I take out the only shield I have been given out of a folder to keep it fresh. I change my comfortable home made mask to the sugical. The elastic wears at ears. I succumb to the void for resistance is frutile, and my garb is my shield between myself and others. And so it begins.
Clock in. Grab my bin of supplies, and head out to my command post. Being second in command, I'm the guard who sees those who failed the first station. Temperature, questions, application of the sticker of the day. The sticker is your clearance into the medical world. The screening process is like the airport, but instead a medical center. Those individuals who don't meet criteria are turned away. With of course security enforcement if needed.
Check in with the first station command post. Always looking into a person, or his or her badge, to assisting in recalling if I know this person or not, as being in uniform, there is seldom any distinction. Today both, the long brown hair lady, and I, had to take a double take with each other. I checked her ID Badge to discover that it was my yoga instructor Stephanie. Pleasantly cordial, it was all business and infrequent sightings. Seldom did she leave her post. Her presence in the area however, was comforting. Seeing her, was comforting.
Always Trying to scramble for information regarding opinions and thoughts of the popular topics at hand. Assessing the situation. Pausing to figure out if taking off the gear is allowed. Showing ones facial expressions in defiance. Who is social distancing? Who isn't? Never revealing ones own personal habits or history. Fear of catching it and transmitting it.
Walked over to my cubical on a rest break, hoping and successfully making contact, not physical mind you, with my co-workers. The first time I was in about tears. I didn't realise how much I appreciated and enjoyed my position in neurosurgery until poof! It was gone. I did love that job. My candy drawer is about picked to the bone of any sustenance.
Teary, yet thankful to be in familiar territory (my office) around individuals who hid smiles behind masks and air hugs of "Welcome back" and the sharing of information of where I am working. What happened after everyone ran, and hid, and separated.
There is down time. Time alone, with a book, or e-mail, the internet. figuring out what the media is saying about all this. All along watching a greater outside world happening live through the shield of a computer screen or a mobile phone. Noticing discrepancies. Analyzing headlines and questing could, maybe, might, and our private sources told me to.
Policies change daily, weekly, hourly. Laws written overnight. You must stay home, yet parks are o.k., no more than 10 people together, all six feet away. Yellow taped squares on elevators. Everyone has her or own space. Masks today, eye shields tomorrow. These masks are o.k., but these are not.
Praying for no curfew, empowering myself to assess my own personal risk. Each time a small victory, a spark of hope, that I'm making my own decision for me.
Interact with a smile underneath my garb, being pleasant, when others are not grasping and accepting to be back to at least what is recalled a little bit of normalcy. Of what it was like before. Yet different.
Navigating this strange new world, I have found myself in.
Packing up the bins at the end of the day, placing them in a shopping cart. Passing the CEO who looks straight ahead, as we push our supplies down a long hallway into corridors in a maze behind walls. The inner sanctum.
Relishing in the joy of jumping on the back of the cart, enjoying the ride down the long vacant hallway. Heading out to wash repeat again.
There are people actually going about daily lives (!), faces covered in a crazy quilt display of patterns, textures, and colors. Buildings have arose where once houses stood. Spending the day shielded by a surgical mask and the new trend of eye wear. I take out the only shield I have been given out of a folder to keep it fresh. I change my comfortable home made mask to the sugical. The elastic wears at ears. I succumb to the void for resistance is frutile, and my garb is my shield between myself and others. And so it begins.
Clock in. Grab my bin of supplies, and head out to my command post. Being second in command, I'm the guard who sees those who failed the first station. Temperature, questions, application of the sticker of the day. The sticker is your clearance into the medical world. The screening process is like the airport, but instead a medical center. Those individuals who don't meet criteria are turned away. With of course security enforcement if needed.
Check in with the first station command post. Always looking into a person, or his or her badge, to assisting in recalling if I know this person or not, as being in uniform, there is seldom any distinction. Today both, the long brown hair lady, and I, had to take a double take with each other. I checked her ID Badge to discover that it was my yoga instructor Stephanie. Pleasantly cordial, it was all business and infrequent sightings. Seldom did she leave her post. Her presence in the area however, was comforting. Seeing her, was comforting.
Always Trying to scramble for information regarding opinions and thoughts of the popular topics at hand. Assessing the situation. Pausing to figure out if taking off the gear is allowed. Showing ones facial expressions in defiance. Who is social distancing? Who isn't? Never revealing ones own personal habits or history. Fear of catching it and transmitting it.
Walked over to my cubical on a rest break, hoping and successfully making contact, not physical mind you, with my co-workers. The first time I was in about tears. I didn't realise how much I appreciated and enjoyed my position in neurosurgery until poof! It was gone. I did love that job. My candy drawer is about picked to the bone of any sustenance.
Teary, yet thankful to be in familiar territory (my office) around individuals who hid smiles behind masks and air hugs of "Welcome back" and the sharing of information of where I am working. What happened after everyone ran, and hid, and separated.
There is down time. Time alone, with a book, or e-mail, the internet. figuring out what the media is saying about all this. All along watching a greater outside world happening live through the shield of a computer screen or a mobile phone. Noticing discrepancies. Analyzing headlines and questing could, maybe, might, and our private sources told me to.
Policies change daily, weekly, hourly. Laws written overnight. You must stay home, yet parks are o.k., no more than 10 people together, all six feet away. Yellow taped squares on elevators. Everyone has her or own space. Masks today, eye shields tomorrow. These masks are o.k., but these are not.
Praying for no curfew, empowering myself to assess my own personal risk. Each time a small victory, a spark of hope, that I'm making my own decision for me.
Interact with a smile underneath my garb, being pleasant, when others are not grasping and accepting to be back to at least what is recalled a little bit of normalcy. Of what it was like before. Yet different.
Navigating this strange new world, I have found myself in.
Packing up the bins at the end of the day, placing them in a shopping cart. Passing the CEO who looks straight ahead, as we push our supplies down a long hallway into corridors in a maze behind walls. The inner sanctum.
Relishing in the joy of jumping on the back of the cart, enjoying the ride down the long vacant hallway. Heading out to wash repeat again.
