The First Case

 Well, well...

Today I got an email from a health department case investigator saying that one of my students who had attended class in person had tested positive for the virus. 

It didn't come as a surprise because one of my students had already told me they weren't coming to class anymore and had been tested because their roommate had been in touch with someone who had it. Another student went into quarantine voluntarily with their roommate when a cluster in their dorm was detected (they did it before they were told to do so).

I called the case investigator and this person told me (after asking lots of questions about the classroom) that it probably would be OK to continuing meeting -- since students are six feet apart and wearing masks, -- but I decided to not teach in person this week and reconsider next week. 

Sigh...

I don't want to feel guilty because I actually taught in person, but it's hard not to. I did what I thought was best for them and for me and I don't regret having tried it. There are some challenges with having students in the room and in Zoom at the same time that are quite unique, but OTOH it's nice to hear students talking, being able to answer their questions, etc. 

I will begin using this breakout room recommendation with all my classes, instead of only the advanced one.

In any case, I do have good reason to teach from home this week, so yeah... that's that. I really wanted to have given it a try, and I did, and now I feel kind of disappointed and despondent at having to go online for safety's sake.

My husband is coming back from Brasil!!

This pandemic has been hard. 

I wish I had been blogging.

I wish I could be journaling the way I did pretty intensively from February and March until May. 

Instead, I waste, throw away, trash HOURS AND HOURS of my "one wild and precious life" (Mary Oliver in "The Summer Day") on my phone. 

And I don't even feel guilty. 

Oh, the stupid gloating & smugness -- it's not as bad as before -- all of the introverts so happy. All the extroverts dying inside.

And the awful, awful realization that the world will never be the same. This absolutely crazily unprecedented experience will change everything forever. 

It's no longer the grief for the lost things... the son's senior year experiences, the husband lost sabbatical months in Denmark, the younger son's lost months in Brazil. 

The wonderful and anticipated trip to Turkey, Greek Islands and London.

The family reunion week in a wonderful beach in Florida. 

The trip to celebrate my mom's 80th birthday (next month). 

Or the family cruise in January 2021.

All cancelled. 

It's no longer the grief for those, it's the grief for what will never be. 

The grief for the near certainty that Democracy in America (and Brasil) will die an ugly death. 

Sigh...

Anyway, my husband returns tomorrow. It was not as hard at all like the 63 days without him, from December 26 to February 27, sigh... but still, I am glad he's coming back. I love him and miss him. 

Yeah... maybe I'll start blogging again? After all, it's been nearly three weeks I now have a desktop computer. I love desktop computers and hate laptops with a vengeance. 

OK, gotta go to bed. Nobody will read this, but still, it feels good to be posting after so long. Micro-blogging at Instagram is not the same. And FB is awful.