I’m shell-shocked. As is everyone else. So much has happened so quickly. Each day brings new information about what we should, and should not, be doing. It’s mind boggling. And now we find ourselves in the fight of our lives.
Two weeks ago, we were preoccupied with railroad blockades and Indigenous rights in Canada and the Democratic primaries in the United States. Our son living in Whitby sent an email asking when we were coming home. Our other son living in Petawawa encouraged us to stay in Vancouver as long as we could. That Saturday, our house-sitter called to say she had just cancelled her April trip to California and could stay in the house if we wanted to delay our return. At the time, we’d never discussed how long she could stay; we assumed to the end of April. She has since assured us that she will look after our house and the cat for as long as it takes… which is well over and above what we can really expect.
My husband and I are both 75 years old and, like most people our age, have co-morbidities. Neither of us were keen to go through YVR or Pearson, nor to spend four to five hours in the petri dish of an airplane returning to Toronto. It was my husband who first proposed that we stay. Uncharacteristically, for the blue-stocking BC chauvinist that I am, I was plagued with doubts and worries. For ten days, we dithered (“I dithered” may be more correct) about whether we should take our return flight to Toronto which was scheduled for March 26th. That would have been yesterday.
Last Saturday, Air Canada sent an email telling us that our 1:30 p.m. flight was changed to 6:30 a.m. because of “a government travel advisory.” They also offered us an opportunity to upgrade to another class of seat. I had had it. I pressed the button to “Cancel Booking” without waiting for the later instruction which told me how I should have proceeded if travelling on Aeroplan. Maybe I will lose those points. Maybe I won’t. But If I do, it won’t compare to the exorbitant airfares countless others have now had to shell out for new tickets home.
Having made our decision to “stay in place,” I thought that the hard part was over. We have a nice two bedroom, two bathroom apartment in an old rental building in West Vancouver. It has a balcony and a view over the water. Our “cottage in Vancouver” (which I’ve written about before) seemed a perfect spot to sit out a pandemic.
How hard could it be? We are bloody lucky to have the place. The Sunday before the library next door closed, I took out some books. Among them, three volumes of stories by Alice Munro and Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance, Canadian classics I have never read. I figured that would tide me over.
Alas, on Sunday evening, I discovered that our fifteen-year-old-plus television was on the fritz. How could we survive here in isolation without a tv? The story of the tv will be a blog post in itself, but by Tuesday morning, we had a new television. Had not yet set it up. Too tired.
By now, there were many more pressing priorities at hand. Like what do we do if one of us were to get the virus? How would we self-isolate or go into quarantine in this apartment? The reality of the existential danger facing us sank in. We had to think seriously about our living arrangements, our standards of sanitation, our interactions with each other, and how we were going to survive.
I wanted to get Effervescent Bubble going again, and dear friends encouraged me to do so. But how to get it going when all was doom and gloom and I felt anything but effervescent?
I certainly don’t want to dwell on the hard news which dominates the media. I want (no, need) some good news, some levity, some practical instruction about how to survive. I also yearn for more efficient contact with the people I love, both those in my family, and the many friends across the country and around the globe who are already part of the Effervescent Bubble community as well as those who may choose to join us in the future.
Last Thursday, Mike Crisolago’s article entitled “Beat Isolation Blues with Virtual Concerts and More,” published on everythingzoomer.com, appeared in my Inbox. Apparently, the New York Metropolitan Opera is streaming their Encore opera repertoire free of charge. That night, I watched La Traviata and loved it. (Another blog post to come.)
Lori Myers, my EB editor and friend in Toronto, wrote an email telling me about a virtual “family birthday party” planned for Saturday night, using Zoom. I had never heard of Zoom. My two daughters-in-law (the technologically gifted members of our family) hadn’t either, but they suggested that we form a Video Chat group on Messenger. And then there is FaceTime and Facebook and all the other social media that bring people together when they are physically apart. (Another obvious blog post.)
It occurred to me that if we are to endure a pandemic, we have all the tools at hand to meet many of our basic social needs even while in isolation. Many already operate in a virtual world. For others of us, this pandemic is going to be a crash course in modern technology.
On Sunday night, Lori sent me a long, long email setting out dozens of topics that would be of interest to people who have followed my blog. Clearly, it’s time for The Effervescent Bubble to get off her duff and reconnect.
It feels good to be back on board. I look forward to our ride together. Keep safe.