The View from the Hermitage, Day 143

It had to happen sooner or later. My mom's assisted living facility sends texts or emails to family members giving a link to a newsletter-like post on the covid-19 situation. Yesterday's update included that they had had an "associate" test positive for covid-19 but it had been determined the person had had no contact with any residents or staff. Not sure what they meant by "associate," I called them this morning. Certain things they have are outsourced. The folks providing physical therapy, for example, are not employed by the facility; they're employed by an outside company that handles all the PT. I thought that those people might be referred to as "associates." But no, "associate" equaled "employee."

Nancy, the person with whom I spoke, told me that the person in question was off work for several days and had attended a party on one of those days. They then learned that someone who had been at the party had covid-19, so they got tested. The result was positive. Nancy said that the infected person had not been at the facility during any of the process of getting tested, awaiting the results, etc. I very specifically asked about the sequence of events. Was it not at the facility for several days before they'd gone to the party or not at the facility for several days before they'd been tested? Nancy assured me that the time away was before the party at which the person presumed they'd been infected. Assuming that's correct and the person was not back in between the party and learning they'd been exposed, it might be okay.

I sent the letter link to my mom. The letter included residents in the salutation, but they're not too good about seeing that residents do hear about things. My mom is one of very few who has a computer and knows how to use it. When I spoke with Mom this afternoon, she said that she'd heard a couple of aides trying to figure out who it might be. She said that the physical therapist with whom she works told her he'd heard it was an aide on the night shift. My mom was more than a little worried since she has contact with a night aide once or twice every night. She fell a while back and since then needs help getting out of bed and to the bathroom if she needs to pee in the middle of the night. She was also raised on a farm and has never broken the habit of getting up before the sun. A night aide comes in around 4:00 or 4:30 and helps her get out of bed and get dressed. Mom said she could not remember exactly when it was but recently the night aide who helped her was sneezing a lot. Mom said she had asked the aide if they had the virus. The aide said the sneezing was just allergies. In light of the latest news, this makes Mom quite nervous.

They do require masks if a resident leaves their room. Mom wears a paper one inside a fabric one when she goes down to check her mail each afternoon. They also check temperatures regularly. They say they check them once each nursing shift, but Mom says it's really more like twice. The night aide often does not do it so as not to disturb people while they're sleeping. On covid-19 tests taken July 1, all residents and staff tested negative. They have another round of testing scheduled for next week. Needless to say, I'll be more than a bit nervous until then.

I did encourage Mom to talk with an administrator or nurse--not just an aide--about her concerns. I said if she felt awkward about doing that, she could say that I told her to. Her concerns are legitimate and should be addressed. Clearly, they can't say which night aide (assuming it was a night aide) caught covid-19, but they could perhaps put some of her concerns at rest in terms of timing or of the aide sneezing. She does not need to sit and worry silently about possible exposure. This virus is wicked and not to be taken for granted. Rumor has it that five residents and five staff members at a brand new, very ritzy assisted living facility have tested positive. The number of facilities with no cases is dropping fast.

I was a bit upset when I got the letter yesterday. It did not help that I'd also just gotten an email about needing election officers to work with Virginia's first stab at early voting in the 45 days before November 3. I had volunteered to do that in those rose-colored, pre-covid days before the dumpster fire that is 2020 was lit. So I was feeling guilty and more than a little wimpy about being scared to work even with all the precautions they have planned. I ended up bursting into tears during a phone call with older son and the husband. They were assuring me that I'm doing the right thing by taking absolutely no chances and that no one could blame me for wanting to be so careful. My doctor has said I am not over-reacting and hermitting will protect me. Older son promised me a hug, and he delivered this morning.

After getting my emotional shit together (i.e., I stopped crying), it then occurred to me that I should let my brother know. He lives in Maine and pretty much plays no part in coordinating our mother's care. That bothers me some days more than others. Last night was one of the bothersome ones. I figured that if I called he'd think the worst. Since I'd gotten the news via text or email, he could get the news via email as well (he has never had and will never have a cell phone, only getting a cordless phone a couple of years ago). I emailed him and his wife. My brother can go days without checking email, but his wife checks once daily. There's been no acknowledgement, but I assume they got it. I included them on today's email about my talk with Mom.

So it's been a pretty crappy day or two. State case numbers and seven-day rolling averages are pretty much at the level they were when things were first shut down. The university still plans to being students back even if it's two weeks after originally planned. Now I have my mom to worry about when there is absolutely nothing I can do to help her. (Is this what a parent feels for their children at various stages of upbringing?) Having a house to put back together can offer only so much distraction. I'll muddle through, I'm sure. The dumpster fire's not going out, but I'll do what I can to keep it confined to that one dumpster over there.