A Cry from the Heart

I haven't written anything in a long time, which is an indication that things were better, or at least that I was better.  The happier I feel, the less I write.

My partner is still in hospice care.  It has been about 7 months now.  People talk about caregiving being hard, but I am much happier being a part-time caregiver than I was being a full-time copyeditor working at home.  Spending (through my best, white knuckled efforts) 30 hours a week in a small studio apartment staring at a screen, mostly preoccupied with where to put commas and periods, is not a life.  I could never make a full 40 hours (not for lack of work, but for lack of tolerance for that level of mental torment) so I was fortunate to be able to use the modest amount of money in my mother's savings account after she died to supplement my earnings, being frugal but not painfully frugal.

Things brightened a little when I started to collect Social Security.  If I could work 20 hours a week I could manage. Once my partner became more and more impaired, I had a really meaningful part-time job: geriatric care manager.  It involved difficult financial maneuvers, and dealing with recalcitrant bureacracies, but now my life was once again richly peopled in a way that it had not been in years.  There were always people in her house: aides, healthcare providers, social service providers. I got to use my management skills.

A few months ago, when the market was doing well, I bought an annuity.  (I am so happy I did that!). So now I only have to work 10 hours a week.  Over the past few years, I hadn't been able to make myself work 20 anyhow.  It was more important to be with my partner.  Or just go OUT with a friend. But I paid a price.  I have now used up all but $4000 of my mother's savings.  All that's left for emergencies is the rapidly diminishing money in my 401k (I have 60% left because I used 40% to buy that annuity).

My singing has improved.  I seem now to have a solid vocal technique that I can rely on, even if I'm a little tired or haven't eaten enough protein. I sing much much much better at 69 and 3/4 than I did at 54, or even 64 or 67.

Fast forward to coronavirus. My biggest problem for a long time has been inadvertent social isolation.  I work at home (I have noticed that the less I work the happier I am), and when I am not at home in my apartment, I am at home at my partner's apartment.  I spend about 80% of my time shut in.

And now my tiny handful of opportunities to go out are disappearing.  Church is closed. They are live streaming services but that doesn't really interest me.  I go because there are people.  And of course to sing. We will have an online choir get together of some kind (I will have no idea if this means I will be visible, so I had better dress properly. ) My therapist asked if I would be open to having a phone session and I said no, I would not pay for a phone session.  Either I will have a session in person and pay for it, or I will see if I can get some free counseling (in person or over the phone) from the hospice.

Several people who used to visit my partner (her therapist and someone from the LGBT senior center) have been told not to, to talk to her over the phone.  My partner has dementia.  She has a much harder time understanding what's going on over the phone, compared with in person.  And she never learned anything about technology; has never used the Internet and does not have a smart phone. There is no technology in the house other than the aides' smart phones which they were told not to let her touch.

So far my Pilates studio is still open. We spray down the mats. I don't know if my voice teacher will be conducting lessons.  I know his wife has health issues, so he may not want to, but if he wants to I will come.

I ride the subway and the bus.  How else can I visit my partner? Cabs are too expensive and frankly more dangerous if someone with the virus was sitting in the back before me.  I guess if I had to I could walk, at least the weather is nicer.  It is about 3 miles or a little more.

I am much more afraid of sinking deeper into this isolation that I have fought and fought and fought to get out of for a decade than of catching coronavirus.  All I want is not to die before my partner.  If she dies of the respiratory symptoms of coronavirus rather than of something else, and I die shortly thereafter, to whom will it really matter?  I have my affairs in order.

ETA: My Pilates studio is now closed.  My voice teacher is not seeing students. I suppose the one silver lining to all this is that now everyone has to live the way I have lived for a decade. I no longer have to envy other people's diversified lives.  Now we're all in the same boat.  My only fear is that a "shelter in place" order will force me to choose whether to stay with my partner or stay home.  I work at home (there is no way I could set up my home office at her apartment, which not only doesn't have an Internet connection; it doesn't even have decent electrical wiring) and I have my cats.  And I will not let her die in her apartment without me. I will shelter in two places.  If I can't get a "compassionate exemption" I will do it anyhow.  What's the worst that could happen? I will have to pay a fine?