Published March 13, 2025

Lockdown began on different days for different people. For me, it was the evening of March 13, 2020. The newspaper where I worked had us fill out a form, and then we went home to work remotely.

I’m still at home, still a remote employee, but for a different company. Also, yes, still on medical leave, although as of March 2 it’s no longer job-protected leave. As for most people, my future is quite uncertain.

As I’ve written a bunch of times in five years, “straight days of remote status” in the image above is my shorthand for “straight days of mostly hiding inside my tiny apartment.” Even when I’ve left those four walls, I’ve masked and isolated as much as possible.

I’m still alive, but changed forever.

Not interested in debating any of what’s happened since 2019. I still sleep close to 16 hours a day, and I’m not wasting whatever energy I have in those other hours on hopeless cases and hopeless causes.

I learned a lot

There was joy, wasn’t there? The way we rallied around each other? The notes of encouragement we posted for each other? Cardboard people in the stands at sporting events helped us smile and giggle in hard times. So much creative energy gave light to many.

For me, watching “The Good Place” and “Ted Lasso” helped keep me alive. So did many of you. Thank you. It takes a village to raise a Carly, especially one in her first couple of years of existence as an openly trans woman in a world that can be cruel.

I learned a lot. Too much, really. I learned that tens of millions of people in this country can’t be bothered to be moderately inconvenienced to help protect others and to keep tens of millions of people from long-term illness or dying. I learned that many people really did sleep through science class (and Sunday sermons).

And I learned there are so many people who have no interest in lifting all boats.

I learned that in America, you can’t get Republican-heavy legislative bodies to sign off on relief for the lower and middle classes unless you brand it as “economic stimulus.” We don’t care about saving lives, just The Economy.

And I learned that, more than ever, the Ukraine girls really knock me out.

One more look back, then it’s forward motion

Around Valentine’s Day 2020, about a month before the newspaper went into lockdown mode, I had the strangest flu ever. It hit me hard — hard — one night around 11, making me dread the days ahead, and then went away hours later.

The week before the newspaper went into lockdown mode, I had to go to the ER. I had chest pains, weird sensations running down my left arm, and felt OFF. (I know, right?) This was less than a year after my April 2019 gallbladder removal, follow-up surgeries and 12-day stay in the hospital. I was just beginning to bounce back.

This time, a battery of tests revealed no heart attack, no stroke, no arterial or blood pressure concerns. The ER doctor told me that my regular doc would follow up with me, but COVID lockdown began a week later, and the follow-up never happened.

Did I ever have COVID? I’ll never know, I guess. I never tested positive.

I’m still taking precautions. I have to, immunocompromised as I am. The best thing I have going for me is my super-strong heart, but I don’t want to push it.

Tonight I’m having dinner with two friends I was working with at the time of lockdown. It will be good to see them. I’ll still be careful. The people who love to say “you have to live your life” will be thrilled to hear I’m doing something.

Oh, and occasional reminder: If you want to tell me how to live my life, you’re going to have to come to the meetings.

Anyway, how’s the price of eggs where you are?

♥

Thank you for reading

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