When You are on the Coronacoaster but your Spouse is Not

A friend recently posted a meme about being on the "Coronacoaster," which could be defined as the emotional ups and downs of the pandemic. You know...one minute you are making sourdough bread from scratch and alphabetizing your spice rack, and the next minute you are drinking wine for breakfast and ugly crying over a Honda "We'll get through this together" commercial. This is me. I am there. I am on the coronacoaster - the big one - like the ride at Universal Studios that boasts the largest climb and fastest freefall in the world. Evan, however, is not on the ride. Evan is on the sidelines, casually eating some popcorn, and urging everyone to stay off the coronacoaster. He is rock steady. Calm. Cool. Collected. I am happy for him. I really am. But it's just a little...um...annoying, to be honest.

I don't consider myself a particularly emotional person. Sad movies don't generally make me cry. I rarely yell or get animated when I am angry. Although I love hard, I'm not much of a hugger or one to participate in public displays of affection. However, in the past week I have 1) Sobbed uncontrollably at least 6 times (one particularly bad cry occurred when the repatriation flight to Canada dared to fly directly over our house)  2) Thrown objects against the wall in fits of rage (the video lesson that I was producing was cut off with 1 minute to completion 3) Felt so incredibly moved by a beautiful sunset that my jaw shook in preparation for another ugly cry, and 4) Hung onto Evan like a stage 4 clinger, pleading with him not to fall asleep before me (AS IF!).  That being said, just like that I can rebound - I can wipe the tears and snot from my face and totally crush a challenging 1 hour workout. I can rock myself back and forth in a corner and then immediately hop on a zoom call and deliver one hell of pep talk to the client's parent. It feels like a permanent PMS trip. Then I saw the meme...it all makes sense now. I am on the Coronacoaster. It's a "thing." Apparently I am not the only one...I mean, if they created a meme about it then surely there are others out there who are experiencing severe emotional ups and downs. Anyone? Anyone? It's a shitty ride and I want off.

Evan, on the other hand, seems to be flourishing under our current conditions. Let's be honest, anyone who knows Evan will joke that he's been training for a pandemic his whole life. Evan is an introvert. He is a man of contemplation who is comfortable with solitude. Evan has worked from home for the past 6 years, so other than the fact that his puffy-eyed crazed wife occasionally stumbles into his office in the middle of the day, announcing that she's created a new gin cocktail, nothing much has changed for his day-to-day life. In fact, while so many are struggling to adapt to the "new normal" (whatever that means), Evan is presently creating a program to assist fitness businesses in adapting to Covid life. So as I complain about the fact that I will have to brush my hair in preparation to produce my 45th Speech and language video lesson that is being viewed by...um...no one, Evan has taught himself how to code and is creating a website to support this new branch of his business.

Now don't get me wrong - I am very proud of Ev. I feel extremely lucky to be partnered with such a calm and anchored man who has managed to create opportunity amidst adversity. Not many people can do that! Evan doesn't feel extreme sadness right now. He doesn't look out at the vast sea and experience anxiety about feeling trapped on a tiny island. Evan doesn't lay awake for hours listening to ensure that Dundee isn't short of breath. And a part of me wishes he did...just for a minute...misery loves company, right?

Thankfully, Evan is very supportive, and never makes me feel ashamed or guilty for my emotional outbursts during this pandemic. He knows that I am not coping particularly well and he soon realized that I am not presently emotionally stable enough to tackle life goals. Instead of suggesting that I write a book or take an online class, he now suggests a bike ride or a hot tub "party" (haha - Read: We sit in the hot tub, drink rum punch, and listen to Bob Marley). So although he never makes me feel bad, I do feel a little loser-ish for having zero ambition and viewing a shower as a "win," when he is busy creating a website and drawing in new clients. I do feel guilty that while he coaches businesses how to adapt and flourish during Covid times, he, too, is adapting to being married to a coronacoaster casualty!

So...that's the current situation. We got our beach and our pool access back this week which has been diiiiviiiiine! (climbing high!). But I am missing my people so much it hurts -  I miss my island buds who I am still not legally permitted to see. I am really missing my bud Monty, and feel like I'm re-visiting a few stages of grief that I thought I had dealt with already. I'm missing my Canadian family and friends who I may not see now until (SOB) next year (freefall down!).

Cheers to enjoying the ride? 😁

Beach, please!

Hey guys,

Life has been challenging on our rock over the past month or so. Since the closing of our pool, beaches, and the implementation of hard and soft curfew that has prevented us from leaving our house during evenings and on Sundays, islanders have been more ornery than "cantankerous Kirstie" after 3 gin & tonics! This week after unsuccessfully attempting to provide speech therapy to families who are more concerned about where their next meal is coming from (rightly so), listening to the defeated voices of my co-workers on Zoom, and noting the discouraged frowns of my neighbours wandering aimlessly around our closed pool, it occurred to me that our island has definitely hit a wall this week. A massive cement wall.

When I hear about my Canadian buds having deck beers with friends and social distance coffees in driveways...even going for pleasure drives,  I have been extremely envious (READ: I love you, am super happy for you, but I want to punch you in your face). Our laws here during Covid have been some of the strictest, apparently, in the world. I have only ventured out weekly (I am allowed to drive on Tues, Thurs, and Sat but only to the supermarket, and only if donning a mask), I have been stopped by police on almost every outing, where they check my ID to ensure that I am driving on my appointed day and to question my intentions of leaving my house. A breach of curfew is a fine up to $3000CI and is a criminal offence, so you know...you don't "sneak" out for a little drive around here. In addition, the constant helicopters that circle our neighbourhood and police boats that patrol our waters are a constant reminder to just stay the F&%$ at home. It's super intense, especially when I hear about what life is like for my friends in Canada right now. In addition, it was announced officially that the Cayman border (airport) will remain closed until at least Sept, which resulted in a big 'ol ugly Kirstie cry which lasted for a few days....adding puffy eyes to my already deteriorating appearance. We will not be going home this summer. We will not be reuniting with our friends and family. I will not hug my Grandma. I will not visit with my Baba at the farm. It is still sinking in, but makes me feel incredibly sad and very disappointed. And...I am starting to cry again so let's move on...

Getting used to these coordinates...for the foreseeable future.

I find it interesting to read about other countries who are complaining about their rights being violated with the implementation of shelter in place laws. Sure, there are a few angry voices in Cayman that claim fishing is a Caymanian right, and there have been a few shootings in West Bay (but that's just West Bay being West Bay), but for the most part, our population is quietly adhering to the laws. When rights are questioned during press briefings, our Premier strongly states that it's the government's job to protect the right to life. Regardless if you are 100 years old or 2 years old, if you are Caymanian, Canadian, British, or Hondurian, we all have the right to live and it is our responsibility to protect this right. Caymanians have deep respect for their elders and those who are medically fragile (I have seen this first hand when I have been on crutches and community members have offered their position in line to me, etc).  So when people do complain about the economy or not being able to fish, our Premier states, "You can give up fishing for a while in order to save your Grandma." And that is that. No questions asked. This is Cayman's stance, aligning with their "Caymankind" culture, which appears much different than many countries of the world.

Oh how I miss our Westin happy hours!

I trust and hope that we are heading in a good direction, and today we received some very positive news that we, in fact, are on the right track.

Since testing has been amped up over the past few weeks, Cayman has now tested almost 6000 people. No one has come forward with symptoms over the past few weeks; however, all of our front line workers, including supermarket employees and healthcare workers are currently being screened. A few positive cases are still being detected daily which cannot be traced back to travel, indicating community spread, but for the most part, our numbers are quite low. Overall, 94 people tested positive, and over 50 of those have since recovered. Cayman has had 1 death, and that death was patient zero - a man who arrived off a cruise ship in March. We currently do not have any patients in the hospital.

Because our curve is almost as flat as my chest, some of our restrictions are relaxing as of next week. We get our beaches back, beaches! Whoooo. Now, we can only go to the beach on our alphabet day (That's Tues, Thurs and Sat for us), and we can only go with the intent to exercise for 2 hours. No beach BBQ's. No sunbathing. No sitting in a chair. And no meeting up with anyone outside of your household. I will take it! In addition, our dear dear pool will be opening again. Although I am quite certain that it's now the same temperature as our hot tub, I cannot wait to do some water walking and lounge by the pool with a book. These are luxuries that I have missed sooo much! It's been like 97 degrees with humidity everyday, which is like trying to get a breath fresh air during a hot shower, so I cannot wait to cool off somewhere!

So hopefully that cement wall that we are all ramming our heads into will disappear with a few of our restrictions next week!

In the meantime, stay safe everyone! Cheers

I'm home! I'm home! Leave me alone!

Why Smart Women Watch Shitty TV

I woke up gasping for air as sweat dripped down my face. I quickly reached over to open my top drawer and began frantically searching for the medication.

"Where's the pill? Where's the pill?" I repeated, tossing bottles of medication haphazardly around in the drawer.

 I abruptly came to the realization that I was dreaming again. I leaned back against my pillow and took a deep breath. There is no pill. This is a dream. There is no pill. Calm down. Go back to sleep.

I've been plagued by the "Where's the pill?" night terror for about 7 years now.

It began when I was diagnosed with Osteochondritis dissecans in my knees and was undergoing surgeries every few months. You know that moment when you are just about to fall asleep? In that moment many people experience the sensation of falling and then awaken with a start. Well I wake up with a start but also with an irrational fear that I've forgotten to take a very important pill. The sudden thought causes me to panic - my heart races out of my chest and I gasp for air as I search through drawers and pill packs. There was a pill. I forgot to take it. That's why I am not getting better. I forgot to take the pill.

I worked through my irrational night terror with my Pain Psychologist when I was in the thick of learning about my new disease. I had a lot of built-up anxiety about my diagnosis and it was manifesting itself every evening. Just as my body allowed itself to relax and drift off, my mind would scream"Not so fast!" forcing me to wake up and address the anxious thoughts in my head - in the form of non-existent pill searching.

I spent a lot of time working through my anxiety, incorporating strategies into my day to gain more control over my thinking, and address the worries that were consuming me. I worked through it and low and behold, the "Where's the pill" night terror disappeared from my nightly routine.

Or so I had thought.

Now wouldn't you know - guess what I have been busy doing around 10pm every night? That's right...searching drawers for the damn non-existent pill again!

I had thought that I wasn't really experiencing anxiety over this whole Covid-19 thing. I mean...it's unsettling.  It's a very strange time. But I don't feel particularly scared or anxious about it all. My days are pretty structured with work, exercise, dog walking, and TV watching. I'm not balled up on the couch crying my eyes out or anything like that. I'm taking good care of my body and thought that I was doing just fine. My brain, on the other hand, is telling me that I am, in fact, experiencing some anxiety by springing the whole "Where's the pill" night terror back into my life.

OK. I HEAR YOU. GOT IT. TIME TO CALM THE F DOWN.

So although I don't necessarily have Covid-specific anxiety, I think that the worries I am experiencing are amplified given the situation. Here's what's causing me concern this week:

1) Dundee has a degenerative valve disease in his heart. His heart function is deteriorating and it's been difficult to find the right combination and dosage of medications to maintain it. I spend many hours plotting Dundee's respiratory rate on the dog breathing app, and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be quite so obsessive about it if I could actually leave my damn house. I am super thankful that we have a Vet Extraordinaire who is available at all hours on Whatsapp. He has definitely helped to ease my anxiety.

2) I'm coming to terms with the fact that our annual summer trip back to Canada may not happen this year. It doesn't look like Cayman has any intention of re-opening our airport as long as the virus is alive and spreading anywhere near our border. The thought of not seeing my family and friends - especially my Grandma and my Baba makes me feel so incredibly sad. But...we shall see I guess.

3) Remember my super cool wakesurfing injury where I hurt my hand? Ya, well....after months of Physio, a splint for 6 weeks, and a quick trip to Philadelphia (pre-covid) to see the hand surgeon, it would appear as though I require tendon reconstruction surgery. But I mean, that's a future Kirstie problem, and as we all know, I'm pretty good at surgery. 😉

But it's OK. I have a plan. In addition to regular exercise (riding my bike and begging Candace Cameron Bure to acknowledge me on her live Insta workouts) and daily meditation (chanting "you've got to be f'n kidding me!" every time my Loom video drops me), I have decided to increase my Reality TV consumption!

Yes, I love reality TV. Yes, I am an intelligent, educated, and moderately successful woman. No, I am not ashamed. Shame me! Just try it. I don't give a care.

So many of my very intelligent, educated, and wildly successful female friends watch reality TV and feel shame. Don't feel shame, ladies! Reality television is actually very healthy. Here's why:

A recent study published in NeuroImage indicates that watching reality TV can trigger something called "vicarious embarrassment" in our brains. When we watch someone being humiliated, areas of the brain responsible for compassion, empathy, and the suppression of self-interest were activated because we can relate to those feelings of embarrassment. Therefore, watching Reality TV actually makes us more empathetic and less self-absorbed.

Ahhh - this is why I so enjoy watching Darcy from 90 Day Fiance ugly cry with each and every rejection she faces.  It all makes sense now.

Case closed. I am a better person for watching Reality Tv - and so are you, my smart successful friends!

Also, let's be honest - the people, situations, and experiences on these TV shows are basically the exact opposite of the mundane life that I am currently living. It's a great escape. I don't know about you, but I'm guessing we all need a good escape from our strange reality right now.

Cheers to Real Housewivin' Below Deckin' Vanderpumpin' Rulin' Bachelorin' and 90 Day fiance-ing all weekend long!

Darcy crying: Good RealityTV

Kirstie tearing a tendon - Bad Reality TV