Captain’s Log # 55 - It has begun

We have our first 2 positive coronavirus tests on campus, both employees, one works with home members and, of course, they both got it from people they interact with off campus. We had to sign a document that we had received a letter stating these facts, apparently this is a requirement of the health department (thank you, health department.) This event has triggered a cascade of processes and procedures. I’m not aware of all of them, yet, but one of the residential units is locked down while they test their residents, and everyone is negative. If any of them come down with the bug it will be all over the campus because some of these guys flaunt authority; they’re the types who would’ve ended up in the brig, multiple times. The Post Exchange (PX), our convenience store, was shut down for the day but will reopen. The entrance and exit gates will be more heavily staffed, again. (Hmm, it might be harder to get a Notary on campus to sign the Power of Attorney (POA) forms that members desperately need. Bummer. I work with forms that must be signed by the home members or their POA, and when you come back from a hospital stay, you’re often not in good enough shape to sign an 83-page document, hence the need for a POA.)

There are approximately 750 residents and 850 employees. It has been predicted that we will experience between 15 and 20% mortality, that’s 112 to 150 residents and we’ll lose more than a handful of employees. I believe they’re planning on shipping the serious cases requiring Intensive Care to the local hospitals. More information later.

They have already done about 1,600 tests. I’m told everyone in our office will be tested next week, and none too soon. Several of us have already been tested but the more I hear of my co-worker’s interactions with their friends, the more worried I get.

Worried is not the right word. I feel relieved that the virus is finally on campus, at least I can let go of that anxiety. And I am relieved that the administration has a plan. Since both administrators, and many of the managers, are former military, I have every confidence in their commitment to control the situation to the best of their ability. After that, it will depend on the compliance of the members and staff. The chief administrator has already issued a (charming – not!) email ordering everyone to wear a mask on campus “all day, every day!” I’ve noticed more compliance. I think most of the members respond well to commanding orders, but the staff, those who are not former military, are downright resentful; well, they’re State employees.

It’s been uncomfortable confronting my own mortality. We all ‘know’ this is a one-way ticket. A teacher of mine said, “No one gets out of this alive.” Yeah, yeah, right. And perhaps you have, when your folks were alive, wondered what it would be like when they die, which of course they must. And then it happens and it’s nothing like you thought, devastating, traumatic, earth-shaking, a hurricane of emotions. But this is different: I live my life, I grocery shop, I must share an office with people who are clueless about social distancing and I feel a real sense of my mortality, fragile, like walking on thin, black ice listening to it creak beneath your feet. Crack! My supervisor says, “Not everyone dies who gets it.” Oh, that’s a real comfort. The anxiety of waiting to get it - it feels inevitable. The anxiety of having to make sure my will is in order (where is it?), my Advanced Directive. I don’t think I’d want to go to the hospital, I’d rather die at home, how about you? And worse, what if my partner dies? I’d be in deep doo-doo, he pays the bills and does all of the maintenance here, filling the propane bottles, digging the leaves out of the gutters and then, just missing his company. That would be the worst. Do you think about these things?

In the meantime, we’re having the most spectacular weather: cool, moist fog in the mornings, like Monterey but without the biting wind. It slowly burns off around 10:00 a.m. and reveals a breezy, balmy 81-degrees under an azure sky. Very nice, and we have a new family of Bluebirds in the front yard nest box. Life, and hope, springs eternal.

Speaking of Monterey, last week I was doing mind-numbing data entry and, while listening to Spanish guitar on my noise-cancelling headphones, I walked the streets and gardens of the Monterey Peninsula where I grew up: Cannery Row before the Aquarium; looking into the dusty windows of Doc Ricketts' Lab where John Steinbeck’s oceanographer friend worked; the vacant lot across the street where there was a block party in the early 70’s, lots of hippies and marijuana; Kalisa’s restaurant;  the cavernous relics of the decaying canneries with the glossy, mid-night blue water sighing among their lonely piers, tempting you to hop the fence and explore. Later I put on The Monterey Pop Festival movie and listened to that 1967 show. I was 14 and could hear it from the duplex I shared with my mother two-miles away on a sandy ridge-top in Seaside. Don’t get me wrong - I was working, but it was wonderful to visit these beloved places and times again.

About the job, on September 2^nd they will either invite me to stay or leave, I can’t tell which. My boss likes to keep me in suspense, he thinks it motivates me to preform to my highest potential. I disagree and I wish he’d give that up and start using positive reinforcement. I had my second of three probationary meetings and ‘Santa Claus’ said I had been very naughty and included a spurious harassment claim by an office mate who I, jokingly, asked if she needed anything sanitized in her cubby as I walked by wearing gloves holding a Clorox wipe after sanitizing the doorknobs and copy machine. Harassment! I’m tempted to file a counter claim: her harassment claim is harassing me! But that would escalate the negativity and I’d like to avoid that. Also included was a comment by the most cantankerous, mean-spirited man in the facility who reported that I had interfered with him getting his meds, this is a serious claim, and it’s B.S. The only good thing my supervisor said is five words, “you have good work habits.” Ha! He should have known me years before when I didn’t.

Later that day I requested an appointment with his supervisor to go over my report, this is happening tomorrow. Funny thing, during our regular weekly meeting, after the probation meeting and after scheduling to meet his boss, my supervisor chose to recap 3 small projects I had completed, giving me positive feedback on them, or at least recognizing the accomplishments. So, one day I’m expecting to be fired, the next I’m a successful, competent employee; that, and all this coronavirus anxiety: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

My goal to meet with the deputy administrator is to give her an opportunity to get to know me so if my boss chooses to ditch me, she’ll think positively and place me somewhere else. That Office Technician job is still open at the Chapel, and there is an Associate Government Planning Analyst position for a Training Coordinator. Whatever.

Our salary has been cut by two days per month as a cost saving measure for the poor State of California. Most of us are getting two, 4-day weeks; I’m getting 3 because I signed up for a program that allows you to reduce your pay by one day to get a day off. Four-day weeks! Woo hoo! (I know, I know, “only if you keep your job, honey.”) You must enjoy the small things.

If you need me, tap me on the shoulder, I’ll be in Monterey 😊

Stay safe and please let me know what you're up to.

Many blessings,

Karla, k.j, mom

P.S. Happy Birthday, Sue!