From Flying High to Laying Low: Lessons Learned During Life with Covid-19

It has been many months since my last post…here’s why…

Touch down. Exactly one year ago today.

I’m not talking about a football game but when my 14-hour flight from Chengdu via Chicago to Philadelphia touched down on the tarmac last year at the onset of coronavirus in the USA. 

Sensing borders would close, I had come home to check on my elderly mother and disabled sister to make sure they were ok. It was with mixed emotions because on the one hand, my life in China was so exciting and the year promised great things; on the other hand, my family is important to me and I couldn’t be away from them during such a strange and dangerous time.

After weathering six weeks of uncertainty and plenty of anxiety in China as the world watched and waited for information about this insidious mystery disease, now in the U.S.A. it was time to self-quarantine for another two weeks in a nearby Residence Inn as requested by the CDC. While I always have plenty of work to do, I was climbing the walls and wanting to be with family and friends.

Once “out of jail” I immediately drove to my mother’s nursing home only to see a large note on the door. “CLOSED” No one allowed in. My heart sank.

365 days later I’m still here. I’m living in a time warp with one foot in China and another in the USA. I can’t easily return to China and yet it feels strange to “be home.” Some days I wonder where home is.

Mom contracted Covid-19 in April and it was touch-and-go as we waited to see if she would survive. She did – barely. Then pneumonia sent her to the hospital in May, but I couldn’t go and be with her. She was deathly ill, frightened, and alone. To all the medical staff’s surprise, she made it out, but she was never the same again. She weakened over the next six months and passed away shortly after the new year. The only time I got to touch her was when I went to the funeral home to make sure that all was ready for the small burial service we had arranged for her. I stroked her wavy grey hair and said to her – as I had said for the last year when we ended our phone calls – “I hug you, kiss you, and tuck you in.”

All the while, my sister, Kathy, who has Down syndrome, had been going downhill because of her seizures and Alzheimer’s disease. Right at Thanksgiving (American Thanksgiving in late November) one of our caregivers became ill, so I knew I had to get tested. It came out negative, but I didn’t believe it because I had lost my sense of smell and taste. Amidst all of the confusion and disorganization of where and how to get tested, I found a different place and tested positive. So, while weak and quite ill, for the next two weeks I had to isolate while caring for my sister who also had become ill. I can honestly say it was probably the hardest two weeks of my life. It has taken me three months to even begin to feel like myself again. Not so for my sister because of her condition, and she continues to go downhill.

We’ve all had our struggles this year: working remotely while caring for children at home; children supposed to be going off to college for the first time; dealing with illness in the family; not being able to see family (especially older members whether at home or in a nursing facility); loss of employment, maybe even loss of a home; missing the happy events in life such as graduations, starting a new job, engagements, weddings, anniversaries, and family vacations; disconnect from friends, family, and life in general.  Some have suffered more than others. But one thing for sure is that every person who inhabits this planet has been affected by the global pandemic in one way or another.

In a nutshell, this past year for me has been about perseverance, emotional resilience, and servanthood. I want to begin 2021 with positive reflections on how I have managed to not only survive but thrive in a life filled with extremely difficult challenges and sorrow due to Covid-19. I will do so by recalling the high points – learning how to find moments of joy in the little blessings and silver linings that were always peeking out from behind dark clouds. 

●      While I couldn’t physically be with my mother, I talked with her on the phone at least once a day. She often said to me it was a comfort to her that I was only 3 miles away instead of 8,000. It was a good decision to return home even though the rest of my life was disrupted. 

●      Perhaps I couldn’t sit with her and have tea together, but I could go to the grocery store and buy her favorite cookies and snacks, and bring her bottles of water (she had become paranoid the water was bad because she couldn’t taste it - it had to be the Deer Park brand because no other water tasted good, which meant it wasn't safe). These little treats became her sustenance and something to look forward to - together. I would leave them at the door of the nursing home and then call her later when she opened up her latest bag of goodies.

●      Several times I snuck around the back of the facility to wave to my mother from the window because she was on the first floor. I soon became bold and one day pried open her window to talk with her (I had a mask on.). The head nurse caught me, dutifully scolded me, and later that week the nursing home director sent an email message to all the families stating that no one was allowed to come to their loved one’s window anymore. Oops! Busted!

●      Then came summer and they allowed a few visits outside with us standing ten feet away. We commented on her recent haircut and tried to encourage her that she looked great (she didn’t, having been ravaged by the disease). She was actually feeling pretty good that day and posed in her wheelchair, crossing her ankles and putting her hand up to her head, cocking it as if she were a movie star. We laughed and laughed. The pictures are priceless.

Life was good despite the barriers.

Regarding my sister, Alzheimer’s is a strange disease – while it’s progressive and has three stages, there is no predictability, so everyone responds differently. It’s hard to wrap your mind around it because the target keeps changing - not just day to day - but throughout the day. It’s also hard not to despair while you see your once bright-eyed and happy loved one becoming dim and confused. Again, finding joy in the everyday moments has been priceless.

●      Every day we designated something special to do – like Saturdays became “Pancake Saturdays.” While I prepared them, I would make up funny songs and sing “at the top of my lungs” to make my sister laugh. I probably annoyed my neighbors!

●      I bought her a new, zippy red wheelchair and we’d go for a “roll” in the nearby park or even around the neighborhood. Sometimes we headed into the small town across the railroad tracks – just to see what was happening and who was out and about. One day in the park a Mister Softee ice cream truck came by and I bought us the biggest ice cream cone available (complete with “sprinkles”) and we giggled as we greedily gobbled it up.

●      For Fourth of July I decorated our balcony, and we had a picnic with all sorts of her favorite treats. I took selfies and immediately sent them to our family. After a brief rain shower, a rainbow shone through. There was hope peeking out at us.

●      At Thanksgiving (before we knew we were ill), we went for a “roll” in the neighborhood because it was gorgeous with the fall leaves still beautiful as the afternoon sun shone through the dazzling foliage. We wanted to look for the wild turkeys that we often see strutting up and down the street. They were in hiding.

●      Kathy would look at my Hong Kong pearl bracelets or necklaces, touch them, and smile. So I’d take them off and put them on her wrists or neck. She became quite fashionable! This was a newfound interest of hers and she seemed proud to be given her sister's jewelry. So we started doing "mani-pedis" (manicures/pedicures). Sparkly was her favorite.

Priceless memories.

In these unprecedented times, we always find a way to persevere. The indomitable character of human beings never gives up, always hopes for the best, and stands firm when times are tough.

These are personal leadership lessons learned that will stay with me as I endeavor each day to become a better person and global leader in our multicultural, ever-changing world: perseverance, emotional resilience, and servanthood.

As we begin a new year and wonder when (and sometimes if) life can go back to “normal”, this blog is a tribute to all who read my posts. This is meant as an encouragement to you and all that you have gone through as you have persevered in the face of Covid challenges. I hope that you will share your stories with me and how you have learned to carry on in the midst of adversity.

Be safe…be well…and no matter what, don’t give up hope by creating little moments of joy throughout the day. You just might see a rainbow!