Written and Contributed By Stephanie Williams
My name is Stephanie. I am a people person, serial hugger, and a germaphobe. I can greet you with a hardy full body hug, but bring me a drink with the straw already in the glass and we have a problem. Where’s the protective paper covering? Side-eye-frown-blink-blink-stifled cuss word.
Trying to be both people person and germaphobe can sometimes feel like I am walking a tightrope wearing flip-flops. Looking down at the ground below, afraid to fall. Not because I could die from the impact, but because there are so many germs on the ground. Needless to say, this coronavirus has hit me on all cylinders. Being quarantined alone is a blessing and a curse. I crave human contact, miss the touch and energy from another human, but at the same time in my mind, I sound like Oprah. “You got a virus, you got a virus, everybody has a virus!!” I feel like I broke up with the human race, but keep texting saying I miss you; I want you, I need you..but from six feet away. So, I let the germaphobe win and kindly took to the stay at home-work from home order. I set up my work station and began my time in solitude.
One week turned into five and the email came. One of my co-workers had the virus. The anxiety became visceral. I could feel it coursing thru my body. I tried to keep busy. I baked cookies, tried new recipes and walked on my recently dusted off treadmill to help with the effects of the cookies. 6 days later, a 2nd email. My co-worker had died. The fear rose up in me like an erupting volcano. It was easy. It had been on stand-by. Corona virus fear on slow-simmer, waiting. How can he be gone already? It all happened so fast. I spent 2 whole days in this panicked state of playing the same scenario over and over in my head. I can touch a stair rail, elevator button, yes on an ATM and days later, not be here. I prayed harder. The gratefulness came. I still have a job. I am home, I am safe. But the realization of this virus can’t be denied. It is here and it does not give AF. It’s quick, silent and deadly. Take it seriously. And save me a mask on, church hug when all this is over.
