I don’t think I need to say why.
I’m doing a little better now than I was earlier in the week. Early this week, it felt like a series of lasts. Last CrossFit class. Last PT appointment. Over the weekend, a last visit to family.
Then, Tuesday morning, as I was leaving the therapy appointment in which we discussed that March 17 the year before was the last day I spent with my father when he was healthy – I got a call from the barn. Because I’d been out of state over the weekend (that 24 hour visit to family), they asked me to stay away for a minimum of five days.
I get it. It’s fair. It’s safe. But I spent a very, very bad 48 hours, because I had just told my therapist that the barn was going to be my refuge, because I was always there when it was empty. So now I got to stew for 48 hours in my memories of my dad in an ICU on a ventilator when that’s all the news was talking about, transitioning to being stuck in my house, and not seeing my horse. Even when I am at my most stable and happy, being kept from Tristan is really hard. This week has been worse.
It’s Friday now, and I am doing better, slowly. Yesterday, I did my last work-related thing not at home (a livestreamed talk during which we all sat at separate tables in a large room) and Wednesday picked up gym equipment from my CrossFit box and set up a home gym and did my first WOD at home. I successfully tested grocery store delivery and curbside pickup from a few downtown bakeries and cleaned up my craft room to get some projects ready for when I feel ready for them.
Tonight, I’m hoping to go to the barn and move all my tack and grooming supplies to my car. That will eliminate all but one point of shared contact – his stall door – and I can wear gloves for that. I’ll talk to the barn manager this afternoon to clear it, and I won’t be there around other people until the 14 days is over. I’ve been temping myself twice a day (and have learned that my average is more like 97, wtf?) because I need this to work.
Anyway. Fingers crossed, everyone.