The Twists and Turns and Ups and Downs of the Pandemic
By Dana L. Trimble
I had just finished packing my clothes into my suitcase, after trying to decide whether Denver in March would be warm or cold, or both, when I heard the familiar ding from my phone in my back pocket. It was an email notification. We had spent that Wednesday evening at a high school fundraiser for one of my husband’s colleagues who had recently been diagnosed with cancer. It was an emotional night and our senior twin daughter and son both performed as part of the event activities. At the time we had no idea that would be the last school activity we attended for their senior year.
The email notification on the evening of Wednesday, March 11, 2020, was the second email that night from my daughter’s volleyball club. The email earlier in the evening was to notify us that the tournament was moving forward, and we would meet at the airport the next morning. The second email was around 9:30 pm. This was the start of everything stopping. The tournament in Denver, which was scheduled to kick-off the next day, had been cancelled. We called the airlines. We called the hotel. Teams from all over the country were scrambling to cancel their travel plans with almost no notice. We were all shocked by what seemed like an overreaction.
Friday the 13th arrived, and we were told all events happening over the next two weeks of the school spring break were on hold. My office also notified us that we were to begin working from home immediately, if possible. I went to work and collected some pens and notebooks and began draining my aquarium. I had recently purchased a second aquatic frog, and I knew that the trauma of draining and moving them might be too much. I was annoyed, thinking this was a lot of work to just have my aquarium home for a couple weeks. However, I knew there would not be anyone at the office to feed my frogs each day, so I packed them up and brought them home. I left my half-dozen plants at the office since they did not need daily care. My co-worker and I made a pact to take turns watering. Little did I know these short-term watering visits would turn into a long-term routine.
During the first week of the shutdown I lost a childhood friend who had survived multiple rounds of cancer and subsequent health problems. It was difficult to go visit her before she passed because the hospitals were locking down. There would be no funeral and no goodbye. As the reality and panic of the pandemic began to set in, it occurred to me that she was probably an uncounted victim of COVID-19. She had all the symptoms on top of pre-existing conditions. It was time to start taking this more seriously.
I had just finished my master’s degree and was in the middle of an internal career change when our office went virtual. I began the adjustment of working at home and quickly became immersed in on-line meetings. Remembering to take myself off mute and raising my virtual hand was an adjustment. I was forced to build relationships with new team members over video calls. Effective communication seemed impossible, but we pushed forward and did it anyway. The cats often crossed our video screens. The dogs barked in the background. Roombas entered the home office areas. This was our new working reality. My family hid in their rooms while I was on video calls. We were further isolated, even within our own home.
I wondered if my part-time role as diversity officer would be put on pause. I had been working to get up-to-speed on issues related to diversity since accepting this position the previous year. I held trainings to bring awareness to these issues at work, but I also shared what I learned with family and friends. As the pandemic settled in, I watched as my colleagues scrambled to stay funded in an environment that is 100% reliant on grants and contracts. Those with small children struggled to find enough hours in the day to work, sleep, parent, write proposals, and homeschool their kids. The burden often fell heaviest on my female colleagues. I worried about their contracts. I worried about my contracts. Our family was lucky. Our twins were in college, and the youngest was old enough to be self-sufficient on the computer with her schoolwork so both of us could continue working. We were safe, warm, healthy, and employed. Many others were not. Outside of our personal and professional challenges, there was also civil and political unrest that highlighted the seriousness of the disparities in our country. My job as diversity officer was even more important than ever.
The days and weeks passed. We could not grasp that this was not short-term. We moved forward with graduation plans, talked about summer trips, and my twins began planning for college. They were excited. My daughter wanted to play volleyball in college, but one-by-one all of the tournaments needed for recruitment got cancelled. She was forced to change her strategy, widen her search criteria, and ultimately accept a spot at a school she had never seen in person. We then received the disappointing news that graduation had been moved to a drive-by celebration. My seniors were numb. They had been hanging on, knowing they would at least get that final walk with their classmates, many who they had known since elementary school. Their Senior Year was over.
There were other downs. For our kids, the lock-down meant there was no in-person school, no youth sports, no academic award ceremonies, no dates, no dances, no sleepovers, and no social activities. No life as a teen like we knew it. As parents, there was no running to different youth events, no date nights, no movies, no shopping, no visits with friends, and no sit-down dinners at a restaurant. We did our best to protect our elderly parents, but this meant very limited in-person contact. There were no big family dinners, no big trips, and no big vacations to visit family members. There were no hugs. We became mask connoisseurs. There were good, bad, and funny masks. There was hand sanitizer that smelled terrible and some that my nose could almost tolerate with a mask on. My hands were permanently chapped from the rubbing alcohol. Soap and cleaning supplies, and of course, toilet paper, was rationed. Stores quickly sold out of canning supplies and all my home-grown grapes rotted because I could not make jelly.
There were some ups. Our twins graduated from high school, and we moved them into their college dorms. I enjoyed having my husband working from home so we could chat between video calls. It was nice to have human contact. I attended virtual workouts at lunch with my co-workers and my 12-year-old daughter. Her dance classes continued virtually. Our typically overbooked days were suddenly calm, although this static life was also overwhelming. What would we do with our spare time? I slept longer each day because I didn’t have to spend 45 minutes commuting. Our gas bill dropped, and Amazon became a regular at our front door.
Izzy and Luna the Talking Dogs (YouTube: dnrzoo). All photos/Dana L. Trimble.
People all over were adopting pets. We had welcomed two new puppies into our house in early January and suddenly we were home with them all day. Their constant neediness and energy were a welcome distraction. My boss had mentioned she saw someone online who had taught her dog to use recordable buttons to communicate. I decided I might as well try this since I was now home all day. As I sat on video calls the dogs began to use the buttons, often trying to call my attention away from work. Help, mom, outside, pick me up, treat, and hungry requests from the dogs using the buttons became my background noise. I clumsily figured out how to post the videos to YouTube so I could share them with family and friends. I had no idea how many people would appreciate seeing something so lighthearted amidst all the stress of the pandemic.
It became more and more important that we find new ways to get out of the house and still stay safe. We needed sun and exercise. We took the dogs to the park. We walked the Sparks Marina and looked for wildlife. We went to Sand Mountain and visited the petroglyphs and an old Pony Express Station that my husband had helped restore as an Eagle Scout. We went to Chickadee Ridge in Tahoe and pretended we were in a fairy tale with the birds landing on our head and hands. We went to a treetop adventure obstacle course at Lake Tahoe. We bought innertubes and rafted on the Truckee River. We fished at Lake Lahontan. I gardened and did a lot of bird watching and bird photography. I dragged my family out for our overdue annual family photos. They meant a little more this year with the twins leaving for college. I tracked and photographed the Neowise comet for days. We watched the Jupiter and Saturn conjunction. We celebrated the holidays and birthdays on video calls. We also worked on our house to-do list and remodeled a bathroom, reorganized our basement, and tried to declutter. This helped us pass the time and felt productive.
Great Horned Owl parent watching over the two chicks peeking out of the nest box.
Chickadee coming in for landing on hand at Chickadee Ridge
It has now been a year since the pandemic began, and restrictions are just starting to ease up. I am glad that when I packed up my frog tank I did not know how long this would last. One of the frogs did not survive the transfer home, but one did. My office plants are still alive. My wall calendar at work is still set on March 2020. I recently drew a big “X” across the rest of the year. That seemed appropriate. In some ways it feels like a whole year was lost, but there were also many important positives. I learned to have more gratitude. I learned to slow down and cherish those who are really important in my life. The rollercoaster continues, but the twists and turns, and ups and downs, seem to be a little less scary now. While it sometimes feels like this ride has been a blur, it is a year that made us reevaluate and go back to the basics. I will not make the mistake I made last spring and speculate on when things will go back to normal. I hope everyone’s “new normal” will include more gratitude, more patience, more time spent with family and friends, more giving to others, more self-care, and more sunshine.
2020 Family Photo.
Dana L. Trimble is a native Nevadan, raised in Fallon, Nevada. She lives with her husband, Robin, and youngest daughter in Sparks, Nevada. Their older two children are in college. Dana has a Bachelor’s degree in biology from the University of Nevada, Reno, and a Master’s degree in biology from the University of Nebraska, Kearney. She enjoys spending time with her family, being outdoors, and taking photos. Dana works at the Desert Research Institute (DRI) as an Associate Research Scientist and serves as DRI’s Diversity Officer. These two roles provide her with the unique opportunity to do science, as well as bring awareness to critical diversity issues.
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