Last week I had meeting with Jack’s support coordinator to organize his plan for the fall — via Zoom, because that’s how we meet with people now.
Although we love our support coordinator (she’s organized, smart, kind AND she returns my phone calls), I got off the phone feeling exhausted and not really sure if we had accomplished anything productive. We kept throwing out dates and ideas and then going back to other dates and ideas. Honestly, I’m not really sure what we came up with or if it makes sense.
The only way I can describe it is as a giant algebra problem without enough information to solve it. Too many variables.
Now that Jack is an adult, he receives a budget, through DDD, to pay for activities. Last winter we’d found a wonderful day program and he was scheduled to start on July 6. We had budgeted for him to attend the program 5 days a week for 6 hours a day and then knew exactly how much we had left for other things like at-home support and a variety of therapies.
Then COVID-19 arrived.
The day program closed and the last we heard they’re hoping to reopen after Labor Day. If life were normal, we could plan accordingly. We would correct the budget and plan to start on September 8 — but life isn’t normal.
Not only does the program not have a definite opening date, they don’t know exactly how they plan to open and whether or not they will be excepting new clients right away. And, this being a new program for us, we’re not sure if we will feel comfortable starting immediately once they open their doors. So many safety concerns. We can’t send Jack until we are completely confident that the program is safe.
BUT what does SAFE mean now?
Perhaps it means that the program is smaller and thoroughly cleaned every day. Perhaps it means they will stagger the hours for their clients, so that social distancing will be easier. Perhaps it means that every client will be provided a one-to-one to help keep everyone socially distanced and wearing masks. Perhaps it means there’s a good vaccine and/or treatment options. Perhaps it means that COVID-19 disappears magically.
Once we decide what SAFE means, Jack might be able to start a day program, but will that be in October or November? It’s more likely that we won’t feel confident until January or February or March or . . . . ahhhhh!
How do we make a plan when we don’t have any dates?
Jack’s budget does provide at-home support and Jack’s caregiver, Maria, (and Anna, when she’s home from school) will continue to work for us, but we need to be careful about how many hours we use. If we use too many hours, we may not have enough in the budget for a day program once we are ready.
Since COVID-19 burst into our lives, I’ve gone through a lot of emotions. For a while, fear was all I could focus on — fear of leaving the house, fear of the groceries carrying germs, fear of opening the mail. Then I went through weeks of being exhausted from washing down groceries and by the energy it took to plan simple outings like going to the post office. Then, I seemed to flip and felt bored and useless — checking off days on the calendar when I couldn’t think of one significant thing that I’d accomplished. Depression was creeping in, and last week’s phone call with our support coordinator didn’t help.
It’s not just the unknown about Jack’s plans. As I look at the next couple of months, we have plans, but know that they are subject to change at any time. Our trip to Block Island, Anna’s return to school, Dan’s office reopening. Everything is fluid these days and it’s starting to really get to me.
Our family is pretty good at adjusting. We’ve been able to zig and zag through a lot of things that have come our way, but the problem is that COVID-19 doesn’t have — even a hint of — a timetable that we can glance at to know when life will return to something that feels normal.
I like to wrap up these posts with some “glass half full” statement or something to make you laugh, but I can’t think of anything today. Sorry. This suck. I hate COVID-19.
Wear a mask. It might not be perfect, but at least it makes many of us feel a little safer.
Okay — I won’t leave you on a bad note. Here’s a fun picture of our new dog, Tupelo.