How do you know that you’ve stayed too long for lunch? When the waitress presents you with the same, identical tab, twice.

The conversation, which had been fostered from various years of Facebook followings and interactions between me and Cystic Fibrosis Warrior Stephanie Santana, led to that overstay at an eatery near her town in the Florida Keys. I had admired Stephanie over time for her personality, her talent, her tenacity, and her zest for being unique. 

It’s been thirty-eight days since my family has ventured out of the neighborhood. Thirty-eight days since the kids have shot hoops with their friends. Thirty-eight days since they’ve played catch, colored the sidewalk, or done anything with anyone even remotely their age. Thirty-eight days of Mom’s non-award-winning cooking, Dad’s mildly successful attempts at sibling mediation, and the keen knowledge that anyone approaching our end of the cul-de-sac is to be avoided at all costs.

We are months into the COVID-19 outbreak in the United States and we are all experiencing a range of emotions. Everyone’s experiences, emotions and thoughts are unique to their own situation. I’ve found myself to be weirdly prepared for this situation. No, I’m not a paranoid doomsday prepper but because having CF for 26 years has, in a way, trained me for this lifestyle change that we are all facing together.

A few weeks ago the world shifted. In reality it had already been shifting for months, as the first case of coronavirus was reported on November 17th, 2019, in China. It would be months before people, myself included, understood the seriousness of it though, worldwide. But on November 17th while that was happening on the otherside of the world, we were celebrating my son’s second birthday. For the next three and a half months life went on as usual.