My full spreadsheet with a larger chart is here. Weekly data is released on Thursday at 11:00 AM central.
COVID Chart Comparison
Rare Peace
These two are on each other’s nerves constantly. Constantly. So times like these that they have patience for each other, and clearly are delighting in each other, are pretty amazing. Oliver is very excited for his birthday in eight days, so Maggie is helping him make a paper chain to count down the days. Pretty amazing. 
Sunday Update
Andrew and I have received negative Covid test results, and we are waiting on Maggie and Griffin’s. We will assume if we do not receive a phone call today (which they are doing for all positive cases) that we will get a letter in the mail telling us they are negative. Because they are minors, we did not set up a Health Partners online account, and we thought we had set it up when we got our appointments to test that all of our test results to come to my online account, but that didn’t happen since we know Andrew’s test result went to his online account.
So here’s what we know: our sore throats started a day or two after we found out Oliver had been exposed at school, and before he was tested. We’re sure we can rule out Covid for the sore throats. We also know that Oliver remains asymptomatic. We also know we will continue to quarantine, and check in with our own doctors to get guidance on when that will end, and whether we should get tested again.
We are relieved. We feel lucky, for now. One thing that I’m noticing that is bothering me, perhaps more so now that we have been going through the tumult of having one person in our house Covid positive: there is an awful lot of “Karma’s a bitch” kind of stuff going on when folks who are high profile (and usually anti-mask) test positive. What I know is that we did everything we were supposed to do. We masked. We washed hands. We did not see people willy-nilly without masks on. We did not go to large events. We did not eat in restaurants. We have been ultra-conservative with my parents and not wanting to expose them. We made the decision to let Andrew teach in-person hybrid at school because of all of the precautions they have in place. We made the decision to send Oliver to preschool because of all of the precautions in place. And we still ended up with a Covid positive kid. It bothers me that there are anti-mask folks out there, and I am mad at them and the lack of a unified federal response, and I do think there should be consequences for actions. But what is the solution here? How are we supposed to live like this? No one deserves Covid-19, full stop.
Anyway, I probably have more thoughts on this that I can’t articulate right now. But I wanted to share our relief with those who have been supporting us and caring for us and keeping us in their hearts. We really appreciate the support ❤️ And we especially appreciate all of you in healthcare right now, putting yourselves at risk day after day. We are doing our part by staying home, masking, and not having contact with others. We hope you’ll join us (figuratively, not literally 😜 ). ❤️
Waiting
It’s Saturday, and we’re still awaiting test results for the four of us in the family who got tested on Wednesday. We remain either asymptomatic (Oliver and Griffin), or mild symptoms (Andrew, Sarah, and Maggie) with very mild sore throats and mild headaches that come and go. It’s hard to know if they’re actually symptoms, or if it’s stress, or something else entirely.
I went for a walk alone last night, the first since we found out about Oliver’s exposure on Election Day, and his positive diagnosis a week later on the 10th. From the beginning of this pandemic, I’ve been angry about the way this country has been handling it, sad for the families who have been going through this with loved ones, horrified for those who have experienced deaths of loved ones. And on my walk last night, I felt the weight of it on a more personal level, allowing myself to feel the heartbreak of all of this, while watching an achingly beautiful sunset.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I am. Logically, I know that the odds are with us, but as we’ve seen over and over again, this is an unpredictable virus. I’ve been trying not to let fear get the best of me over the past 8 months. (EIGHT MONTHS.) There really isn’t a usefulness to fear if it drags on for so many months. Fear is supposed to get you out of danger quickly, but this has been going on for far too long for that to be useful. But now that it’s past my doorstep and into my house, it’s hard not to think about what our lives could be in a few short weeks.
Hopefully, we’ll know more soon, but even with a negative or positive diagnosis, it really is just a waiting game. We are trying to eat healthily, sleep when we’re tired, drink lots of fluids, play with each other, and not get on each other’s nerves too much. You know: normal pandemic life. We are grateful for support, love, and offers of help from those around us. Right now, we’re doing ok, and we’ll post more as we know more.
Still overwhelmingly grateful for this life, and the beauty I witness daily.
Stay safe, friends. Stay home. Mask up.
No New News
No change on the home front just yet. Oliver remains free of symptoms. Sarah, Maggie, and I have intermittent sore throats, but nothing that would normally phase us much.
We await our test results as patiently as we can. Today was the first day of the 2–4 day window wherein we expect to hear back. Nothing yet…
This week has been an unusual teaching week for me, involving me teaching classes with students at school while I’m at home. Let me back up and provide a bit of context.
For the past seven weeks at my middle school, students have been in “distance learning” mode on Mondays and Tuesdays. On those days we all stay home and do school via Google Meet, similar to how we did it last spring and for the first few weeks of school in September. On Wednesday through Friday, we’ve been in hybrid mode where most students and teachers go to school. There are lots of policies and procedures to maximize safety (masks, desks six-feet apart, fancy air filters, hand washing and desk cleaning procedures, etc.) but it runs mostly like school used to be.
The only unusual wrinkle is that the students who are at home (for whatever reason—health risks, a family member with COVID, etc.) join the class remotely. We have these funky “Owl” cameras that provide a 360-degree view of the classroom. They zoom in on audio sources (like students or teachers talking in the classroom) and make the remote experience a bit more immersive. Naturally, they don’t always work as intended and there are lots of little issues, but it’s a cool idea.
Until this week, I’ve never really been on the other side of the Owl except when getting some training on them at the beginning of the year. This week, however, since I am in isolation, I attended my classes remotely. It was a strange experience seeing the bulk of my students through the Owl’s camera. We always have another adult in the classroom to help with physical things like collecting work, setting up the camera, managing a break in the middle of class, etc.
With more practice, I expect I would get better at it, but it’s hard to be seated in front of a camera when my students are mostly together in a classroom. I’m usually a pretty mobile teacher, gesturing wildly, jumping around the front of the room, checking on students individually, etc. It’s a lot harder to feel connected when I know that my face is hovering on a big screen at the side of the room.
But, this was a short-lived experiment. Due to skyrocketing COVID rates around the state, my school is going back to full-distance mode next week through at least the middle of January. The metric that Minnesota is using to guide schools is the two-week “cases per 10,000” rate for each county. I’ve been graphing the data for the counties around the Twin Cities (from which we draw the majority of our students). It’s pretty grim. Saint Paul is in Ramsey County and Minneapolis is in Hennepin. (Recently they’ve been nearly identical.)
Chart of cases per 10,000
The state recommends that middle- and high-schools move to full-distance mode if their county rises above 30 cases per 10,000. Elementary schools are also included when they hit 50 cases.
Both Hennepin and Ramsey counties hit 50 by the end of October. Based on daily case figures since then, we are estimated to be at around 70 cases now. In short, it’s a hot mess around here. (If anyone is interested in the raw data, here’s a link to the spreadsheet where I compile the information. It includes a link to the latest PDF from the state.)
That’s it for now. We’ll provide further updates if we learn anything new.
Maggie’s Poem
Dog
Cute, beautiful
Sniffing, running, digging,
Make me feel safe
K-9
Unwelcome Guest
This week we discovered, to our dismay, that we have an interloper in our midst: COVID-19. Here’s how things have played out for us thus far:
- Tuesday, November 3 — receive a call from Oliver’s preschool that there had been a positive case in his classroom. Everyone must stay home for 2 weeks and get tested for COVID in 5–7 days. We’re concerned, but not super-worried.
- Saturday, November 7 — We take Oliver in for a COVID test. He hasn’t had any symptoms, so we’re hopeful that he’ll be negative.
- Tuesday, November 10 — We receive the call that Oliver tested positive. Yikes! We discuss with the doctor how we should quarantine within our house. It sounded more plausible on the phone than it turned out to be in real life. Sequestering an almost-four-year-old isn’t easy.
- Wednesday, November 11 — The rest of the family goes to a drive-through COVID testing clinic. The tests are easy and everything was impressively fast and professional. Results expected in 2–4 days.
Meanwhile, also starting on November 3, I noticed a bit of a scratch in my throat. Not quite a sore throat, but it wasn’t 100% either. Sarah had similar symptoms. I reported this in my health monitoring app for school and they told me to stay home on Tuesday (which was a teach-from-home day anyway). On Wednesday, I felt 100%, so I went to school. Same on Thursday. By Thursday evening, however, my mild sore throat had returned. I attributed it to the dry air, but I reported it on the app in the morning and, out of an abundance of caution, I stayed home again. Sarah was in a similar boat but we weren’t too concerned. This sort of thing happens as winter kicks in.
Once we got the call about Oliver, of course, we started wondering if our throats were indeed related to COVID. Indeed, every stray itch seems like it might be an ominous sign. We can’t be sure until we receive our test results.
At this point, we feel grateful that we are all healthy. Oliver has no symptoms at all. The rest of us have a few mild question marks, but certainly don’t feel sick. We are hopeful that we are either negative or that we’ll be in for a mild brush with the virus. Of course, we are 100% quarantined. I’ll post more as the situation evolves.
And, to my delight, as someone who appreciates a properly dark joke, a friend and colleague from the Bahamas shared this meme with me today (the Bahamian flag is at the bottom):
Halloween 2020
Our COVID Halloween wasn’t as bad as we might have expected. Indeed, at one point today, the kids exclaimed, “This is the best Halloween ever!” A few weeks ago we reluctantly told the kids that we weren’t comfortable going trick-or-treating this year. But, since Halloween was on a Saturday, we could spend the whole day doing Halloween activities. To our surprised delight, the kids were like, “Yeah! Let’s plan a schedule!” And they did. Starting with pumpkin pancakes in the morning. Then making piñatas, hanging lights in the yard, making rice crispy treat monsters, building a fire in the backyard, having our bubble-friends over, eating dinner, smashing piñatas, and finally watching the Over the Garden Wall animated series in the backyard curled up in blankets around the fire.
It might have been my favorite Halloween too…
October Sunrise
Arrrrr!
