Why I decided to ruin my own social life

Why I decided to ruin my own social life

By McKenna Zacher The Daily

Art by Milo Nguyen

In early July, my family went on a camping trip to Eastern Washington. It was the first time we were able to get away from home since March and we were excited to have a change of scenery and get outdoors. My brother and I stayed for a few days but drove home a week before my parents ended their trip. The week without my parents went well; we chugged away at our work and kept the house in order.

But that quickly changed. The day my parents were set to be home, I got a call. It was from my mom. From the tears I heard through the phone, I immediately knew something was wrong.

I assumed something happened to one of our dogs, who are notoriously clumsy and mischievous. But that wasn’t it. All too soon, I was thrust back to a moment in November. I was in my dorm, sleeping. My first round of midterms of my freshman year was quickly approaching and I needed all the energy I could get. My slumber was interrupted by a call. I answered the call, annoyed that I was awoken so early. That annoyance quickly changed as my mom spoke.

“Hi, honey. Everything is OK, but your dad is in the hospital,” she said. What? What happened? Did he get into a car crash? Did he fall? My worries about midterms quickly melted away and the worry shifted to a new reality — a reality that was much worse.

My dad had kidney failure and his body went into shock. Thankfully, my mom found him on the floor and was able to get him to the hospital before it was too late (a timeline that was uncomfortably close and hard to think about). He was stable, in the intensive care unit, and tests were showing that the road to recovery was going to be long and hard.

I couldn’t help but feel useless. I wasn’t home, and I hadn’t been in a long time. Should I skip midterms and go home? When was the last time I had told him I loved him? I couldn’t help but constantly mull over these anxious thoughts.

The next day, I took the train home. I saw my dad, weak and small, in the hospital for the first time in what would be a monthlong stay. That November was the scariest time of my life, and it didn’t help that I was apart from my family during it.

My mom’s call in July seemed immediately worse. I was home this time; they were not. Through tears, my mom explained that while they were driving home, something happened to my dad. It wasn’t clear what it was. As soon as she called me to let me know, she hung up.

Immediately, I wanted to drive to the hospital and be able to see my dad — earlier than the last time. But I couldn’t.

Not just because he was in Yakima, three hours away, but because of the pandemic. No one could see him. Instead, he was alone.

In the following days, we found out what happened. My dad had had a seizure and a heart attack. He was alone and in pain, but no one could be there to comfort him.

My dad finally came home after a week alone in the hospital halfway across the state. He was extremely weak, and it was clear that if COVID wasn’t taking over the health care system and using up resources and beds, he would likely still be in the hospital.

It came to light that his immune system was weak and that he fractured his back, meaning that his care was critical. In the following days, my brother, my mom, and I sat down for a family meeting. We talked about how we needed to socially distance as well as we did back in March, sharply limiting who we would see and where we would go, in order to protect my dad’s health.

Suddenly, I was rethinking all of my movements in the last two weeks. On the Fourth of July, I was with a group of six, not social distancing how I should have been. Something I scarcely thought about at the time was now making me think that I could have killed my dad when I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek as he slept the first night he was home.

From then on, I have had to make a lot of hard decisions. I signed away my lease in Seattle, deciding that I needed to be away from any environments where a COVID outbreak could occur so that I could be home without endangering my family. I’ve had to isolate myself from my friends, who aren’t social distancing. And I have spent a lot of time grieving the loss of friendships, outings, and social life. But ultimately, I would much rather have my dad be alive than go to a kickback.

Ultimately, I would much rather have my dad be alive than go to a kickback.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s frustrating. I spent months looking for a place to live, planning what furniture I could upcycle, talking with my roommates about appliances, and even paying a down payment of $2,000.

I want independence, I want to see my friends, I want to travel, I want to go to school. But I can’t. And I won’t be able to until this pandemic is over.

My dad is now recovering well, but like many of my peers’ parents, he remains at high risk for a bad outcome from COVID. It’s challenging to see my peers, and even my friends, partying or hanging out with different people all the time. I know it’s hard to be isolated; I’d much rather be out and about too. But, when I see others go out all the time and not be responsible, it’s disheartening.

It’s the worst type of jealousy — it feels like while I’m doing all the hard work, others who are engaging in more risky behaviors are putting us two steps backward again. They don’t understand the impact it can have, even apart from the actual illness, like mental health struggles or social isolation. Not to mention that even healthy young people can have bad COVID outcomes.

Don’t just think about the effects COVID-19 could have on “old people” — recognize that even your parents can be at high risk. I’ve had to isolate myself from my social circle, and it feels like I’m being forgotten about because I’m trying to keep myself or someone else safe.

This pandemic seems to have no end in sight, at least for the near future. America’s massive failure in containing the pandemic comes down to the fault of the government and systems, not us. But where the government failed, we can step in and help reduce the spread of the virus. As colleges reopen and students return to campus for the school year, it’s more important than ever to remember the impact of this pandemic. Remember that it doesn’t just have an effect on those who have it.

Reach writer McKenna Zacher at pacificwave@ dailyuw.com Twitter: @mckennazacher