#covid19dispatch: I think she was making sure that I was still alive.

One of our storytellers Fresh Johnson describes here Covid-19 experience.

Dear World,

Not to sound like a cliche old timer's story, but it really does feel like just yesterday when I was packing up for a work trip to NYC. I had this dreaded cough that only frequent sips of water could tame. By the time I got the New York, I was in fever mode. I was consistent with my advil and mucinex the entire trip and not once did the Coronavirus cross my mind, because hey, I'm young, healthy and a total snob when it comes to handwashing and Lysol wipes (I stockpile those on a regular day). In fact, when I landed back in New Orleans, the first stop was to CVS for 6 bottles of champagne, almonds, and pistachios; I never really learned how to shop for hunkering down. Not to mention, my anxiety wouldn't survive 5 minutes in a grocery store where shoppers are in a frenzy. Truth be told, I just needed to get home because the body aches and chills were upon me. Shoutout to my girl Nikki for making my first round of groceries. 

I have this funny analogy, where I compare my friends to service animals. In my normal world, I'd have them join me on stressful work or life adventures, just to hug me and assure me that everything will be okay. From L.A., to Kansas, to NYC, we've taken this show on the road...but who knew that the ultimate service friend action would happen over a course of three weeks on my back porch. It was the ultimate love story, featuring endless Halo oranges, cans and cans of soup, fresh flowers, kettle popcorn, 14 pounds of fruit, bottles of Pedialyte, bottles of booze and lots of food that I couldn't taste. The cast consisted of close friends, clients and Instagram friends. Yes, I let strangers come house...well, my back porch. In those moments, everyone became a service friend and it felt like their love kept me pumping. 

There was a darker side though. It dawned on me one day that maybe my mother was facetiming me 3x a day for more reasons than missing me; I think she was making sure that I was still alive. Aside from my 2 dogs, I don't have an in-house family to quarantine myself with, so of course she had every right to worry. The support that I had throughout my sick stint kept ME from worrying though. Even the nights that I slept sitting up, to shake that dreaded difficulty breathing stage, I'd remind myself that I had to wake up and be ready for morning facetime with mom; she doesn't like to be ignored, honey. 

I'm a hugger, who happens to get paid to party for a living, so imagine how hard it was to have all of the movement that keeps business flowing (and me going) come to an abrupt halt. Not only that, but the simple gesture of human touch may never be the same after this. 

Oddly enough, I find value in the stillness. Prior to the quarantine, I used to suffer with paralyzing anxiety every morning. Now? The days are a breeze, outside of the obvious. I feel as though, while our overall recovery won't be a cake walk, and the losses we are experiencing may affect our communities for weeks to come, there's a chance for renewal and regrouping nestled under here somewhere...somewhere. I'm still trying to figure that part out. 

But I will say this...at the very end of the day, I'm just looking forward to telling my kids how I survived The Great Quarantine of 2020 off of Halo mandarin oranges.

Sincerely, 

Fresh Johnson