I’m a theatre kid at heart. While I didn’t have the stereotypical theatre kid experience due to my small private school (my graduating class had 13 and doubled the # of alumni), I’m a person who has been privileged enough to see a wife variety of live theatre performances, from and even experiencing shows internationally.… Continue reading Snobbery Series: Dear Evan Hansen
Sleep
His snoring slumber rocks me to sleep. His sleep apnea breaths:in and out—in and out and in and out and in—and out— I think about the nights I’ll never know but he’s all too familiar with, the nights that will forever haunt the corners of our dreams in very different ways; The nights that he couldn’t… Continue reading Sleep
A Moment, Part 2
What happens in a moment? Two weeks later and finally removed from the ICU fishbowl, I was in his territory. My nurse actually knew him and had heard through the grapevine that we were sick. I asked if he could come visit me. She said she would ask the charge. The charge stopped by my… Continue reading A Moment, Part 2
Posts 6-10
Back in July and August of this year, I posted a few "COVID reflections" to Facebook and Instagram with the intention of creating art to process the one-year anniversary of that experience. The concept for this project had been coming together over the past year. It would involve a day-by-day account of each step in… Continue reading Posts 6-10
A Moment
A picture is a moment trapped in time. One second, one moment. A single snap. You could “blink and you’d miss it,” but instead it’s for the ages. What happens in a moment? A heart beats. An eye blinks. A tear falls. Our eyes are locked, there’s him and there’s me and this moment. The… Continue reading A Moment
/əˈwāk/
regain consciousness. I know where I am. I know why I’m here. It takes everything I have to move my hand even a little. The nurse tells me it’s August 10. I don’t believe her. The last day I remember is July 30. She plugs in my phone. It’s been dead for two weeks. I… Continue reading /əˈwāk/
/breTH/
the air taken into or expelled from the lungs. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe? “Who do we call?” Joshua loves me. All goes black.
/fôɡ/
something that obscures and confuses a situation or someone's thought processes. I knew I couldn’t breathe as soon as I opened my eyes. I got up and managed to walk to the bathroom. I came back to bed and Joshua got the pulse oximeter. He told me to try to cough, but I couldn’t. I… Continue reading /fôɡ/
/ˌīsəˈlāSH(ə)n/
the process or fact of isolating or being isolated. On July 22, 2020, I received my positive test for COVID-19. No shock. Joshua had already tested positive on July 20, and I was already pretty sick. I had a consistently high fever, had developed a cough, and had lost my ability to taste and smell.… Continue reading /ˌīsəˈlāSH(ə)n/
/ˈpresəpəs/
a very steep rock face or cliff, especially a tall one. One year ago, we were on the edge. We had no idea what would happen when, one year ago today, Joshua woke up to an extremely high fever and difficulty breathing. We didn’t know that he would test positive with COVID-19 and then I… Continue reading /ˈpresəpəs/
Alli U. Romack 
