Senior Isolation

It started with a sore throat in the morning that migrated during the day to my sinuses. I wasn’t too worried about it although my appetite vanished, replaced by low level nausea. Fully vaccinated and having received my yearly flu shot 3 weeks prior, I was pretty sure it was just a nasty cold. The next day I had a fever and bad headache so stayed in bed while trying to remember to drink enough water. Then Colin Powell, former Secretary of State, also fully vaccinated, died at age 84 of COVID-19 complications.

Granted, Powell had underlying conditions that significantly hampered his immune system, but it made me realize I needed to make sure I wasn’t suffering from breakthrough COVID, especially since I have an unvaccinated 10-year-old grandson living nearby. Though my fever and headache abated, I developed an unpleasant cough, so I made an appointment, saw a doctor, and got tested. A day later, though still not feeling out of the woods, I received the results: negative on the virus. Now I just needed to tuck in and get better.

I had let my son and daughter-in-law in on my little, unfolding drama because the day before I got sick, I picked up their oldest son and drove him to choose fabric for a quilt I'm going to make for him. Surely, I was contagious at the time. I also let my granddaughter who had visited me earlier that week know as a precaution since she works at a hospital in L.A. And I let my best friend know, just because she’s my best friend. So even though I was alone, I never felt isolated. I was cared about, watched out for, loved.

This past January I read an article about senior isolation and the effects of loneliness. It said, in part: Nearly one-third of all seniors live by themselves, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. That’s close to 13.8 million seniors aging alone. Senior isolation is both common and dangerous —and while living alone doesn’t inevitably lead to senior loneliness, the two often go hand in hand.

While sick these past few days, the quiet of my home has been comforting, my bed a welcome refuge. My son and daughter-in-law texted me regularly as did my granddaughter, my best friend offered to order food delivered to my door if I felt I needed it, and I knew I could count on my daughter and son-in-law who live ½ mile away for anything I might require. I slept a lot, ate little, watched some fascinating documentaries. So, though getting older by the day and living by myself, I realize afresh how fortunate I really am.