Togetherness
Today was a day that was filled with joy, with dread, and with milestones.
Today was the day in which my fellow Singapore Air flight 37 passengers and I would get a taste of in-person social interactions for the first time in a week and a half.
Today was the day of the highly debatable, extremely questionable in efficacy, PCR test.
That means it is day 11 of the 14 days Stay Home Notice.
That means that there are 72 hours and change remaining in this period of nearly total isolation, with the exception of my forlorn shouts “hello” and “thank you” to the lovely people who drop off meals and deliveries a reliable three times a day. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve created a game with myself, stemming from two parts boredom, three parts innately-driven need for human connection, to catch them in the hallway before they disappear around a corner to thank them personally and sincerely. I am conflicted in reporting that they win most of the time.
Sure, there have been phone calls and FaceTimes, and Instagram stories, but that doesn’t even begin to cover what it is like to have an in-person conversation in which the energy of the other party is palpable in your very field.
All of the social media in the world doesn’t make up for being in the same space as others who are going through a like or comparable experience as you, and having a moment of peace knowing that there is no need to explain anything in their presence.
My COVID test was scheduled for 11:15am on Wednesday, November 18. On day 11. Initially, I was told that I would be responsible for supplying my own transportation to the test site, which got me rather excited that I was going to have the opportunity to leave the hotel and catch a moment of fresh (well, very humid) air for the first time in days and days. However, this was not the case as my instructions that coupled my time slot specified that my test would be done on the second floor of the Capri Hotel, and that I was to descend via the guest elevator at this time.
I can’t lie, my heart sank a little knowing that the very floor I had been pounding on through the duration of all of my workouts these last 11 days was also the ceiling of the very place I was to go to take the test.
Bummer.
Milestone, I continued to think to myself. However, I would like to be totally transparent in saying I harbored a tremendous amount of dread for this PCR, given that the efficacy of this test is highly debatable, depending on who you ask. A friend of mine posted something on Instagram today that sums this who debacle up beautifully in saying that “most facts are based on opinions”, and with this I couldn’t agree more—for both sides of this matter.
While I knew this test wouldn’t be painful, per se, I knew that it would be uncomfortable. Which sometimes feels worse. Nonetheless, I focused on the fact that no matter how uncomfortable this test would be, it would be brief, and better yet, everyone had come out alive on the other side.
Phew! Can cross fear of death off the list of qualms with said PCR.
In chiropractic school, one of my favorite classes was anatomy, specifically anatomy lab. At the risk of being too exposing, there was a week in lab in which we took literal bone saws and cut vertically through the skull just behind the ears. I will never forget the breathtaking image I saw after my lab partners and I opened up the pieces of the skull like an oyster shell, revealing the marvelous and ornate beauty of what could be identified as our sinuses and nasal passages. Nature did one hell of a job. The insides of our noses are shaped like sea shells (hence, the anatomical name of nasal conchae), an ultimate reminder that we are so connected to everything else on this planet. The fractal imagery that lies within each of us, that I was so fortunate to visualize in front of my very eyes, is magnificent beyond words. I had never seen anything like it.
So in the swift moments approaching this test, this is what my brain was focused on. The beautiful anatomy, and how something so exquisitely designed works every second of every day in tandem with our immune systems to help keep us adaptable and resilient, preventing most of us from feeling any semblance of repercussions from potential bacterial invaders, viruses, and toxins.
I was finishing up my workout, when around 11am, I got a call from the front desk asking for my daily temperature reading (see The Privacy Debacle for more detail on temperature checks, surveillance, and COVID regulations here in Singapore), after which they asked if I could come down now for my test. I hastily changed out of my sweaty clothes, grabbed my passport, my phone, and my mask and headed out the door sans room key, as it is one-time use type of thing anyways to ensure that no one is leaving their rooms.
I did my best to lead with excitement knowing that in just moments I would get to have what would feel like intimate social interaction. This moment came sooner than I expected, as I joined another man in the elevator. We descended together from floor three to two, obviously heading to the same place. We both looked at each other and shared a mutual grin and chuckle for montage of eat, sleep, shower, work, repeat that had been our lives the last 11 days. He spoke with what appeared to me to be an Australian accent, telling me he really couldn’t wait to get out of here. I told him that this experience certainly could’ve been worse, but it’s not something that I want to do again any time in the near future.
Feeling content from this mutual exchange of camaraderie and understanding, we disembarked and were guided to the left by a man in more or less a full on hazmat suit. Initial identification was verified, and we were both passed onwards to the official testing check-in.
My new pal, or makker, went first. He was asked for his Singaporean work pass number, full name, and nationality. He hands over a Norwegian passport. At which point, the words flew out of my mouth without an ounce of voluntary control: “No way! From what part of Norway? I moved here from Norway!” Choosing to leave out the details of the time between Norway and now, as it was completely irrelevant in this moment. He told me he was from Stavanger, which is on the west coast of Norway—a place I hadn’t had the pleasure of visiting, but one I had heard great things about. I told him I had lived in Oslo for six months and that it was really a great experience and a beautiful place to live. It was an impromptu moment of synchronicity to share with a total stranger after not having had anything of the sort in nearly two weeks.
It is my turn to give my information, after which I proceed into the testing room.
The tester could sense my nerves, as he asked me if I was my first time taking this test.
As I do, I quipped back: “What? That obvious?”
He told me it’s not painful, just uncomfortable, like getting water up your nose. Who actually wants to experience that willingly?
I thought to myself, if only you knew what craniofacial release is and that I’ve had it done two times prior. Now that is pretty gnarly. But that was willingly and because it promoted health and vitality, not tested for a lack of it. (For those that do not know, craniofacial release is the process by which an uninflated balloon is maneuvered into specific sinus cavities in the face with the goal of inflating said balloon quickly, expanding the cranium by way of the sinuses, and quickly deflating and removing the balloon—Thanks Cathrine!) Obviously, I kept this and my knowledge of the cranial anatomy to myself.
I sat still, I breathed through my mouth, I did what I needed to do to move suavely through this dreaded milestone so I could be uncaged and set to roam free in some three days.
Preparing to leave the room, I saw a girl that I had met moving through customs upon entry into Singapore. It felt oddly good to see a relatively “familiar” face. I wondered how her time had been in this quarantine. At the airport she had told me her name was Shivani. She was originally from South Africa, but was living in Singapore now working as a lawyer after time in both New York and London. We instantly clicked. My new friend had told me she would wait for me on the other side of customs, however my paperwork got held up so I assumed she had been herded onto a shuttle bus and didn’t have the opportunity to withstand my delay. No hard feelings.
Seeing her in line, I said hello and got out my phone to exchange numbers. She gave me hers and I quickly typed it into my phone with the intention to save it once in the elevator to ascend once again up to my last days of solitary confinement. I was so excited to have crossed paths with what could turn into my first organically-made friend in Singapore.
I moved around the corner to receive a new room key from a hotel worker, at which point I locked my phone. I almost immediately realized that the number of my new friend had just been lost into the abyss of unsaved items, as this is a glitch in iPhones that drives me absolutely bonkers. I had been so enlivened at the prospect of texting her and eventually meeting up in a moment of real life outside of quarantine, and it had all just seemingly come crashing down.
The ups and the downs, I tell ya!
I graciously accept my new room key and proceed to the elevator.
I joined another woman who had been tested adjacent to me. Similar to my first elevator comrade, her and I looked at each other, both of us still wiping our eyes from the reflex of the lacrimal gland to spout water like nobody’s business, and we broke out into wholehearted laughter.
Again, there is just something about this shared experience, even with total strangers. We have all had this unique moment in our lives to pause, for at least some moments of the day. To sit with what comes up, to face it or run from it, but regardless, to know that there is something that could be dealt with if we choose to move down that road.
There is something about eating these meals alone, that is such a valiant reminder of the joy of eating in companionship with another, let alone a group. Tasting the same tastes. Smelling the same smells. Sampling and discussing the heart and soul that went into the very preparation of that meal.
There is something about saying goodnight to flatmates or a partner or family in person. A warmth, and sincerity that comes with those moments that we so often take for granted.
The same when we wake up in the morning. Genuinely asking someone how they slept, despite already knowing based on how placatory their energy is or is not.
There is something so special about putting on an outfit you love and letting the inner and outer confidence permeate the energy of the people strutting in the streets and on the sidewalks next to you.
There is something about sharing a hug with someone, embracing one another in a reassuring, accepting physical contact.
There is something about getting to pet and caress and squeeze the animals that are so beloved to us, as opposed to merely looking at them lovingly on FaceTime or in photos.
But for this moment, the elevator was the best we had.
So we took this time, to laugh together as complete strangers. To be with another human being, who may or may not have faced demons in these last 11 days. To enjoy company who was equally as happy to be anywhere but inside the four walls that had contained us for the duration of our time in this hotel. To stand together in the knowingness that this micro moment of social interaction meant that the our stay here is so close to being over. To acknowledge one another for showing up in this current moment with grace and courage.
This moment was pure. It was genuine. It was heartfelt. And it was beautiful.
I was just regretful that it couldn’t last longer, as I only had one to climb before I reached by final destination.
The elevator dinged, it was my stop. We shared one last laugh, one last moment of really pure connection on a human level, wished each other luck, and off I went, back to my quarters.
This whole experience has been a such a beautiful reminder that it is okay to take time alone, but when we find someone or a group of people who really are just so wonderful, it is so important to take advantage of time spent with that person.
Say good morning and goodnight to your people with full presence.
Eat your meals together, slowly and intentionally, discussing what it means to get to share that experience together.
Share your abundant energy with your friends, family, partner in person when it is palpable and you have extra to give, especially if someone you love may be needing an in-person pick-me-up.
Hug that friend who may be needing it a little extra today. I guarantee it has the potential to turn an entire day around—for you, as well as for them.
Take your dogs on that extra walk, or pet them a little longer rubbing them in that special spot under their chin that they love so much.
Cherish the moments of togetherness, of total presence.
Yes, I know, we have had potentially a lot of togetherness in the past 8 months. Maybe more than we ever wanted. In this case, find the small things that can be appreciated about time with your person or your people. Because I can guarantee you, life would not be the same without them.
