Marquette University Intimations Project

Dakota T. McFarren

I sat on my bed in my studio apartment watching my missed assignments pile up. But truth be told they were the last thing on my mind. As a self-proclaimed hypochondriac, last year was like something akin to a living hell. Though, I suppose it was for everyone. I called out of work because I was terrified of the virus. Maybe a hospital security guard was not such a good college job in the middle of a worldwide pandemic, but I had already worked there for the past two years. I quickly discovered that staying home in my apartment alone was worse than anything I would see at work. Isolation and anxiety make for lousy roommates.

Eventually I forced myself to go back and work because of bills, I guess. There I spent my nights putting on protective equipment to go into Covid positive patient rooms and control aggressive patients, who just like me only wanted to get out and away from the current reality. When I wasn’t doing this, I was explaining to visitors that “I’m sorry due to policy you cannot go to see your dying loved ones.” Or sometimes trying to help an elderly woman who spoke little English learn how to use Zoom, so she could see her dying husband’s face at least one more time. Then once the patient finally expired, and was taken by the virus, I would bring them down to the morgue. A place where they would again be isolated from even the other deceased. The virus left people truly alone, those living, and even the dead.

So, while trying to manage work related stress, I left my scholarly responsibility behind, there’s always September. I would subsequently fail two of my five classes that semester, my price to pay for not being able to stay on top of things the way other people could. I questioned my will for the first time in my life. I had overcome all kinds of things, High school, five years in the Navy, and having a daughter with a stranger and securing partial custody. But now I felt like I was crumbling like I could not do it. On top of it all, my time spent with my daughter had to be over facetime because her mother was afraid of my passing the virus from my job to them, so my visiting her became impossible. My family all live back East in Vermont, and unfortunately as of writing this I’ve still yet to see them because of the Pandemic. I was truly and completely alone here at the worst possible time. Yet still I was upset at myself for failing the way that I had. 

When the next semester came around in September, I told myself that there was no way that I could fail this time. I suppose things were better, I was able to see my daughter again, I had a roommate now, and I was establishing a relationship with my now girlfriend. I started strong and kept my head up as I juggled school, work, family, and friends. Still, things seemed to get in the way and my anxiety had lingered. There was something about virtual learning that held me back significantly, I could not keep up and again I fell behind. 

When December hit and the semester was over, I saw my grades. My advisor emailed me to inform me that unfortunately, I was now ineligible to student-teach in the Spring of 2021. I was crushed, I felt as though I let everyone including myself down. It was almost like I was wrong about myself throughout my entire life. I thought I was the strong one, I thought I was the rock, weathered but sturdy, but I was finally swept away by this storm. 

I quit my security job and reached out to an old friend from the Navy in Arizona and told him I was coming. He was shocked but excited and explained that I would stay at his house and we would have a great time. I needed a drastic change to find out how to regain my strength. 

I packed a bag and drove 2000 miles to his house, I slept in my car freezing in Nebraska, and Colorado, but two days later I had finally arrived. The drive in a way was healing, I watched the snow-covered plains of middle America roll through my driver side window. I stared in awe of the great mountains in Colorado and New Mexico. I breathed in the dry desert air of Arizona. The trip was enjoyable, and I felt equip to finally fight back. Good timing too because I needed it.

A dreadful drive back, and relentless coughing revealed something painfully obvious to me. I had finally been caught by Covid. A test once I arrived back in Milwaukee solidified it and I spent a Merry Christmas at home unable to smell my Christmas tree. But there was something different about me this time. I was not as scared of the virus anymore, I had faith that things would be alright in the end. 

After recovering from Covid, I decided I was done being alone and made the manic decision to buy the puppy I have always wanted. I brought my best-friend Raul home, and he has been nothing but great since. So, in the occurrence of another worldwide catastrophe at least I have a furry partner in-crime to count on to cheer me up. I would finally convince my girlfriend to date me during this period and begin to warm up to the idea of taking class online. 

I guess when I look back on things now, I have learned so much in the past year. It has given me incredible insight that I may not have been able to experience in an entire lifetime. More than ever, I am understanding the importance of the people and events in our lives. I cannot wait around to see the country through the lens of a solo road trip. I cannot wait around to bring home the puppy I have always wanted. I have really learned to live in the now and to make the things I want happen. I am done letting anxieties, and isolation win. I plan to move forward embracing life and operating on whatever timeline I can manage. No one is here forever, and I want to make sure that when it is my time to be brought down to the morgue like the gentleman I mentioned earlier, that I do not regret the life that I have lived. I am only one story, and I yearn to explore more as people open up about their experiences this past year. All over the planet we are struggling, but we are surviving. We are the resilient contemporaries.