Today marks 73 days at home in self isolation. Two days ago I had surgery at Stanford Children’s Hospital. Although it was meant to fix my ankle, I learned so much more. People feel restless in their homes, they want nothing more than to leave and be able to act as if everything was normal. They feel as if they can’t go without seeing their friends in person for more than a few weeks. I understand. I miss being able to see my friends, talking to them face to face, and would give the world to hug them. But imagine this. Imagine being stuck in a hospital with no end in sight. You’re so weak you can’t see anyone besides your family, due to being immunocompromised. Everyday you are stuck in a bed, wires connected to you everywhere, and being confined to one room for who knows how many days. That is the reality of people I met at the hospital. Some of them have been in the hospital for six months, yet here we are complaining about being at home for 73 days.

My only hope is for people to be able to realize even when life seems dreadful, there are people who have been experiencing this for almost their whole life. Even if we can’t leave our homes, we are still so fortunate to be able to live the life we do. We get to be with our families, spend time with them, and we have options to facetime, call, or text extended family. Life is beautiful, and it’s whether or not we choose to embrace it for it to become true.