Wish You Were Here(108)

I’m pretty sure I’m the only person so far cataloging these experiences, because there’s much more important stuff we need to know about Covid, but I found it fascinating that these dreams could mostly be categorized into four types: something involving a basement, an experience of restraint or kidnapping, a dead loved one reappearing, or a loved one dying (who, when the Covid patient returned to consciousness, turned out to be very much alive). The lucid dreams of my interview subjects became the Facebook posts that Diana reads. Caroline Leavitt, an author I love, has written multiple times about her own experience in a medically induced coma, and shared details with me about this “other place” she still visits in her sleep sometimes—where she is not a writer but a teacher; where she is unmarried; where she looks different but knows it’s her; where she has spent years. There are all sorts of explanations for these lucid, unconscious experiences—the bottom line is that we just don’t know enough about the brain to understand why they happen and what they mean.

The last question I asked each of my interview subjects was How has this experience changed the way you think about the rest of your life?

Their responses brought me right back to the concept of isolation. When you find yourself utterly alone—on a rocky outcropping or on a ventilator—the only place to find strength is in yourself. As one woman told me, “I’m not looking for anything outside of me anymore. I’m like, this is it. I’ve got everything I need.” Whether or not we have been hospitalized for Covid in the past year, we all have a much clearer sense of what matters. Go figure—it’s not the promotion, or the raise, or the fancy car, or the private jet. It’s not getting into an Ivy League school or completing an Ironman or being famous. It’s not adding an extra shift or staying late because your boss expects it of you. Instead, it is taking the time to see how beautiful frost looks on a window. It’s being able to hug your mom or hold your grandchild. It’s having no expectations but taking nothing for granted. It’s understanding that an extra hour at your desk is an hour you don’t spend throwing a ball with your kid. It’s realizing that we could wake up tomorrow and the world could shut down. It’s knowing that at the very end of life, no matter what your net worth is and the length of your CV, the only thing you want is someone beside you, holding your hand.

When I try to make sense of the past year, it feels to me like the world pressed pause. When we stopped moving, we noticed that the ways we have chosen to validate ourselves are lists of items or experiences we need to have, goals that are monetary or mercenary. Now, I’m wondering why those were ever even goals. We don’t need those things to feel whole. We need to wake up in the morning. We need our bodies to function. We need to enjoy a meal. We need a roof over our head. We need to surround ourselves with people we love. We need to take the wins in a much smaller way.

And we need to remember this, even when we’re no longer in a pandemic.

—Jodi Picoult, March 2021





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


I’m known for being a fast writer, but I think I broke a land-speed record with this book. It would not have been possible without the help of the following people:

For refreshing my memory about the Galápagos: Ian Melvin, Karen Jacome, Ernesto Velarde. (NOTE: Although Isabela Island did indeed close to visitors, it happened on March 17, 2020—not March 15, as in this book. That’s my fictional prerogative, rather than the failure of my experts!)

For insight into what it was like to work as a medical professional during Covid: Dr. Barry Nathanson, Dr. Kim Coros, Dr. Vladislav Fomin, Carrie Munson, Kathleen Fike, Meghan Bohlender, Dr. Grecia Rico, Dr. Ema-Lou Ranger, Dr. Alli Hyatt, Dr. Samantha Ruff, Meghan Summerall, Kendal Peters, Megan Brown, Lewis Simpson, Stefanie Ryan, Jennifer Langford, Meagan Campuzano, Dr. Francisco Ramos.

For sharing her imaginary town with me (and for her openness, her honesty, and her wonderful talent as a writer): Caroline Leavitt.

For helping me kill someone via scuba: Christopher Crowley.

For frantic texts about New York City and the geography of Central Park: Dan Mertzlufft.

For teaching me about art therapy, and adolescents who self-harm: Dr. Sriya Bhattacharyya.

For teaching me about art, art business, and creating a remarkably convincing faux Toulouse-Lautrec (and also for loving my son Jake): Melanie Borinstein.

For being survivors, and for their candor about what it’s like to have severe Covid: Vicki Judd, Kabria Newkirk, Caroline Coster, Karen Burke-Bible, Chris Hansen, Don Gillmer, Lisa and Howard Brown, Felix Torres, Matt Tepperman, Shirley Archambault, Alisha Hiebert, Jennifer Watters, Pat Conner, Jeri Hall, Allison Stannard, Sue McCann, LaDonna Cash, Sandra and Reggie McAllister, Teresa Cunningham, Katie White, Lisa Dillon, Nancee Seitz.

For introducing me to tsunami stones: Dr. Daniel Collison.

For plotting fictional deaths while on insufferable hills, and for being in my Covid walking bubble: Joan Collison, Barb Kline-Schoder, Kirsty DePree, Jan Peltzer.

For encouraging me to write this when I kept saying I probably shouldn’t, and/or for reading early drafts: Brigid Kemmerer (who is the best critique partner), Jojo Moyes, Reba Gordon, Katie Desmond, Jane Picoult, Elyssa Samsel.

Now on to the MVPs of publishing. Creating a book takes a long time. It’s not just the writing, it’s the editing and copyediting and design and marketing and placement and all the other things that have to happen so you can read it. One day in March I showed up in my editor’s inbox with an email that said, Surprise, here’s a book I never planned to write! Jennifer Hershey, who is the world’s most brilliant editor and fiercest cheerleader, reacted in the best possible way: she loved the book, and she wanted to publish it while we were all still trying to wrap our heads around this past year. My agent/friend/partner-in-crime, Laura Gross, was equally instrumental in achieving this Herculean feat. My publicist, Susan Corcoran, has the biggest heart and the sharpest mind and I would not do any of this without her by my side. And then there is the rest of the well-oiled Ballantine machine, which made this publication possible in record time: Gina Centrello, Kara Walsh, Kim Hovey, Deb Aroff, Rachel Kind, Denise Cronin, Scott Shannon, Matthew Schwartz, Theresa Zoro, Kelly Chian, Paolo Pepe, Erin Kane, Kathleen Quinlan, Corina Diez, Emily Isayeff, Maya Franson, Angie Campusano. You are my army, and that makes me feel invincible.