Two Fridays ago, Weld County marked its 100th confirmed death from COVID-19. By this Friday, it’s in the neighborhood of 2,000 confirmed positive cases. Likely thousands more have gone undiagnosed.
But, as people die, hundreds of thousands more live, conducting business one way or another in the upside-down world of quarantine and pandemic. As politicians fight over whether Coloradans should be safer at home or at work, everyday people muscle forward, besought by the challenge of adapting to unprecedented changes.
Some are losing loved ones. Others are working to save them. Some are finding ways to keep the lightbulbs on in the brains of those they serve. Others are working to keep the lights on.
A respiratory therapist in a COVID-19 ward; a town manager; a high school athlete; a college professor; a schoolteacher; a librarian; an immunocompromised woman; and the daughter of a dead man — all are fighting different fights, together alone. All are finding their way through what’s been coined the “new normal.”
These are the stories of eight Weld County residents who agreed to share a day in their lives with the reporters of the Greeley Tribune.
Keeping people alive, herself included
If anyone knows the challenges the COVID-19 pandemic has presented, it’s the people working in the health care industry.
Faced with extremely sick patients suffering from a complicated and slippery virus, health care workers like Banner respiratory therapist Chivas Gacita are experiencing a much different type of work environment prior to the virus sweeping across the U.S.
“It’s different to walk around the halls of the hospital and see everyone wearing masks. I’m finding that the people who are hard of hearing can’t read lips through the mask and it makes it harder to try and communicate,” she explained. “I still try to spend time with my patients, but it’s becoming more aware that we have to assume everyone who comes in has COVID. This is the ‘just in case’ thought that now runs through my mind.”
Working 12-hours shifts, Gacita started her day on April 23 with reviewing reports from the night shift.
After reviewing the reports, Gacita grabs some scrubs and begins the arduous task of donning personal protective equipment or PPE.
“I get changed and pull my hair back. I check my N95 mask to make sure it is in good condition and place it on my face,” Gacita said. “Before entering each room I have to put on my gown, gloves, and face shield.”
Once gowned, gloved and shielded, the real work begins.
Gacita begins her rounds rotating through the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) as well as other floors of the hospital, checking patients’ tube placements and ventilator settings, determining how she can wake certain patients up in hopes of getting the off the ventilator and when other patients will be able to be turned onto their stomachs.
“We have been taping everything to the glass on the doors so we don’t have to bring anything out with us,” she said. “As soon as I’m done with that patient I take off all of my PPE except my N95 mask, wash my hands and wipe down my face shield.”
Gacita then completes the patient chart, adding in notes, observations and other helpful and critical information before repeating the same steps over and over for every patient she sees.
Around 9:30 a.m. Gacita and other respiratory therapists meet with doctors to discuss patients and form care plans the team will implement for patients. These meetings can last anywhere from 20 to 90 minutes, depending on the number of patients and doctors.
After the meeting, Gacita turns her focus back to her patients, removing breathing tubes, helping with intubations, setting up equipment and charting.
“When we extubate, remove the breathing tube, we play a small clip of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ to let the other staff know that we successfully got another COVID patient off of the ventilator,” she said.
In between her work, Gacita has to fit in time to pump since she is still breast-feeding.
“My team has been really helpful in making sure I get that time,” Gacita said. “The day goes so fast because you are constantly playing catch up. By the time you feel you have your work done, night shift is there and ready for report. There have been days that I had to eat as fast as I could because they needed me back in the ICU.”
Some of the things Gacita misses most about her work prior to COVID-19 is being able to have the time to sit and talk with her patients.
“I’m finding that with how busy we are I don’t have the time to spend with people and getting to know them,” Gacita said. “Minus the fact that most, if not all, of my patients I see anymore are on a ventilator.”
Where Gacita once strived to be as informed as she could by constantly watching the news, she now focuses on her family and taking advantage of her days off to decompress from work.
“I do a lot of crafting to keep my mind busy and a lot of playing with my kids. I have found peace in drinking a hot cup of tea and reading the same book over and over to my almost 3 year old,” she explained. “My husband is very supportive and rubs my neck for me and cooks me dinner. I try to focus on the positives of the day and what the next day will bring.”
So what are her hopes for the future in dealing with a possible resurgence of the coronavirus or another viral pandemic?
“I hope that we learn from this. More than just the understanding of how COVID works but how we can move forward with keeping everyone safe,” Gacita said. “I hope that the fear of COVID turns more into a remembered thought and that we can live in the moment and not in fear of a person who coughs.”
— Tamara Markard
Separated from a team, an athlete stays an athlete
A little more than a month ago, Greeley students were on school campuses. They now do school work online, and seniors, expecting to have the picture-perfect high school ending, have learned to cope with changes caused by the coronavirus.
Northridge track and field senior Natasha Perales created a regular routine for school work, exercise and personal time to maintain structure during COVID-19.
Perales woke up Tuesday, April 28, and ate breakfast before Grizzly Advisory, a grade-specific class focusing on student development. After the class’ conclusion, she often runs, plays with her dogs or does homework before the remaining classes begin on Schoology.
Schoology assists schools with virtual learning, using video conferencing and other tools. Perales sees her teachers on the video platform and even completed one class on Tuesday.
Her teacher expressed pride in the students for finishing, especially due to COVID-19. The senior knew she’d feel some sadness as her high school years came to a close, and that was the case, but this felt different.
“It doesn’t feel like I have finished it, because there’s almost no closure,” Perales said of the online format. “I’m just being told I finished it. There won’t be a rite of passage at the school where we leave the gym for the last time, watch our banner get raised and say bye to our teachers. It just feels weird that we won’t all be at the school and leaving at the same time as high schoolers.”
Perales continued the day with lunch and a five-mile run. This doesn’t always happen in the afternoon. She also performed a virtual workout with her mom and aunt, who participated via video call.
Exercising during the coronavirus quarantine is definitely different, Perales said. Track practice took place almost immediately after school for about two hours when classes were on campus. Now, she holds herself accountable.
The Colorado High School Activities Association canceled spring sports last week. Perales, like most athletes, was initially disappointed. Now, however, she focuses on school and a strict workout regimen. Perales will attend the University of Northern Colorado in the fall and hopes to join its track and cross country teams.
“It’s harder now, because I have to get myself out. To do sprints and stuff, you have to motivate yourself on your own, which is a little bit difficult,” Perales said. She also only has three hurdles to practice with instead of a full set. “It’s better than nothing, but I’m doing what I can on my own.”
Perales ended her day with dinner, playtime with her dogs and a bit more homework. She’ll do it all again the next day and maybe unofficially break a track record.
Classes remain in session for several more weeks. Perales and her family will celebrate when they end. Hopefully this will create a semblance of normalcy, though graduation won’t take place until July 30, if then.
“I feel like I’ll be in an in-between this summer,” Perales said. “I (will have) finished high school and am now a college student, but I’m not officially a college student or done because I won’t walk the stage and receive my diploma until the end of July.”
— Jadyn Watson-Fisher
Moving town and Town Hall forward
A town manager’s work never stops — least of all during a crisis.
While much of Windsor town manager Shane Hale’s business these days is conducted from the comfort of his own bedroom, he’s got his fingers in every facet of the town’s doings. Thursday, April 30, was no exception.
Hale’s day started at home. After a morning run to clear the cobwebs and get centered, he got a later start than usual — work didn’t begin until a little before 8 a.m., while often he’s at it as much as an hour and a half earlier.
The first of many meetings Thursday was economic development, with the director of that department, Stacy Miller.
“We’re trying to put a lot of brain power and thought behind what can we do as a municipality to support our business community? Where can we put our resources?” Hale said. “That’s been a big push of (newly sworn-in) mayor (Paul) Rennemeyer.”
Work continued throughout the morning on a project that would climax with an evening town board orientation, before Hale spoke with the chief of police for the first of two conversations, this one about school resource officers and the colors of police fleet cars.
“It sounds trivial, but I think it’s an important conversation to have,” Hale said. “People need to know if they’ve got a Windsor Police Officer pulling them over that it’s a real officer.”
Then a late-morning jaunt over from his Windsor home to Town Hall near downtown gave Hale a chance to check mail.
Then it was time to officially cancel some events — never fun, but part of the new reality.
“Windsor really is a very communal, supportive, outgoing community,” Hale said. “It’s not only that it gives me pride to have these great events, but it gives me personal enjoyment, too. Leave work, go straight to the park and meet my wife. It’s disappointing professionally and personally, but I also guess, in the big picture, it’s short-term. It’s better for the long-term health of everybody, and it’s not really much of a decision to be made.”
Another meeting with the chief of police — budget conversations in a tighter era than expected — and a discussion about lightbulbs, of all things. The town wants to buy the street lights that they currently pay the power company for and to replace the old bulbs with L.E.D. It’s a smart investment. But it’s probably not the right time, Hale said.
“With the COVID situation, It doesn’t feel like the best place to put cash,” he said.
As the morning ended and the early afternoon began, with them came a better conversation than expected about sales tax (“The news isn’t really that bad yet”), and an update to the strategic plan.
A couple hours later, Hale was on a video conference with the governor and some of his people. The state is easing restrictoins on retail and other entities, but Windsor is being cautious.
The day would end officially with that town board orientation for new members of the board. Hale was a big part of getting that ready, as he and staff introduced new board members to town operations.
“That’s via Zoom,” Hale said. “Four newly elected members, two brand-new. We invited everyone to the orientation. Four of them, myself and the leadership team, there’s probably 15 or 18 people on the call. Can’t do that in a room together. It’s all via Zoom.”
The day ended where it began, in Hale’s bedroom office, but work is never over. Phone tag with the school district superintendent meant a late evening call was possible, and there’s always something else to wrap up.
“You find a lot of energy in the work,” Hale said. “Although at the end of the day, I’m falling asleep right away. Definitely an honest day’s work at the end of every day.”
Hale may be exhausted, but he’s also extremely hopeful.
“I fully know Windsor comes out of this as strong as ever,” he said. “Probably stronger. The community will continue to define ourselves as resilient. I take a lot of inspiration from this community.”
— Cuyler Meade
Greeley woman returns to work amid pandemic
Clare Wickman, an office manager at Kingsford Law Offices in downtown Greeley, returned to her post for the first time in more than two months on April 30.
Wickman, 72, had shoulder surgery in mid-February. By the time she recovered enough to return to work, the new coronavirus had started to spread in Colorado. After having been diagnosed in January with chronic myeloid leukemia, a type of cancer affecting the bone marrow and blood cells, Wickman needed to practice extra caution to prevent contracting the virus.
Unfortunately, Wickman’s daughter with whom she lives started to feel sick March 22. Like many Coloradans in the earlier stages of the pandemic, Wickman was unable to get her daughter tested for the virus.
That lack of certainty created an unsettling environment for Wickman in her own home. Fortunately, Wickman’s daughter recovered and is now able to help around the house.
After such a prolonged time away from the office, Wickman was eager to see her colleagues. So much so, she admitted, she couldn’t help but hug them on her return.
“I missed them,” Wickman said. “We’re very close in that office.”
Though Wickman and her colleagues remain close-knit, they’re physically distanced now. Where three women once worked up front in a somewhat tight space, there are now two. The third, Wickman’s assistant, now shares what was once Wickman’s own office.
Wickman thinks her assistant might have fallen ill with COVID-19 when Wickman was away from the office. Her assistant told Wickman that she lost the ability to taste and to smell before becoming very sick for two weeks. But like Wickman’s daughter, her assistant was never tested.
As the office manager, Wickman does a little of everything, from making calls and helping with marketing to working on files and collecting payments from clients. Wickman said she didn’t feel like she was able to accomplish much on her first day back with all the changes.
“I felt a little lost,” she said. “It was kind of weird, you know?”
The doors to the office were locked, another strange element of working in the pandemic. Wickman said there are usually at least 10 people who come and go, whether for consultations, payments or paperwork. With the courts closed except for public safety reasons, even the attorneys don’t have much work to do compared to normal.
When some people did come in for a consultation, everyone donned masks and wiped off everything after they left.
Wickman said she was busy catching up with the work she had left behind for more than two months. The start of the new month is a particularly busy time for billing, giving her plenty to do right now. But if things continue how they are, Wickman probably won’t be able to continue working full time, she said.
Wickman is always trying to look at the positive side of things. Though it’s disrupted people’s daily lives in unprecedented ways, the pandemic has brought families closer together, Wickman believes.
“It’s a new world. It’s a different world we’re living in,” she said. “The Lord’s got a hand in this. … We live such a fast-paced life that he’s saying, ‘You need to slow down and enjoy each other and enjoy your family. And eat together and be together a little bit more.’”
— Trevor Reid
The physics of working from home
The end of a semester doesnot mean the end of work for Wendy Adams.
The Greeley resident hasplenty to do as the days wind down on the semester at Colorado School of Mines,where the 50-year-old Adams is a research associate professor in the physics department.
On April 28, Adams taught her final class of the semester: Physics Teaching Techniques. The university started final exams May 1.
“It’s teaching students howto teach physics,” Adams said.
Before Adams turned on hercomputer for class and a planned demonstration, she started the day by 8 a.m.caring for 2-year-old daughter, Sam. Along with many parents these days, Adams isjuggling childcare with work.
Adams spent time with Samthrough the morning, while fitting in a little work. The pair’s activitiesincluded a late-morning walk with Sam in the stroller.
“She fell asleep, and I finished getting ready,” Adams said.
Adams is used to working at home. She’s been at Mines for three years after spending seven years teaching at her undergraduate alma mater, the University of Northern Colorado. She is also a graduate of University High.
During a normal academicyear, that is, one not derailed by a pandemic, Adams generally commutes toMines once a week while using Zoom to get into a class taught by apost-doctoral student.
“We were already a hybrid alittle bit,” Adams said.
For the class-time demonstration, Adams pulled together items from home and ended up doing a variety of presentations in physics, acoustics, chemistry and earth science. She showed the students how to make magnetic slime and erasable pens, melt ice in fresh and salt water, and crush cans with the atmosphere.
A demonstration is going to be part of the students’ final exam next week, and Adams wanted them to be ready. Sam watched some of the production while eating lunch in her highchair.
“They don’t have the fun ofbeing in the room with me,” Adams said of her students. “It went really wellfor what it was. I’ve never done a demo online.”
Adams moved to other work after class. She runs Mines’ teacher preparation training program called Teach@Mines. The program introduces Mines students to pathways to teach chemistry, physics and math — all of which are high-need areas nationwide at kindergarten through 12th-grade levels, Adams said.
Adams is actively engaged andinterested in increasing teacher numbers for STEM subjects — science,technology, engineering and mathematics. Her out-of-class time is also spentpreparing material for a STEM-teacher recruitment website.
The site, www.getthefactsout.org, is the product of aNational Science Foundation grant to fund the work at the Colorado School of Minesand four national science societies.
“It’snot the job Mines hired me to do, but the work is synergistic,” Adams said. “It’sabout how to recruit teachers.”
Bylate night Tuesday, April 28, Adams and her brother were picking up theirfather from a local assisted living facility to relocate him to Adams’ home.Adams said her dad, who is 77, is not doing well being isolated at MeadowViewof Greeley on 29th St.
Adamssaid her father lost about 20 pounds while he was in MeadowView, he was weakand he had trouble standing on his own.
“He is miserable,” Adams said. “He needs help. He’s totally cut off from everyone who matters.”
— Anne Delaney
Technology makes a quarantine more tolerable
For Michael Ross, a technology librarian with the Clearview Library District, libraries remain “even more relevant than ever” due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
As the technology librarian, Ross works with the library’s 3D printer, offers technology support to community members and designs Science, Technology, Engineering, Art and Math (STEAM) programs for kids of all ages.
With the stay-at-home orders closing public access to restaurants and bars, beauty salons and barbershops, tattoo parlors and libraries, Ross has had to shift to an online format for presenting the library’s STEAM programs to the community.
“Many of our services moved to an online model, for example, our programs. The library offers daily programs, many of which were very popular before the pandemic,” Ross explained. “It’s been an interesting shift to an online model, in which we record our programs and post them on social media. However, we’re getting positive feedback from the community and people seem to be engaging with the content.”
Working at home, Ross started the day on April 30 by firing up the 3D printer to create face mask extenders/ear savers for local health care workers.
Once he gets that project going, Ross then turns his attention to planning STEAM programs that he wants to record.
“So, some days I’m recording some sort of craft that kids can do at home, or teaching lessons on building a game using Scratch, a block based visual programming language,” he said. “I try and mix it up, and offer things that would be fun for kids to learn during their time at home.”
In between printing and recording, Ross mans the library’s Ask a Geek feature that offers the community free help and guidance with technology issues.
Issues could be anything from helping someone download an ebook and resetting a PIN to figuring out computer issues and helping people explore the different technology options offered through the library.
“We have some very tech savvy staff that are excellent at what they do, and it’s a popular library service that some may be unaware that we offer,” Ross said.
And like many people, Ross has been attending lots of online meetings.
“I’ve gotten used to a new way of working. I manage to stay nearly just as busy, and that’s helped with the day-to-day routine,” Ross said.
As COVID-19 restrictions start to ease, on April 29 the library began to offer curbside checkouts for various materials. The new program allows community members to reserve materials online and pick them up from baskets located outside the library.
“People miss the library and staff has been super busy fulfilling those requests. I’m excited that things are moving even a little bit more towards normal,” Ross said.
“And though it may be awhile before we get back to ‘normal’, the role of the library in the community hasn’t changed.”
The pandemic not only has caused a huge shift in Ross’s work routines, but also his personal life and hobbies.
As a drummer for a local band, he’s had to adjust to playing solo.
“That has completely changed, as well as the fact that we can’t go to the local gym, socialize outside of the family or do many of the outdoor activities I love during this season,” Ross said. “We’ve been taking this very seriously at home so we’ve stayed indoors except for daily walks with the dog.”
As the world begins to move forward in this unknown “new normal,” Ross is most concerned for friends and family that have lost jobs due to the effects of the pandemic.
“It seems to me that people who are in the most precarious and difficult economic situations are the people who are most negatively affected in an economic downturn, and that is painful to consider,” Ross explained. “I’m incredibly grateful that I still have a great job and that the library continues to offer relevant and excellent services to the community.”
— Tamara Markard
The magic of perspective
In a strange and surreal time for many navigating the COVID-19 pandemic, there was a day at the end of April Allison Larson found interesting and even startling.
The 42-year-old first grade teacher at Tozer Primary School in Windsor returned to her classroom for the first time in more than a month April 30. Larson took her turn among Tozer teachers to spend 90 minutes cleaning out the desks of her 22 students.
Larson packed up bags for each child. She said next week the school will re-open for students and their families to schedule pick up. Weld RE-4 School District students and teachers have been out of their classrooms since March 13.
Escorted to her modular classroom by Tozer principal Shelly Butcher, Larson had to remind herself school is still in session even if she couldn’t see evidence of learning in the one place where it overflows with signs.
“It’s hard because there’s no artwork on the walls,” said Larson, who has more than two decades in early childhood education including six years at Tozer. “It felt like summer, and I had to remind myself that it’s still April. It was surreal.”
As Larson worked, packing up the books, notebooks, journals and work, bells rang throughout the building signaling the end of classes. The sudden sounds caught Larson off guard.
“It startled me, and I jumped,” she said. “This is a reminder this isn’t normal.”
Larson is one of seven teachers on the first grade team at Tozer. And while she says there are plenty of drawbacks to remote learning, the opposite is also true: there are plenty of opportunities for growth for students and teachers.
“I think it’s created some opportunities for them (the kids), maybe, to take some risks,” Larson said. “In class, you give them a Chromebook and they’re hesitant because they don’t want to push the wrong button. At home, it’s, ‘Oh yeah, I got there and I was able to problem solve through those.’ It’s finding other ways to solve their problems.”
Larson said Weld RE-4, to help its teachers, students and families manage through the remote-learning process, came up with learning themes for kindergarten through fifth grade teachers.
The theme is carried through the curriculum so the young students see it in math, reading and other subjects.
One of the recent themes centered on perspective. As a way to demonstrate the meaning, Larson read books to the students over their video chats. One book is called “The True Story of the Three Little Pigs,” and it’s told from the perspective of the big, bad wolf.
Another book Larson used is called “The Day the Crayons Quit,” a story by Drew Daywalt and Oliver Jeffers about a revolt among crayons.
One of Larson’s students picked up the story about the crayons and wrote about the crayons visiting her home. A boy explained he saw perspective while watching the movie “Wonder,” about a fifth grade boy who won over his classmates.
Larson’s students also demonstrated their understanding of perspective in math word problems.
“On one hand, remote learning is not ideal and it’s presenting a ton of challenges,” Larson said. “But I also think a lot of really cool things are coming out of it. The kids are creating the story problems and they’re solving them online.”
Four days a week, Larson meets with her students for lessons or meetings through their video conferences. Wednesdays are reserved for teacher meetings.
Larson’s Thursday schedule includes meeting with students in small groups. She also spent some time during the day preparing for the next week’s lessons. The theme is patterns, and Larson read the book “Brown Bear, Bear Bear, What Do You See?” with help from 16-year-old daughter, Makenna, a high school sophomore.
One of Larson’s favorite experiences as a result of the remote learning is talking with the students on Tuesdays when she hosts office hours. The sessions are for student who need one-on-one assistance or if they want to check in.
“I’ve gotten to know kids at a deeper level,” she said. “It’s fantastic. That could never happen in a classroom one-on-one with a kid.”
— Anne Delaney
The human cost of the pandemic lives on
Wednesday afternoon, Beatriz Rangel buried her father.
Thursday, Rangel was picking up the pieces of lives ravaged by the virus.
At the burial Wednesday, pastor Jose Castro had read about Martha and Lazarus, referencing the former’s grief at the latter’s temporary death. It was a message of hope, that Saul, Rangel’s father and the first COVID-19 death of an employee from the JBS beef plant, was, like Lazarus: not dead, but sleeping.
But it was clear that Beatriz, though the daughter of the dead man, was the Martha of the family. Cumbered about, much serving, it was Beatriz who, even as her father was being lowered into the ground, was gathering up the flowers to be cast into the grave, the portraits to be kept, and passing out the leaflet from her little sermonette moments before.
Thursday, little changed. Beatriz began her day under the snow — a stark contrast from just hours earlier at the gravesite — outside her home in Miliken, where, hair flecked with snow, she reflected on the compounding factors of her father’s death.
“I couldn’t hug my mother,” Rangel said. “I couldn’t hug my brother, my siblings or friends I haven’t seen for a long time. Family from all over the place, but I couldn’t really be near or around them. Just could see them from afar. I’ve never experienced something so bad — for a funeral, to say goodbye to your father, not to be able to hug anybody or be near anybody. Just mourning. By yourself.”
Later that day, from her mother’s home a little after 1 p.m., Beatriz shuffled through her father’s life, eyes sad but resolute. Early afternoon light streamed in through windows, illuminating a living room cluttered by death — a life’s worth of paperwork alongside flowers from the funeral — as Beatriz wrestled with 401ks and social securities meant for her father’s retirement that never came, and now left to her widowed mother.
“It’s a hard afternoon,” she said, as she, cumbered about again, worked to ensure her mother’s future.
Beatriz lamented the time lost in line at the bank earlier. 45 minutes in the car to get served. It’s frustrating, she said, but, if anyone knows it’s worth it, it’s her.
“It’s better that we’re being careful,” Beatriz said, “than to expose other people, and have them go through what we went through.”
— Cuyler Meade
