COVID-19

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming it.”       (Helen Keller, 1880--1968)

Eerie.  Unreal.  Crazy.  I’m looking for the right adjective to describe what’s happening.  From last week to this, everything has changed.  The world is under siege.  Daily life is radically altered and I’m struggling to get a handle on it.

I watch the news closely trying to sort out which precautions are essential and which, if any, are excessive.  Which are based in logic and reason and which in fear?  I am at high risk, and I take this pandemic very seriously.  I understand that we must try to avoid here what is happening in Italy.  I understand that we must ‘flatten the curve’ so that the health care system won’t be overwhelmed.

Just to get out of the house, I got in the car and drove around.  Stores were quiet and most restaurants were closed.  There were a few cars in the drive-throughs at McDonald’s and Freddy’s.  There were a few cars getting gas, the price having fallen to $1.94.  There were lots of cars in front of the grocery stores, and the parking lot at Costco looked like the day before Christmas.

Fortunately, due to my wife’s foresight, we are well provisioned.  We’ve got plenty of food and toilet paper.  And my kids continue shopping for us bringing additional groceries, as needed.

I now sleep-in later than usual.  I get up, drink a cup of coffee and watch morning T.V.  I read.  I eat a large late lunch and a small dinner, all the while getting used to eating at home.  The indoor pool at my apartment complex has closed.  For exercise, I ride my stationary bike for an hour each afternoon.  When the weather allows, I get outside and walk keeping an appropriate social distance from other fellow walkers.  At night I either read, play my guitar, or watch some more T.V.

One of my hobbies, playing poker, is out of the question.  Sitting in close quarters at the casino with nine other players, passing back and forth filthy poker chips, isn’t an option.  I do go to the lake and fish.  That’s been my most life-normalizing activity.  However, the weather’s been uncooperative, and the fish aren’t yet biting.

It was announced yesterday that my grandchildren’s schools will be closed for the remainder of the year.  Their parents must now figure out just what that will mean regarding schedules, activities and home-schooling demands.  My children are well equipped to handle this challenge, but I fear for many who are not.

My youngest child is on the front lines, an internist in Omaha specializing in geriatric care.  She was asked by a worried family member if she could take a leave of absence from work.  She replied that was out of the question. That would be like a soldier deserting on the eve of battle.  I am proud of her for her sense of duty and her courage.  I hope she remembers, that in battle, a good soldier remains vigilant and avoids unnecessary risks.