Here we are, five months into a pandemic that is ripping this country to shreds. It feels as though the Trump Administration is following advice from a book called 101 Bad Ways to Deal with a Pandemic.  Seems as though they’ve pretty much worked through the list.  Deny science. Check. Inadequate testing. Check. Encourage people to not wear a mask. Check, check, check.

Nevertheless, despite the disastrous leadership, Clif and I, like many others, have adapted. We’ve figured out how to order most everything we need online. (Thank  you, Instacart.) We’ve only gone to a store once since March, and when I hear tales about how too many people have decided that masks are for sissies, I’m not eager to go back.

In truth, I really enjoy having my groceries and other goods delivered, and I’m wondering if I’ll ever go back to in-store shopping. We shall see.

Because of our age and our health issues, Clif and I haven’t strayed too far from home. Every few weeks, he takes rubbish to the Transfer Station. I’ve delivered cards to a friend. We’ve talked about having people over for a socially-distanced cocktail hour on the patio, but we haven’t done it yet, and I’m not sure if we ever will.

Because as it turns out, Clif and I are doing just fine at home by ourselves. We each have our various projects, and we are busy and engaged every single day. We are two introverted elders who think home is best, and this makes it much easier for us to self-isolate. And, we have each other. I really do feel for those who are alone and for extroverts whose joy comes from being around other people.

We are also lucky to have technology. While I know it has its dark side, for us technology has made staying at home not only bearable but also fulfilling and creative.

Because of technology, every day I start out the morning traveling around the world as I check out what my blogging friends are doing. I go to New Zealand, Australia, Singapore, Canada, England, Scotland, Wales, France, and to many places in the United States. Always, I am inspired and moved by what these wonderful friends write.

Clif and I belong to a virtual film club sponsored by our library, and every other week we get together to talk about a movie.  What great discussions we have.

Our library also sponsors a virtual trivia night and book group. Clif and I are terrible at trivia, and last week we came in last. No matter. We still had fun. And book group is just as thought provoking as film club.

Once a month, I Zoom with friends from a media group I used to belong to.

Once a week, we Zoom with “the kids.”

Streaming services provide us with plenty of good entertainment—movies, docs, and television series.

NPR offers so many excellent Tiny Desk Concerts that I could listen for quite a while and not hear a repeat.

Naturally, if I were granted a magic wish, I would use it to dispel Covid-19, which has torn lives and economies apart.  I might be a homebody, but I would rather not have to be compelled to stay home because of a killer virus.

Plus I miss my kids like crazy.

But I don’t have this power so all I can do is adjust to the situation.

I hope you all are adjusting, too.

As the grim title of this post indicates, covid-19 has killed over 100,000 people in the United States. The sorrowful weight of it presses down on me, and my heart is heavy. And rightly so. With no vaccine available and places opening all around the United States, it is likely the death toll will continue to rise. How far? To 200,000? To 500,00? Who knows?

Whatever the case, a staggering number of people have died of it in a short time.

Eliza Mackintosh, of CNN, puts it in perspective:

In less than four months, the novel coronavirus has killed more than 100,000 Americans — more than in Vietnam, the Iraq War and the War in Afghanistan combined.

It is a story of lost mothers, fathers, grandparents, siblings, spouses and even children. An even bigger tragedy: They didn’t all have to die.

Stephen Collinson, also of CNN, expands on this:

A Columbia University study released last week found that had the US started social distancing a week earlier, it could have prevented the loss of at least 36,000 lives.

In the New York metro area alone, 17,500 fewer people would have died if the US had acted one week earlier, Columbia epidemiologist Jeffrey Shaman said.

Shameful. Yet recently on Facebook, a friend of a friend commented: “The cure cannot be worse than the disease… We must resume to live.”

I wrote back: “The cure is worse than death? For the 100,000 people who have died of covid-19 in this country? For the many, many more who will surely die as standards are relaxed?”

An argument ensued, and nobody’s mind was changed.

All the while, our president has put the coronovirus in his rear-view mirror, as though the virus is a pesky driver that can be passed and left behind. Onward to the 2020 election, which appears to be what is chiefly on the president’s mind. Suffering and death? Not so much.

There have been glimmers of hope. Not every country has behaved as stupidly as ours has. As the writer Umair Haque writes, “New Zealand… didn’t just flatten the curve. It ‘crunched’ it, as epidemiologists say. Do you know how many people died of the virus in New Zealand? Just 21. Twenty one….That’s a stunning accomplishment….Sure, New Zealand’s a small country. But being a big country doesn’t give you a license to just watch helplessly as thousands die. That’s just a rationalization for negligence.”

Can the U.S. learn from New Zealand and its admirable prime minister, Jacinda Ardern? Again, who knows?

Despite my heavy heart, I live in hope.

I wasn’t planning on posting anything today, but then on Facebook a friend shared this piece—Why You Should Ignore All That Coronavirus-Inspired Productivity Pressure—written by Aisha S. Ahmed in The Chronicle of Higher Education. 

Ahmed outlines how to deal with living in times of crises, in particular during this time of the coronavirus pandemic.

The piece is full of terrific advice for everyone, not just academics. If, like Clif and me, you have been spinning your wheels and have been feeling too much emotional turmoil to accomplish much of anything, then this piece is for you.

Ahmed writes “I have worked and lived under conditions of war, violent conflict, poverty, and disaster in many places around the world. I have experienced food shortages and disease outbreaks, as well as long periods of social isolation, restricted movement, and confinement.”

She advises us all to pace ourselves and to not expect life to return to normal anytime soon. “Understand that this is a marathon. If you sprint at the beginning, you will vomit on your shoes by the end of the month. Emotionally prepare for this crisis to continue for 12 to 18 months, followed by a slow recovery. If it ends sooner, be pleasantly surprised. Right now, work toward establishing your serenity, productivity, and wellness under sustained disaster conditions.”

Take care of yourselves, blogging friends, and allow yourself to feel distraught and disoriented. As Ahmed noted, you will recover, but you need to give yourself time to adapt to the new normal.