The World Changed on Thursday Afternoon . . .
Wow . . .
It would appear that I picked the best possible time to retire. If I was still working, I would be going in to work every day - I wasn't eligible for remote work and while I'm not sure, I've heard that the place where I used to work has not closed nor offered remote work unless one is an exempt employee.
Tuesday, March 3rd was my last day. When I got home that afternoon, I went right to Walgreens because the first Tuesday of the month is Senior Discount Day. I was able to get some surgical gloves, some hand sanitizer and a large tub of Clorox wipes. I figured that I might need them. I didn't hoard buy, just picked up what I thought I might need. Then, I had a great first week of retirement, filled with almost daily trips to the health club, sleeping until I woke up, and just generally hanging out at home and enjoying myself. I caught up on a bunch of telly that I had DVR'd, and Netflix has been in use, as well - I just watched The Witcher.
Near the beginning of the second week of my retirement - on Thursday, the 12th - I had two doctor appointments in the city, as well an an appointment with my financial planner. I decided that these were important enough to catch a very early train (of course my first appointment was made months ago when I was still working, so in order to get there by 8 o'clock I had to take a train that goes at the buttcrack of dawn . . . ). I was already nervous about taking the train into the city - it's a Petrie dish at the best of times - but I put wipes, gloves, and kleenex in my backpack, washed my hands again for good measure, and put on a pair of surgical gloves and toddled on off to the train. It wasn't very crowded and no one sat next to me . . .
I got through my second appointment early and got something to eat for lunch at a Pret a Manger. Then, I walked across the street and, even though it was a bit chilly and breezy out, I sat at the Chagall Four Seasons mosaic and ate my lunch. It's one of my favorite pieces of public art in Chicago. There was no one near me. I got in early to my final appointment of the day, and was headed home on the 12:20 train. Even with a new pair of surgical gloves on I could feel my heart rate increase the moment I got on the train. I knew right then that I was not going back into the city on the train any time soon - that I was going to be practicing social distancing.
I saw the governor's daily briefing that day when I got home. It felt like the world turned upside down. I immediately cancelled appointments in the city for the next week, and texted my trainer that I was going to practice social distancing until at least the end of March.
My state's governor has been very, very vocal about the lack of federal support, and we are taking things very seriously here in Chicagoland. It was already very clear that the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 was far more serious than the federal government would have initially had everyone believe. My disgust with the current resident of the White House is no secret. It's my hope, however, that more and more people are finally becoming disgusted with him, too. I can hardly bear to listen to his grandiose ramblings. He's unfit, he's stupid, and now, he's dangerous, to boot. There is no doubt in my mind that he is responsible for the United States' poor and slow response to this pandemic.
Here in Illinois our governor, the mayor of Chicago and the president of the Cook County board either together or separately have been giving daily briefings at 2:30 p.m., every day - not just weekdays. In fact, Illinois is one of the states leading the charge for the safety of its residents. Here is the Illinois website devoted to COVID-19. When I started this post four days ago, the number of confirmed cases in Illinois had just gone from 48 to 64. Today, four days later we are at 288 with the first fatality a woman younger than I am.
I'm reasonably sure that the numbers are getting higher because people are finally being able to be tested. But, because the Moron in Chief told everyone that the virus would go as soon as the weather warmed up, and Fox News and its stable of pundits said that it was a plot by the Democrats, The U.S. was put WEEKS behind the power curve when maybe we could have gotten out in front of it. We don't have enough test kits in the United States. CNN reported today that "two polls released this week show the troubling effects that weeks of dismissive and conspiratorial coverage of the novel coronavirus from Fox News and other right-wing media outlets and personalities had on the American public." WEEKS of dismissive coverage. WEEKS. This is is an eternity when we are talking about a virus that cannot be stopped at this point by anything. Social distancing will flatten the curve, but there will likely not be a vaccine for about a year or more.
Remember, too, that this administration fired the U.S. Pandemic Response Team in 2018 - the very team that would have made a huge difference in what we are now facing.
A young friend on Facebook posted this a few days go - it sums it up pretty well, I think:
As a child, I remember walking with my mom to school on a Saturday to get a sugar cube that would keep me from getting polio, but we've never seen anything like this coronavirus in my lifetime - a virus to which no one has immunity.
I have two risk factors that make me take the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 very seriously: I'm over 60 and I have asthma. When you have asthma and you get a respiratory infection or virus, it's never "just a cold." At least, in my experience, it's not. I confess that I am frightened and I'm staying in as much as I can. I go out for a walk most days because I can walk where I almost never see anyone. But I've really been wanting to bake bread - you know, brush up my original learning from back in home economics in junior high school. I know, I'm dating myself. Oh well :-D I've got plenty of flour and my Paul Hollywood bread book is at the ready, but I realized that I didn't have any yeast. So I decided to go out to the store yesterday.
I was going to go to my local fresh market because I thought they would likely have yeast. But then I got a group text letting me know that one of my cousins prostate cancer had returned and he'd been going for daily radiation at the UIC hospital near downtown daily since 12 February. He lives alone and while he can get food from the local food pantry (he doesn't have much money and he's not quite old enough to take his Social Security), he was low on soap and toilet paper. So, I decided that I would see what I could find for him and I went to one of the larger stores. No TP. No paper towels. No flour. No yeast. I left and headed to the fresh market. I had better luck there, as I thought I would. Still no TP, but I was able to get yeast - and I found myself getting more than I will likely need . . . the scarcity mentality driven by fear is strong. I got a few other things, like pickle relish to make tuna salad, and the peanut butter that I prefer along with some jam, but there was no bread. And no bar soap.
I came home and found three bars of soap for my cousin and three rolls of TP. I put everything in a bag and drove over to his house where he was outside washing the windows on his van. He is in very good spirits and said that the radiation is not difficult - just that he doesn't have an appetite and he's pretty tired. His attitude was good. We stayed at least six feet away from each other and gave each other the peace sign and the split-finger Vulcan "live long and prosper" sign that Mr. Spock used to give on Star Trek and laughed and smiled at each other. But it about broke my heart that we both have immune systems that could be compromised enough to the extent that we couldn't even hug each other. And then this morning, another cousin, who is a nurse who lives in Washington state posted that she is self-quarantined at home because she's exhibiting symptoms. They are not yet testing in her state because they don't have enough tests. She's prohibited from returning to work until she's 72-hours symptom-free. She said her symptoms are mild - but does that really matter? She might just have a flu, but she might have COVID-19. Thankfully she does not live alone.
It feels like Chicago is only steps away from being locked down. The local store I went to first has just instituted a one-hour window at 7 a.m. that is for people 60 and over to be able to shop. My pantry is looking pretty good, but I'm going there tomorrow to get what I can because it seems prudent to do so, plus my cousin might need some more help (others in my family are also helping him).
Every event I was scheduled to attend, participate in, or speak at in the next few months has already been cancelled except for the national African violet convention which is scheduled for the end of May. Short of a miracle, I don't see how it can go forward.
So. What an awful post, huh? Still there is much to be grateful for and every day in my conversations with God, I give thanks.
I saw another thing on Facebook that feels like we need it:
It reminded me of something
that Dr. Wayne Dyer used to say: "When you change the way you look at
things, the things you look at change."
I'm not familiar with Dr. Jernigan, but this rang so true for me, and it's something positive to which we can hold in the weeks and months ahead.
Be still.
Keep breathing.
Keep practicing social distancing (PLEASE stay home as much as you can).
And keep washing your hands.
Onward . . .
This song rolled up on my iPod yesterday when I was pulling my tax paperwork together. I really don't think anyone has ever equaled their exquisite harmonies . . .
It would appear that I picked the best possible time to retire. If I was still working, I would be going in to work every day - I wasn't eligible for remote work and while I'm not sure, I've heard that the place where I used to work has not closed nor offered remote work unless one is an exempt employee.
Tuesday, March 3rd was my last day. When I got home that afternoon, I went right to Walgreens because the first Tuesday of the month is Senior Discount Day. I was able to get some surgical gloves, some hand sanitizer and a large tub of Clorox wipes. I figured that I might need them. I didn't hoard buy, just picked up what I thought I might need. Then, I had a great first week of retirement, filled with almost daily trips to the health club, sleeping until I woke up, and just generally hanging out at home and enjoying myself. I caught up on a bunch of telly that I had DVR'd, and Netflix has been in use, as well - I just watched The Witcher.
Near the beginning of the second week of my retirement - on Thursday, the 12th - I had two doctor appointments in the city, as well an an appointment with my financial planner. I decided that these were important enough to catch a very early train (of course my first appointment was made months ago when I was still working, so in order to get there by 8 o'clock I had to take a train that goes at the buttcrack of dawn . . . ). I was already nervous about taking the train into the city - it's a Petrie dish at the best of times - but I put wipes, gloves, and kleenex in my backpack, washed my hands again for good measure, and put on a pair of surgical gloves and toddled on off to the train. It wasn't very crowded and no one sat next to me . . .
I got through my second appointment early and got something to eat for lunch at a Pret a Manger. Then, I walked across the street and, even though it was a bit chilly and breezy out, I sat at the Chagall Four Seasons mosaic and ate my lunch. It's one of my favorite pieces of public art in Chicago. There was no one near me. I got in early to my final appointment of the day, and was headed home on the 12:20 train. Even with a new pair of surgical gloves on I could feel my heart rate increase the moment I got on the train. I knew right then that I was not going back into the city on the train any time soon - that I was going to be practicing social distancing.
I saw the governor's daily briefing that day when I got home. It felt like the world turned upside down. I immediately cancelled appointments in the city for the next week, and texted my trainer that I was going to practice social distancing until at least the end of March.
My state's governor has been very, very vocal about the lack of federal support, and we are taking things very seriously here in Chicagoland. It was already very clear that the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 was far more serious than the federal government would have initially had everyone believe. My disgust with the current resident of the White House is no secret. It's my hope, however, that more and more people are finally becoming disgusted with him, too. I can hardly bear to listen to his grandiose ramblings. He's unfit, he's stupid, and now, he's dangerous, to boot. There is no doubt in my mind that he is responsible for the United States' poor and slow response to this pandemic.
Here in Illinois our governor, the mayor of Chicago and the president of the Cook County board either together or separately have been giving daily briefings at 2:30 p.m., every day - not just weekdays. In fact, Illinois is one of the states leading the charge for the safety of its residents. Here is the Illinois website devoted to COVID-19. When I started this post four days ago, the number of confirmed cases in Illinois had just gone from 48 to 64. Today, four days later we are at 288 with the first fatality a woman younger than I am.
I'm reasonably sure that the numbers are getting higher because people are finally being able to be tested. But, because the Moron in Chief told everyone that the virus would go as soon as the weather warmed up, and Fox News and its stable of pundits said that it was a plot by the Democrats, The U.S. was put WEEKS behind the power curve when maybe we could have gotten out in front of it. We don't have enough test kits in the United States. CNN reported today that "two polls released this week show the troubling effects that weeks of dismissive and conspiratorial coverage of the novel coronavirus from Fox News and other right-wing media outlets and personalities had on the American public." WEEKS of dismissive coverage. WEEKS. This is is an eternity when we are talking about a virus that cannot be stopped at this point by anything. Social distancing will flatten the curve, but there will likely not be a vaccine for about a year or more.
Remember, too, that this administration fired the U.S. Pandemic Response Team in 2018 - the very team that would have made a huge difference in what we are now facing.
A young friend on Facebook posted this a few days go - it sums it up pretty well, I think:
As a child, I remember walking with my mom to school on a Saturday to get a sugar cube that would keep me from getting polio, but we've never seen anything like this coronavirus in my lifetime - a virus to which no one has immunity.
I have two risk factors that make me take the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 very seriously: I'm over 60 and I have asthma. When you have asthma and you get a respiratory infection or virus, it's never "just a cold." At least, in my experience, it's not. I confess that I am frightened and I'm staying in as much as I can. I go out for a walk most days because I can walk where I almost never see anyone. But I've really been wanting to bake bread - you know, brush up my original learning from back in home economics in junior high school. I know, I'm dating myself. Oh well :-D I've got plenty of flour and my Paul Hollywood bread book is at the ready, but I realized that I didn't have any yeast. So I decided to go out to the store yesterday.
I was going to go to my local fresh market because I thought they would likely have yeast. But then I got a group text letting me know that one of my cousins prostate cancer had returned and he'd been going for daily radiation at the UIC hospital near downtown daily since 12 February. He lives alone and while he can get food from the local food pantry (he doesn't have much money and he's not quite old enough to take his Social Security), he was low on soap and toilet paper. So, I decided that I would see what I could find for him and I went to one of the larger stores. No TP. No paper towels. No flour. No yeast. I left and headed to the fresh market. I had better luck there, as I thought I would. Still no TP, but I was able to get yeast - and I found myself getting more than I will likely need . . . the scarcity mentality driven by fear is strong. I got a few other things, like pickle relish to make tuna salad, and the peanut butter that I prefer along with some jam, but there was no bread. And no bar soap.
I came home and found three bars of soap for my cousin and three rolls of TP. I put everything in a bag and drove over to his house where he was outside washing the windows on his van. He is in very good spirits and said that the radiation is not difficult - just that he doesn't have an appetite and he's pretty tired. His attitude was good. We stayed at least six feet away from each other and gave each other the peace sign and the split-finger Vulcan "live long and prosper" sign that Mr. Spock used to give on Star Trek and laughed and smiled at each other. But it about broke my heart that we both have immune systems that could be compromised enough to the extent that we couldn't even hug each other. And then this morning, another cousin, who is a nurse who lives in Washington state posted that she is self-quarantined at home because she's exhibiting symptoms. They are not yet testing in her state because they don't have enough tests. She's prohibited from returning to work until she's 72-hours symptom-free. She said her symptoms are mild - but does that really matter? She might just have a flu, but she might have COVID-19. Thankfully she does not live alone.
It feels like Chicago is only steps away from being locked down. The local store I went to first has just instituted a one-hour window at 7 a.m. that is for people 60 and over to be able to shop. My pantry is looking pretty good, but I'm going there tomorrow to get what I can because it seems prudent to do so, plus my cousin might need some more help (others in my family are also helping him).
Every event I was scheduled to attend, participate in, or speak at in the next few months has already been cancelled except for the national African violet convention which is scheduled for the end of May. Short of a miracle, I don't see how it can go forward.
So. What an awful post, huh? Still there is much to be grateful for and every day in my conversations with God, I give thanks.
I saw another thing on Facebook that feels like we need it:
I'm not familiar with Dr. Jernigan, but this rang so true for me, and it's something positive to which we can hold in the weeks and months ahead.
Be still.
Keep breathing.
Keep practicing social distancing (PLEASE stay home as much as you can).
And keep washing your hands.
Onward . . .
This song rolled up on my iPod yesterday when I was pulling my tax paperwork together. I really don't think anyone has ever equaled their exquisite harmonies . . .
Comments
Michelle, I know - just wishing about now that I had put a bidet in the last bathroom I renovated!