Counting on Staying Well

The counts are grim today in the US.

Two weeks ago, 3 people, then 4 more at my university were confirmed to have covid-19.  Classes shut down, and we all scrambled to put teachers, students, staff and administration online.  Many programs take a year or more to develop online classes, not to mention moving administrative functions along with them.  We did it in a week and a half.

I’ve been working remotely from home since then, as has my husband.  My home office is the couch.  His is the rocking chair.  We share the dining room table in shifts when we need another monitor or a video setup.  He goes out to grocery shop once a week, to take out my mother’s garbage and recycling twice a week, to walk a couple miles or so at night alone or with me; otherwise, we stay at home.

That’s because the counts are grim.

6,009 cases in Pennsylvania today.  22,255 in New Jersey. 45,707 in New York City alone, with 83,712 in New York state.  209,377 in the US.  That means over a third of the cases nationwide are in the tri-state area, which explains the tents that have been set up in Central Park and the hospital ship docked at the Manhattan Cruise Terminal.  A little over 3,600 deaths.  The numbers reflect only those who have tested positive, not those without access to tests.  And they say the apex is weeks away yet.

 

Louisiana says it needs 12,000 ventilators.  It has received 192.  New Jersey has asked for 2,500 more.  They’re getting 300.  Triage is going to be an ugly thing.

A megachurch pastor in Tampa Bay, Florida was arrested for holding church services for hundreds of people despite a ban on gatherings of more than ten.  A few days ago, someone was arrested in New Jersey for throwing a “corona party,” and he’s not alone.  Some New Yorkers have apparently been throwing “corona potlucks” patterned after the chickenpox parties that used to be popular years ago, before there was a vaccine.  Students crowded beaches in Florida for Spring Break, as if they, and all the people they’d come in contact with for the next two weeks, were untouchable.

It’s hard to get a society to act as a single-minded organism.  That is often to our benefit, as history has shown us often enough where that can take us.  But in this case, it’d be nice to see some more of it: Stay home.  Stay put.  

But a lot of people can’t.  “Essential workers” are still reporting to their jobs, and it’s interesting to see what’s been deemed essential.  It’s not just health workers – though they’ve been welcoming anyone with a medical background.  “Are you a veterinarian?  Come on down!  Retired, without the required continuing education?  Welcome back!  Aaaaalmost through med school?  Close enough!”  But no, cashiers are essential.  Infrastructure workers (trash collection, utilities, transportation).  Manufacturing.  Retail (grocery stores, pharmacies, restaurants [take-out or delivery only – and man, did they get new ads on TV quickly: "Buy our pizza!  It goes into the oven at 400º and then no one touches it!  And we take it to your house and just leave it!  Contactless delivery!”], and of all things, liquor stores). Services (laundromats, funeral homes, animal shelters, auto repair).  Construction.  Finance. Defense.  Tech support. Child care. And the all-important delivery drivers for Amazon, UPS and so forth.   

Every time we need anything in our little cocoon here, someone is put at risk to get it to us, sell it to us, or do it for us.  That’s still an improvement over everyone carrying on life as usual, but it’s sobering to think of the risks of cashiering.  Whose life is worth minimum wage?

So it’s grim if we go by the numbers: the sick, the dead, the need vs the capacity, the monetary value of an “essential worker”.  

But setting the reality of the numbers aside, there are sparks of cheerful encouragement flying up from the flames, too.  That’ll be another post for another day.