Keeping On Keeping On

I'm trying really hard not to freak out about the coronavirus pandemic.

I really am. I don't freak out easily. Staying at home isn't difficult for me, as I live alone and I am retired. I spend a lot of time at home during normal times. But despite knowing that both my pantry and my freezer are full of food, going to the grocery store yesterday during shopping hours reserved for those age 60 and up stressed me out. I needed some dish washing soap and a couple of other non-food items. I was in and out quickly. But the realization that if something isn't done to stop the hoarding and to ensure that truck drivers don't stop delivering items to stores and restaurants made me realize that we could actually face real food shortages, especially if this pandemic continues for a long time.

Seeing video and photographs of college students crowding beaches in Florida, totally unconcerned about the very real possibility of spreading the disease to others, left me feeling nauseous. And state officials are more interested the money to be made from spring break revelers than in closing the beaches to protect people. Don't forget that Florida has a huge population of elderly who are at greater risk of Covid-19 than the general population.

I am lucky in that I can still go outside for a walk. I can still walk my dogs. If I encounter a neighbor and stop to chat, we stay more than 6 feet apart. I wanted a pizza on Monday, so I ordered online from a local (non-chain) pizza place, paid for it online and picked it up at the drive-through window. I am constantly washing my hands, but then I realize that everything I touch may be contaminated. I use Lysol spray on door handles, on the refrigerator and microwave handles. I wipe down the kitchen counters with Lysol spray cleaner. But then I open the mailbox and pick up the mail. I unpack a box from Amazon and wonder how contaminated the box and the items are.

I'm one of the lucky ones. I am well-supplied with food. I can enjoy going outside on a nice day. I'm not homeless or low-income. I have a vehicle, I can drive and I am mobile. So all in all, I'm fortunate. If the weather improves, I plan to do some longer walks along the river, perhaps going to a national wildlife refuge for the day.

But let's be honest: this is scary. It's unlike anything we have ever lived through. And our government, especially on the federal level, is woefully unprepared for the coming tidal wave of sick people needing to be hospitalized. Medical personnel are running out of personal protective equipment such as gowns, gloves and masks. Some are being told to use a scarf or to reuse masks to protect themselves. There is a severe shortage of ventilators. There aren't enough beds in intensive care units. There aren't enough kits to test people for the virus. So in reality, we have no idea how many are infected by this virus.

I am not one to panic easily. But this situation is terrifying. An early morning trip to the grocery store yesterday (at 7 a.m., when the store opened for people age 60 and older) found empty shelves where there should have been bread, milk, butter, eggs and meat. Even the vanilla almond milk I drink was not available. And forget about paper goods. 

The situation is out of control. There is nothing I can do except to isolate myself, keep up with my normal exercise and eating routine, and try to stay calm. 

Oh, and keep washing my hands.