Before determining the title for this post, I spent quite a while considering my target audience. I'm not directing my comments only to anti-maskers and COVID-deniers, but to anyone who might be thinking that they aren't going to live in fear just because of the Coronavirus and won't let their good times be thwarted by government restrictions/recommendations.
Washington State, where some of the first cases of COVID-19 appeared in the U.S., is a state that is being run by a liberal government (much to the irritation of right-leaning people/politicians). They struggled through the first round of the virus, losing many citizens as have all of the other states, but they are known to be an eco-friendly state with liberal policies. Thus, now that the virus has come back again with avengence, the Governor returned to earlier restrictions. My daughter and family live near Seattle. I was comparing their restrictions to ours in Indiana and commented that so few people here would observe them. Megan told me, "Here in Washington, they are more likely to." Then I read a news article from their main newspaper, announcing that the Governor was asking people to cancel their family gatherings for the holidays. The VERY FIRST public comment, printed at the end of the article said, in so many words, "No government is going to tell my family how to celebrate Thanksgiving...and no, we won't be serving fear at our table." So much for social compliance for the greater good.
In the beginning of the pandemic, no one really knew how the disease was transmitted, what the lasting effects were, what drugs would help, or whether or not patients who recovered would then be immune. It was a new entity. Recommendations were made based on the science of prophylaxis: wear masks; keep distance between others; limit exposure to crowds and circumstances that puts people in close proximity; keep hands clean; sanitize surfaces; and keep hands away from the face. Some of the information coming out was confusing to some Americans. And then the President, wanting to avoid a panic on the stock market--his biggest claim to fame--downplayed the whole virus thing every step of the way. He maintained that the Democrats and media were talking it up just to derail his re-election possibilities, and his supporters believed him. All the while, Americans were dying by the thousands every day. Thus, the coronavirus was politicized. The President refused to wear a mask and refused to limit attendance at his rallies and meetings. His supporters followed his lead. Then HE got the disease and was hospitalized. When he emerged several days later, having been pumped full of steroids (which cause euphoria) and experimental drugs, he felt invincible. "Don't be afraid of COVID," he said. "You will recover. I did, and I've never felt better."
So now, here we are, nine months later, with new COVID cases hitting record levels daily. Worse than before. It isn't done with us yet. We've lost all these months when we could have been slowing the spread of the disease which would allow us all to be free of restrictions sooner. Obviously, some people did everything right and still got the virus. Many died. And some did everything wrong but never came down with it, proving to themselves that the whole virus risk had been overblown in the first place.
What does all this have to do with me? Back in March, near the beginning of the pandemic in the U.S., I had plans to go to Seattle where I would house/cat/grandson-sit while the rest of the family went on a planned camping vacation to Canada. (My grandson didn't want to go. He wasn't being excluded for any other reason.) My plane tickets had already been purchased. I was actually packing to go when the "what ifs" got to me. *What if I picked up the virus at the airports or on the plane and took it home to my family? *What if the family left for Canada before I came down with symptoms, then had to come back to take care of me? *What if I got sick while the family was gone? I would have a car but had no clue how to get anywhere. Worse, my grandson didn't have a driver's license, so even he wouldn't be able to help me get to the places I might need to go in the meantime.
My daughter pumped me every day about whether or not I wanted to chance it. She sent me face masks and rubber gloves, just in case. I knew that if I opted out, SHE would be the one to eat the airfare and the whole Canada trip. There was no pressure for me to come. The decision was up to me, and I knew it. I didn't want to let anyone down; but then, I considered the realities. The public message was, if you are elderly, stay home. (I'm 73.) If you have underlying conditions, stay home. (I have COPD and heart disease.) With mere days to spare before my flight, it hit me that if I went ahead with our plans, full speed ahead, I would be going against every single medical warning, and if I got sick (or worse, caused my family to be sick because of me), people would declare "What were you thinking?" I would have deserved whatever happened due to bad decisions. I canceled. My family also, then, had to cancel their vacation. (In all fairness, it wasn't just because of me.)
The dominoes began to fall. Schools were closed, so students did "e-learning" from home. Adults who could work from home did. Those who couldn't, either lost their jobs or worked with less income. Restaurants were closed, many of them for good. Government help got weird. Businesses that were still open metered the number of people that could enter their stores and required masks...and then things really got strange. (Still are.) My granddaughter's high school graduation was canceled. Parents and grandparents from three states all over the country had to bail out on their flights and motel reservations. It hurt. Robin started her college courses online in the fall. Her choice. A wise one, I think, even though she is missing out on the social aspects of being on her own, she is also missing out on potential contagion. Since the virus has now taken a huge uptick all over the U.S., people are being advised about how to reintroduce their college students back into the home for the holidays. Robin and family won't have to worry about that.
But I digress. There is no magic bullet to guess or second guess the COVID virus. The bottom line, for me at least, is that the younger folks who will get the virus and survive, or the other folks who get the virus and suffer for months from it may have time to recover and move on with their lives. Perhaps they have people to come home to. I don't. I live alone, and that's what I wish people would understand.
In order to protect myself from the virus, I wear masks. I keep hand sanitizer with me everywhere. I wash my hands. I rarely leave the house, but when I do, I go home to a house in which no one else is allowed. I've been in a semi-patient solitude, hoping the day will come that I will be able to see my beloved family, so far away, again before I die. While people demand their rights to go maskless, to gather in groups without distance between them, to be free to live their lives as they want, I am hunkered down in my little bungalow hoping to be free again, too. It is THEY who have kept the virus going, rising up again like an angry Godzilla. We could have had this disease under control over the past nine months of its presence in our midst, but those who politicized it made it their quest to prove that they are better than a microscopic bug, all the while that the bug was killing people by the hundreds and thousands every day. And every day of my self-preserving solitude ticks off 24 more hours of the hours I have left in life, with or without the disease. Yes, I could get hit by a bus crossing the street, but since I don't go anywhere, that isn't likely. I can tolerate being alone for Thanksgiving. Odds are that I will also be alone for Christmas for the first time in my life. All I want is to see my daughter and family again. Is that too much to ask?
Those who are white-knuckling the holidays on the notion that all can be normal again next year are likely young enough to bank that there will be a next year for them. I don't have that luxury. As of December 27th, it will have been a year since I was able to be with my only daughter and her fantastic husband, and my only grandchildren. That has never happened before. They are as locked down as I am, but they are a band of four. I have never disliked my singleness, but I do now. My nightmare is, right in this moment as I type in this blog, is that I will get sick from whatever and die alone, with no one allowed to be with me.
This isn't selfishness; this is reality. Everyone who has refused to wear masks, have gone to "super-spreader" events, called people like me "snowflake" or "sheeple" have no clue how hard I have worked all my life to raise my child, sustain myself, and to give back to society. Those people keep the virus going when it would have been so easy to comply with recommendations to help slow it down. And now, I have "lost" nine months of my life that I can never get back, just trying to survive long enough to see my family again.
I am angry, hurt, resigned, and otherwise depressed about what is going on. I hope it's worth it for those who want to pound on the Constitution about their rights. The rest of us will lick our wounds and hope for the best.
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