Coronavirus Chronicles: The long haul
Day 25. As much as I'm hoping we're halfway through the isolation, I'm realistically thinking we're at a third. Fifty more days puts us at May 28 -- after Memorial Day. That seems far off but really isn't. I'll be happy with somewhere in between.
There are signs that the pandemic is slowing in Utah, but I have a weird feeling it's about to spike here and we're being lulled into a false sense of security. I hope I'm wrong, but even a little jump probably closes the schools for the rest of the year and cancels out May. If things go back to normal too soon and the disease comes roaring back here (well, everywhere), we'll go back to sheltering in place into June -- and I don't think people are ready for that.
The pandemic is becoming really devastating in other parts of the country. I've resisted looking at websites with confirmed cases and death tolls, but I know today was the worst day nationally, and nothing is suggesting the disease is slowing down. Sure, some places are flattening out, but others aren't even close to peaking.
Lori went to Costco today and was fortunate to score some toilet paper among her shopping. Yesterday, she went grocery shopping, and I did the day before. A caterer is selling foodstuffs to the public, and Lori ordered yeast and flour, which we couldn't find anyplace (everyone in Utah seems to be baking; Lori made homemade pizzas one night and they were yummy). A friend made some masks for us if we need to go someplace where we're close to others, but for now, we are set on groceries for at least two weeks, including Easter.
Lori and I both feel at ease now. The grocery shopping has been stressing her out; the idea of not being prepared for what the next few weeks may was gnawing at me. Now, we can settle into our isolation for a good chunk of April. That's not to say we hadn't been settled in before, but there's nothing imminent, nothing urgent. If things improve in Utah or go berserk, we'll be safe and supplied at home.
And, as Lori reminded me today in a Facebook post, we'll also be grateful. The little victories and the knowledge of how lucky we are make the long haul much easier.
There are signs that the pandemic is slowing in Utah, but I have a weird feeling it's about to spike here and we're being lulled into a false sense of security. I hope I'm wrong, but even a little jump probably closes the schools for the rest of the year and cancels out May. If things go back to normal too soon and the disease comes roaring back here (well, everywhere), we'll go back to sheltering in place into June -- and I don't think people are ready for that.
The pandemic is becoming really devastating in other parts of the country. I've resisted looking at websites with confirmed cases and death tolls, but I know today was the worst day nationally, and nothing is suggesting the disease is slowing down. Sure, some places are flattening out, but others aren't even close to peaking.
Lori went to Costco today and was fortunate to score some toilet paper among her shopping. Yesterday, she went grocery shopping, and I did the day before. A caterer is selling foodstuffs to the public, and Lori ordered yeast and flour, which we couldn't find anyplace (everyone in Utah seems to be baking; Lori made homemade pizzas one night and they were yummy). A friend made some masks for us if we need to go someplace where we're close to others, but for now, we are set on groceries for at least two weeks, including Easter.
Lori and I both feel at ease now. The grocery shopping has been stressing her out; the idea of not being prepared for what the next few weeks may was gnawing at me. Now, we can settle into our isolation for a good chunk of April. That's not to say we hadn't been settled in before, but there's nothing imminent, nothing urgent. If things improve in Utah or go berserk, we'll be safe and supplied at home.
And, as Lori reminded me today in a Facebook post, we'll also be grateful. The little victories and the knowledge of how lucky we are make the long haul much easier.
Comments