Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 188 Lockdown-Everybody! Do It!
September 29, 2020—Day 188 SA Lockdown; Day 200 US Lockdown:
Ben Does It Swinging
That is 6 months, 4 days of my personal Lockdown, isolation, social distancing, virtual meetings, constant low-level/high-level anxiety . . . Yes, if you are in the U.S and caring, your Lockdown count should be higher. (I was blissfully holidaying, cavorting, hugging, karaoking in S.A. when the U.S. public was made aware of the treat, otherwise my Lockdown day count would be 200, too.)
Worldwide: More than One Million people are confirmed dead from CoVid. That is 1,000,000 children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, neighbors, colleagues, friends gone.
SA: 672,000 confirmed cases; 16,586 deaths; US: 7.18 million cases; 205,000 deaths.
And still, every day I am out—which is every day as I am one of the lucky (healthy) people who can get out—I see people either not wearing masks when within 6 ft perimeter of others, and what’s worse sort of waggling said masks about as if they were accessories and not necessities.
Jack Does it PIcking Blueberries
In the meantime, my mother, who lives in an assisted living facility, has not been outside, or had a casual visitor in 200 days. Day before yesterday, Mom called, delighted—and a tad nervous, but in that “I’m going to the prom” way to announce that they were reopening the dining room on Oct. 1st.
Mom, had her outfit all picked out for that first dinner “out.” What’s more, I’d just a few days earlier, received a note that the facility, officially Co-Vid free, was exploring how to allow visitors! Of which I, would absolutely be one!
So much for that fantasy… One of Mom’s primary caregivers, Chelsie. The “adorable girl” who brings mom art supplies, rubs her arthricit feet, fixes her hair and puts in earrings—brings light, joy, music into my mom’s tiny room—just tested positive with CoVid. Chelsie is home ill. Not in the hospital. And hopefully will not need to be hospitalized.
…You Can Too! Just do It!
I can not help wondering, who contaminated Chelsie—an “essential worker” the only barrier between Mom and other at-risk people: children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, neighbors, colleagues, friends . . .
My new favorite compliment:
Love Your Mask!
