Social distancing is not hard for me as it is already the case to protect my internal workings from being overwhelmed with stimuli. What’s hard is the fear added to the everyday anxiety faced, but that too is manageable.
My biggest concern is our health care workers, and the shortage of protective gear, along with ventilators which there is grievous shortage of. That combined with a double talker of a president who pontificates about it one way, tricking me with hope, but not doing what he eludes to.
He and his cronies can be counted on for one thing, lying with an equal ability to manipulate. Yesterday’s noon news conference turned into poor me as Trumpie went on about fake news that made him look bad. He manages to turn everything into something about himself. Bobble head Pence nods behind him in agreement as always. Once a narcissist always a narcissist.
He surrounds himself with lapdogs with no experience, or knowledge. What they offer is allegiance, not to the country, but to their owner, drooling for acceptance, selling themselves as pets as they pat him on the back over and over.
Trumpie’s own hand pats himself so much I lost count of how many times he said everything’s great, and he is great. He is the world leader at overcoming the corona virus, didn’t you know? If you didn’t, he will tell you. I fell for it needing reassurance so much I believed his lies. I ought to know better.
He has not begun the process of converting factories into producers of ventilators. Hospitals are not receiving help to expand their resources. Rather he bails out his rich friends in the airlines, airlines that can shut down, lay off workers, and take out loans just like the small businesses are expected to do.
He talks the talks as if the most urgent needs are being met, acknowledging the need for ventilators, but then says, we’ll wait and see. That is what stresses my heart like a fist squeezing it in a vise. Breathe, breathe.
“I don’t think about what I can’t control,” Samuel says after some thought.
We sit together by the creek on the first day of spring. The day is warm and balmy with birds that migrated home tweeting happy songs. A few yellow flowers dappled the otherwise drab meadow, evidence that soon an explosion of life will occur.
“You’re lucky,” I respond, a tear squeezing out thinking of all the people needing care but possibly shuffled out into halls or parking lots on stretchers in the near future.
There is some truth to Samuel’s way of coping. He is right. Taking measures to protect the two of us is quite overwhelming. I had started leaving packages outside for a day or two. Also spraying mail with disinfectant leaving it on the bench a few hours before touching it, feeling a little silly doing it.
Then the news explains that it necessary to leave packages outside for a day before opening. Then throw away the package, wash hands, and spray where it sat with disinfectant.
Food being delivered should be dropped at the door avoiding face to face contact. Remove from packages, put in your own bowls, and microwave it. Throw out all packaging, and wash hands. If you think you’re doing too much, you are probably not doing enough.
I wonder how many are not able to do these things as they are still required to report to work, or just haven’t digested the seriousness of this. That would be understandable as we have not encountered such levels of isolation and protective measures in our lifetime.