Last month was the longest year in the world, wasn’t it??
I mean, think back. During the first week of March, Pete Buttigieg and Elizabeth Warren dropped out of the presidential primary. That was a month ago. A time when I was absorbed by little besides presidential politics, the carbohydrate content of my gummy vitamins (high!) and the prospect of my parents watching the boys so Dave and I could go out to dinner for my birthday.
It happened really quickly, didn’t it? I mean, we still went out for that birthday dinner, and that was March 6th or 7th or something. Granted, the table of dudes next to us spend their whole meal speculating about whether or not there’d been a coronavirus outbreak at the skilled nursing facility across the street from the restaurant, and our Lyft driver endorsed a dramatic slowdown in activity, but still… restaurants were open. Going out to dinner (and hitching a ride in a stranger’s personal vehicle to get there) still felt like a safe thing to do.
Just a few days after that, I stopped in to the Alki starbucks with the boys before our walk. Cuz kids still need cake pops, right?? It looked like this:
I mean, given that the first case of coronavirus in Washington state was back in January, it now seems really obvious that this upheaval to our daily routines was grossly delayed. But we were also getting these absolutely ignorant, misguided, ultimately LETHAL statements from the president at that exact same time. That “it will go away. Just stay calm. It will go away” (March 10th). That “there’s nothing we could have done better” than close borders to a handful of countries with higher numbers of confirmed cases (March 13th). Just waiting, not taking action, issuing these statements that completely misrepresent the reality of the situation. It’s almost this same day that the doors to a lot more rooms in our hospital start to look like this:
So clearly, things change quickly. I’m not entirely sure that I have a point to this post. Not really anything specific I’m trying to relay, besides the fact that life can go from “playing outside!” to “no one can sit down in the coffee shop!” to “DON’T BREATHE THE AIR IN THE ROOM YOU’RE ABOUT TO ENTER, MMMKAY?” quite speedily. (Not as speedily as it should have, but… well… don’t get me started on the electoral college.)
I do have to wrap this up with a shout-out to our ICU nurses though. As a preface, I have never worked in critical care. I’ve never had any desire to work in critical care. I like having a place to send my patients when they tank, and simply don’t long to be the end of the line as far as acuity goes. That being said, I spent a shift last week as a “runner” (a gopher for meds and supplies and things that no one can leave a room to get once they’re in full PAPR regalia) in the ICU that’s taking the critically ill covid-19 patients, and OH BOY. Those nurses and doctors are getting hit HARD. I’ve never seen a floor completely full of vented/proned patients like that. They are taking care of the sickest of the sick, and doing all they can under some incredibly brutal circumstances. I left that day feeling full of gratitude for the amazing work they’re doing. While we’re all doing our part to keep the population healthy, they’re bearing the brunt of a mass of critical patients with a lot of grit and compassion, and I’m more grateful than I’ve ever been for all those badasses. I don’t have the balls for that environment, but thank God they do.
Oh, and for the record? People are sending some delicious sweets to the hospital these days. It’s as true in April as it was in March: pandemics remain a horrible time to abstain from simple carbohydrates. #ineveratethepretzels
on this & that 