That time we had a pandemic
Day 25
Wow, it's been a while since I've updated this blog. I have thought about doing that in between the last post and today but haven't really found the time. Seems the only thing I have right now, though, while sheltering in place, is time, my thoughts and my laptop.
On 1 March, New York had its first known case of covid-19 - a woman who traveled from Iran. Today, 5 April, a month and a few days later, we're now known as the new hotspot for the virus. The death toll is the US today at more than 9,000, 65,000 globally. Worldwide, there has been 1,200,000 confirmed cases. Those numbers are tough to understand - I've known people who have had the illness and luckily, have recovered. Travel restrictions around the world have placed airline companies no choice but to ground planes. Fearful that the virus would easily be contracted in enclosed spaces such as an airplane, few people have ventured to travel gravely reducing the profitability of maintaining routes with barely enough revenue seats. Major events such as the Euro 2020, Wimbledon, marathons, baseball seasons, basketball games have been cancelled or postponed. The Tokyo Olympics will now happen in July 2021.
Most of my days are spent in the Manhattan apartment. The weekdays are easier because work have decided to maintain our regular schedule of meetings, recruitments and reporting. Mondays will always be Mondays and regardless of a much shorter commute (from my bed to a makeshift standing desk aka formerly my entry console), I don't shutdown and finish work until it is past 8PM. Some colleagues have traveled home in anticipation that this would be a longer stretch than generally planned. But thanks to technology and the magic of high speed internet, we are ale to keep in touch though WhatsApp, Skype, MS Teams ot the many other options available on real time.
Everyday the ambulance sirens fill the otherwise quieter city. The playgrounds have been closed and people are not allowed to gather in groups so it's been unusually peaceful. In my building, most of my neighbors have stayed and like myself, keeping much to their own space.
New York have decided not to proceed with more a Draconian alternative such as what Italy has done - a lockdown where streets are manned by carabinieris. Shelter in place allows limited mobility - doing the groceries or picking up meds at the pharmacy. Most restaurants have closed, a few that remain open only allow delivery or pick-up. But there's a certain level of paranoia about a virus that is a complete unknown. Do you breathe it from the air, do the virus stay on surfaces that you can pick up? New Yorkers that leave their apartments have learned a polite fandango of steering away from others and maintaining at least 6 feet distance between. as of yesterday, we're now asked to wear masks when we go outside of our homes, donning them with our nitrile gloves and making sure to disinfect everything you've taken from outside when you return home.
So much uncertainty - about how long this will last, how life will be like when we return to normal, whichever that would look like. There's fear of losing anyone we love. And when you live at least one long haul flight away, if you can even be there to hold their hand when the time comes. Apparently, not.
It is a sad way to die, too. Because it requires being isolated to limit its spread, many patients never get to see family while they are in hospital.
This must be what war feels like. That damning feeling of wanting it desperately to stop but not having the control over it. So much death is anticipated, but you are not sure where it will attack. Nor that if we have the right ammunition for it.
New York,
2 April 2020