Much learned. Much also lost.
This week marks the one-year anniversary of coronavirus pandemic
Remember when we stupidly believed that COVID-19 would be quarantined to China? And we viewed its deadliness as we do most bad news from other parts of the world, by telling ourselves, “Oh, my, what a shame for those poor people. Sending thoughts and prayers! OK, now what’s for dinner tonight?”
I wrote that previous paragraph one year ago this week, when a looming pandemic seemed like science fiction, not scientific fact. At times, it feels like 10 years have crawled past since that last weekend of normalcy. Other times, it feels like 10 minutes.
This week marks the one-year anniversary of the World Health Organization declaring a global pandemic. A year ago, I remember thinking, “What? Really? Seriously?”
A global pandemic, including our gated community and charmed lives? Nahhhhh.
Yes. Really. Seriously. I remember the first reported coronavirus cases in Indiana and Illinois. Would these cases be anomalies in the epidemic, or canaries in the proverbial coal mine? Instinctively, we turned to our government leaders for reassuring guidance and updated information.
“Because of all we’ve done, the risk to the American people remains very low,” our former president told us during a press briefing at the White House. “A lot of people think it goes away in April with the heat.”
I wondered in a column, “Will warmer weather stop or curb the spread of its outbreak in our country? Would it fade away overseas before reaching us?”
From a layman’s perspective, it seemed possible. From an American’s perspective, it seemed as if we were entitled. Such a catastrophic public health emergency doesn’t happen in the United
States, right? Wrong, we have since learned.
Too many of us believed our president’s wishful thinking and his wrongful misinformation. We can be arrogant like that. And ignorant in the same gasp. We used to be anyway. A half-million deaths from a mysterious virus have humbled us. And scared us.
In early March, 2020, I wrote: “Trust who you want. Believe what you want. But use caution — misinformation is spreading much faster than this virus, and gullibility is contagious. The mask of politics won’t protect you on this one.
This public health emergency is a real one, not fake news.”
That same night, I tried to make light of what would be a very dark chapter in U.S. history. On social media I wrote: “Until now, amid all these COVID-19 concerns, I never realized how often I touch my face, much more often than the average of 20 times an hour. It’s as if I’m a teenager with bad acne and too much time on my hands.”
I’ve made too many bad jokes since last March. It’s my default reaction to potential danger. I can also be too nonchalant about serious circumstances.
“I’m not overly anxious or at all panicked about contracting the COVID-19 from the new coronavirus that’s gradually infecting our country,” I wrote a year ago this week. “I’m not elderly or sickly. I don’t have underlying health problems or respiratory issues.
And for most of my life I’ve been practicing what’s now prescribed to all Americans — “social distancing” from others.
Remember learning this new phrase, along with so many others, from asymptomatic to super-spreader? Remember when the Spanish Flu was merely a dusty page in history with no relevance to modern life in America? Remember when corona was a beer and not a virus?
One year later, we’re now well versed in pandemicspeak and its realities.
Lockdown. Flattening the curve. Herd immunity. Hydroxychloroquine. Personal protective equipment. Self-quarantine. Contact tracing. Pandemic bubbles.
We’ve learned how to properly wash our hands. How to properly wear face masks. How to politely avoid hugs, instead offering elbow “handshakes.” And how to use Zoom technology for virtual meetings, birthdays, funerals, anniversaries and holidays.
This pandemic has especially cruel to older people. Some have had to bump back their retirement plans. Others have had to live alone, severed from society and its routine comforts. Too many have had to avoid seeing their grandchildren. Loneliness has shadowed them like a dark cloud that never blew over.
We’ve watched local businesses close for good. We’ve witnessed vaccine desperation in our communities. We’ve bookmarked public health webpages for updated COVID-19 figures and rising death statistics.
On March 12, 2020, I wrote, “To keep Hoosiers informed in real time, Indiana State Department of Health offers a new webpage with a map of confirmed coronavirus cases, updated figures, and signup alerts. We are nowhere near the peak of COVID-19, and no one yet knows how much of our nation will be affected by it. I’m not being alarmist, only realistic.”
Since that naïve time in our lives, we’ve scrambled to retain shreds of normalcy. We’ve adapted new lifestyle changes. We’ve adopted public restrictions that first seemed silly, then felt protective, as if we left our homes in a suit of armor. Or so we told ourselves. And we continue telling ourselves as we head into the second year of this global crisis.
We haven’t yet escaped its grasp. Those thoughts and prayers for strangers in a foreign country are still needed for us as well.
This week, on the pandemic’s paper anniversary, the only gift is our takeaways from it. Oh, and all that stockpiled toilet paper.