THIS SHIT GOT REAL

NOTE: I wrote and published this one before I added the Daily Musings, which is why it feels stuck in the middle.  Still relevant though.
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Nobody's laughing anymore.  Only a handful of idiots (mostly a few Red State politicians, some diehard partiers and...well, the current "President" of the United States) are taking this lightly.  I said two posts ago that Seattle was not a ghost town.  Now it is.

Here are today's numbers, to compare to my two previous posts on this topic:  Coronavirus worldwide: 460,065 cases; 20,828 deaths.  U.S.: 61,062 cases (including someone I know well); 20,828 deaths.  Washington State: 2469 cases (including someone I know well); 123 deaths.  The county in which I live: 614 cases; 16 deaths.

Many states, including here in Washington, are now on a "stay at home" order decreed by the Governor.  No one is to go out and about unless absolutely necessary -- for food, medications, essential services, work.  We can be out in nature going for walks and such if we keep a physical distance of at least 6 feet from other people.  Restaurants, bars, many retail stores, churches, gyms, theaters, etc etc etc are closed.  Meetings are cancelled (no gatherings allowed), weddings and funerals postponed.  Businesses closed; people are working from home.  Even the big Boeing assembly plant is shut down.   Health care providers and hospitals are begging people to stay home and stop the spread and alleviate the stress on hospitals and supplies which are in high demand and stunningly short supply.  I won't go into all the details here -- it is well documented and "coronavirus 2020" will show up in history books, no doubt.  This is a very consequential and terrifying period in our collective lives.

As for me:   Anxiety waxes and wanes.  At times I feel calm and secure in the knowledge that I am being so incredibly careful and sticking incredibly close to home that this thing can't catch me.  Then I'll feel a headache coming on, or a scratchy throat, or a little throat-clearing cough and I'm suddenly doing a body scan and counting on my fingers the days since I last saw someone outside my home or perhaps touched a surface and then my face unconsciously.  Then the anvil sits on my chest and I'm sure I can't breathe, which makes all the "symptoms" more pronounced.  I recognize it as an attack of anxiety and start my meditative breathing to calm the nervous system....and on it goes.

Hub and I are deadly serious about our physical distancing plan, only going out for groceries weekly, at the early morning designated "senior hours" at local supermarkets and Costco, implemented to try to shield older people from the general population.  It's been 16 days since I've seen any friends; 10 days for Hub.  We had our grandkids stay with us last week while their parents were traveling.  We are relieved they made it home before further limits on air travel took effect.  We loved having the girls with us, but now that they are home with their mom and dad, we are not sure when we will see them again.  They are all sticking close to home too, all of us fearful of inadvertently passing something along, unbeknownst.

This virus is most unforgiving to those over 60 and/or with underlying health conditions.  Hub and I are fortunate that we are basically healthy enough overall, but we are definitely on the over the hump side of 60.  Hub celebrated his 70th birthday last week, party postponed. At our ages, there is no longer a perfect health profile.

It's hard to describe how all of this is impacting us.  It's surrealistic; it's lonely; it's unsettling; it's chaotic; it's terrifying.  It's also oddly relieving to NOT have to keep up with the frantic pace of life; to be ordered to stay home and hunker down.  There is nowhere to go; nothing to do; no one we have to see.  As an introvert, I fluctuate between reveling in the open spaciousness of my days and feeling like "OMG, I'm trapped!"

And just saying that points to my privilege.  We have a big, warm, lovely home in a great neighborhood with all the amenities and plenty of food, entertainment options, access to email, text, Zoom, social media, etc.  We are retired and have enough money for now to see us through. (The stock market has crashed, though, so we will see how that goes over time.)  We love each other and enjoy each other's company, so being together is fun and comforting.  (I cannot even go there to the domestic violence and child abuse situations this stressful lockdown might be fostering, in some homes.)

I am grateful for so much right now -- for the new relationships forming online, for the many acts of compassion and care I'm witnessing in the local and wider community, for the seriousness with which many of us are making the sacrifices needed to slow the spread and "flatten the curve" of this outbreak, for selfless and dedicated health care workers who run into the fire every day at great risk to themselves, for families who are creatively finding ways to connect and be in touch supporting and encouraging and loving all the more, for finding that all we take for granted comes with no guarantee.  All we have and think is permanent is built on sand that can shift from under us at any moment.

Some are urging "social isolation".  I get it, but isolating socially is a lonely road and not accurate.  We need to practice physical distancing and social solidarity.  We are all in this together.  Find a way to reach out.

At least, that's the view from here...©