9:00AM
In just a few moments, I will head to the local supermarket to pick up our order. We reserved a time slot approximately one week ago and placed an order for all the groceries we would need. In one way, I feel amazed that technology has progressed so far in my life that this is possible just by the internet on my phone. In another way, I feel really surprised that my family has shifted to this mode, but when the environment really changes, I guess so do we.
I read about the many states that are starting to open up more and I don’t know how I feel. I want to feel grateful and yet a big part of me feels really suspicious and worried. I understand that we can’t hunker down for one year to fight off this virus, at some point we’ll have to come out of our caves. I hope that we’ll get more informed about who is most at-risk and prevent these people from coming into contact with others who are actively carrying the virus, leaving it just to the people who were previously exposed (assuming they now have temporary immunity, which we don’t know yet). I hope that contact tracing will actually work. I hope that a drug treatment or other type of treatment will arrive that will reduce the severity of the virus, preventing people from dying and having known long-term side effects—we still don’t know if there are any long-term effects for people who are asyptomatic.
I think I worry the most about who we’ve deemed the “frontline workers.” The people in the supermarkets, hospitals, police, fire, food banks, and other places that have to interact with the public, and sometimes the knowingly sick public. I worry that, as we open up, there will be more cases, and we may again flood hospitals with patients who are likely to suffocate to death in front of our nurses and doctors. I worry deeply about the well-being of these people who have to see death over and over again, and what seems like a gruesome death—starving for oxygen while no loved one can be by their side.
Again, I understand there are downsides to every decision. I understand that we can’t all just sit at home forever—the fact that I have been able to do so rather comfortably shows just how fortunate my current situation is. I just want to keep my heart open to those who may have to feel the brunt of these policies. I can’t imagine seeing what looks like a war zone happen, while surrounded by what looks like peace. This hidden, invisible war happening, while the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming, and everything looks normal and vibrant.
So I’m grateful that the supermarket does pickup. I don’t have to leave my car, they bring it to me, and as a result, I’m not exposing them to my potential sickness and they hopefully feel more safe in their jobs. Feeling very grateful.
9:10AM
