Tag Archives: coronavirus

I’m not scared, YOU’RE scared!

It’s nearly August and the Coronavirus continues to spread, largely unchecked, in America. Likewise, on social media, the mask debate rages on. (I bet other countries are surprised to learn that there even IS such a thing as a mask debate in this country. But that’s the topsy-turvy, Alice-in-Wonderland version of the US we’re living in, sadly, during this Trump administration.)

In 2015, I did a blog post on the topic of “Living Fearless” because that’s long been a motto that I try to live by. Which is why I get so annoyed by anti-maskers who believe that those of us advocating compliance with masking mandates are “living in fear.” 

Basement dwellers and other myths

“I feel sorry for them, cowering in their basements…afraid to go out and live their lives,” they write…while congratulating each other for their bravery in “standing up for freedom.”  

Let me just say: No, no and NO. This is not an accurate assessment of anyone I know who is an advocate of wearing masks.

Speaking for myself, I can assure you that I’m not living in fear of catching the Coronavirus. While COVID-19 cases range from asymptomatic to annoying to deadly, I believe that my catching it would be more likely to result in inconvenience than hospitalization. However, all of the evidence has shown that it’s quite contagious, can be transmitted unknowingly, and can have long-term and lethal consequences in some instances—particularly for people who aren’t as healthy as me. Therefore, I consider it a moral imperative that I take sensible precautions to protect others. 

Let’s repeat them together: 

Fear is not my motivation for these actions. But having a healthy respect for science and a willingness to be inconvenienced for the sake of other people? Guilty as charged. In other words, I plead guilty to being a considerate human being. 

Let’s baaaaaaaaand together and beat this thing

Another annoying response to any online mask debate is the troll who will invariably respond with this gif:

Running a close second to the Haha emoji in its ubiquity, the implication is that those who follow these public health rules are sheep and not free-thinkers. Again…no.

Sure, a lot of respected leaders are asking people to wear masks. But do you know why? Because they work. And sometimes, knowledgeable people share their experience for the greater good—so others don’t have to learn the hard way. It doesn’t mean that the people who follow the lead of experts aren’t capable of making a decision on their own. It means they are exercising common sense. Take the old stick-your-tongue-on-a-frozen-flagpole gambit. You can ask 20 intelligent adults if this is a good idea and chances are not one of them will recommend it. So, are you a sheep if you follow their advice, or are you…maybe…just…wise? 

(Spoiler Alert: Here’s how that would turn out for ya.)

I believe that what so many people are interpreting as fear or herd mentality is in fact exasperation and frustration. Most Americans were under a stay-at-home order from mid-March through the end of April and even longer. We collectively sacrificed our relationships with friends and family, our jobs, our children’s schooling, our ability to see our aging parents. We missed out on weddings, graduations and funerals. Lives were lost. Businesses were shuttered. It was a huge sacrifice, but we started to flatten the curve…and see the light at the end of the tunnel…

…But then we opened everything up much too quickly and in the span of a few weeks, erased most of the progress we had made. 

Those who are advocating for the three common-sense measures (one more time for the guys in the back of the room)…

…are doing so, not because they are scared, but simply because they are tired of all this. They want to get on with their lives. They want to save our economy. They want the kids to be able to go back to school. And they want their friends, neighbors and relatives to lead long healthy lives. How to manage this pandemic is no mystery. Dozens and dozens of countries—even many third-world (or as Trump called them “shithole”) countries—have successfully handled it using the steps above.

In fact, people in those countries are somewhat confounded by the fact that America is doing so poorly when we have so much relative wealth compared to many of the countries that have beat this thing. They actually pity us for our poor leadership and our cut-off-our-nose-to-spite-our-face stubbornness. 

So, to circle back to the theme of this blog, I ask you: Who is scared? 

  • Is it the Frustrated, Exhausted Working Mom or Dad, juggling Zoom meetings and online classes, conscientiously limiting interactions with others, wearing a mask, and washing her hands? 
  • Or is it the Don’t-Tread-On-Me Individualist defying public health recommendations and harassing shop owners who are trying to protect their employees and customers? 

I contend that the true “Scaredy Cats” are the Don’t-Tread-On-Me Crowd. They are doubling-down on the mask issue because they are too scared to learn that all of their outrage and anger—at science, the media, and our liberal governors—has been misplaced. Too scared to discover that they’ve been contributed to the loss of lives and livelihoods for tens of thousands of innocent Americans.

If the latter group truly believes that this is all just a “plandemic,” and wants to refute my scaredy-cat claim, then let’s settle this debate with a Triple Dog Dare: There is a very easy way for you to prove yourselves right. Just follow the mandate for eight weeks and see what happens.  

Many public health officials agree that with uniform compliance it would take only 6-8 weeks to turn things around. So let’s try it. If it doesn’t work and I’m proven wrong, I will be the first to admit it here. Go ahead, America, I dare you! 

Rising to the occasion—we can do it!*

*If we really have to…and yes…we really have to.

When the Coronavirus pandemic hit the US in full-force, KitKat and I—like others around the world—went into “stay-at-home” mode. With additional time on my hands, I figured “There’s a blog post in all this…” However, I couldn’t figure out what to write about. I know that, compared to a lot of other people dealing with this situation, I’m very, very fortunate. Because—in addition to those who are literally dying from this pandemic—there are many others who are living through incredibly stressful scenarios. To name a few:

  • Going to work each day in healthcare without adequate PPE.
  • Being stuck in their homes with an abusive partner.
  • Not being at the hospital bedside of a loved one struggling with COVID-19.
  • Providing “essential services” at close to minimum wage and putting oneself at risk.
  • Facing sudden unemployment with no emergency savings.
  • Trying to work while supervising school for small children in a too-small apartment.
  • Small business owners struggling to keep their business alive despite being deemed “non-essential.”
  • Having a compromised immune system and being terrified to go outside or get necessities.
  • Being homeless with no way to protect oneself from illness.
  • Living alone and facing incredible loneliness.
  • Not being able to visit one’s elderly parents for risk of infecting them.

Actually, the last one of these is the only one that applies to me, but that’s a story for later. KitKat is dealing with a couple of these challenges as well, but both of us are relatively lucky as far as these things go. After living in this Brave New World of Global Pandemic for a few weeks, however, a theme has emerged that I’d like to touch on. It’s about resiliency.

You’ve probably seen memes similar to this one:

The implication seems to be that today’s youth are a bunch of wussies** compared to previous generations—particularly compared to The Greatest Generation. It’s easy to see where this perception comes from when I think of some of the haircare-related memes and messages floating through my social media feed lately:

I can see the humor in these and have even “shared” a couple. However, the underlying message—Do NOT try to cut or color your hair yourself!—annoys me.

While I appreciate the skills of a good hairstylist as much as the next person, we’re not talking about doing brain surgery on yourself here. If you’re adhering to the mandate to stay at home and find you can no longer stand your gray roots, then by all means—use a box dye and color your own hair. The world will not come to an end. In fact, millions of people who can’t afford or aren’t willing to pay for in-salon color do this all the time. You can’t pick them out on the street and, as far as I know, nobody has died from it (but you might want to Google “hot roots” first). Same with cutting your own hair. Plenty of people do it. And if you don’t like the results, hair grows back. Once this pandemic is over, you may decide to continue with the DIY or you might appreciate your hairstylist even more. But either way, you’ll learn that you can survive a temporary salon shutdown—and isn’t that empowering?

I’m not using this example to pick on hairstylists. My point is: You can do whatever you need to do to get through this. Of course, you can! I believe that this generation is no less strong than the ones that came before us. We just haven’t had as many opportunities to exercise our resiliency.

Another example: Technology. I’m one of those people who can’t live without my smartphone. But you know what? I actually could if I had to. Heck, I lived successfully for 30 years without one. I know it can be done. And, while it’s certainly a nice-to-have when quarantined, it’s also possible to live without cable TV or online streaming. One of my favorite stories involves Lucky telling me how her friends in middle school pitied her because our family was ‘too poor to have cable.’ I informed her that we could easily afford cable (we had just taken the whole family on a not-inexpensive trip to China and Japan) but chose not to have it. Her mind was blown.

Another example: Cooking. Restaurants are closed and while many people are ordering takeout/delivery to support those establishments, there are others who are fretting because they don’t know how to cook. Here’s a thought: Rather than doom yourself to Kraft mac-and-cheese and frozen dinners, try cooking. It’s really not that hard and it actually gets easier with practice. Many of you have the time, so what better way to use it than developing a skill that will serve you well for the rest of your life? Again, it’s not likely to kill you. Even a bad meal can usually be eaten—and you learn better from the mistakes than the successes. Julia Childs herself advised, “Learn how to cook. Try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all, have fun.”

Give it a shot! There’s no better feeling than know you have the ability to indulge your every culinary whim. In fact, tackling something that you find daunting is a sure-fire way to build resiliency and gain confidence in your ability to withstand challenges. And couldn’t we all use that kind of mental boost right now?

I referenced The Greatest Generation earlier. My parents were both of the GG and I have the utmost respect for the sacrifices they made. However, I don’t believe that they had some special strength imbued in them that skipped subsequent generations. I think their bravery and resilience were just qualities that they honed through use. They had to regularly flex their resiliency muscles to survive the tough times they lived through.

As I mentioned earlier, the last item in the earlier list of hardships applies to me. On March 7th we moved my elderly mother into Memory Care and the following week, her senior living community—like others around the country—banned visitors. During the window between move-out and visitor-ban, my sister and I were cleaning out Mom’s apartment when I came across some items of great sentimental value—my dad’s letters to his parents and my mother during World War II, when he was a 17/18/19-year-old serving his country. It was fun to read his letters and hear my dad’s voice in them. (My dad had suffered dementia for many years before he passed away in 2017, so this was a new glimpse into the man whose loss I had long since grieved.)

Stormy’s dad (at right) with a friend on Guam

When one thinks of a war-time letter, it’s easy to romanticize the dedication to the cause, the call-to-duty, the patriotism, etc., “Dearest Mother, tomorrow I face my greatest challenge. Defending my country against the evil threatening our very democracy. I pray that God guides my feet and instills bravery in my heart as I meet the deadly foe…” or some such noble prattle. That’s not what these letters contained. Here’s an actual excerpt from my dad writing to his step-dad about serving on Guam (where he guarded Japanese prisoners as well as “important provisions”—like beer and cigarettes):

“There was one other question you asked and that was what I did in my spare time. When I’m not on watch, I’m either sleeping, eating, laying down or sitting down. I’ve given up all forms of exercise except walking and that’s essential. When I first got here, I used to throw the ball around a little, but this climate wasn’t made for that, so I gave it up. It’s really too hot around here to do too much of anything. Don’t misunderstand me ’cause it’s not that I’ve grown lazy, just too much heat.”

My dad’s other letters likewise contained evidence of boredom. He wrote about the tedium of Navy life, exchanged comments about topics pertaining to friends and family back home, and begged for more mail to break up the dull routine. In one letter that made me smile, he asked his mom to find him a lighter because his stopped working (like many of his peers, my dad smoked cigarettes when he was young but fortunately had quit by the time I came along).

Again, I’m not minimizing my dad’s service or anyone of his generation. Harold, my mother-in-law’s partner, was a ball-turret gunner during WWII. He flew 35 combat missions over Germany, so to call him brave would be a serious understatement. Yet, I suspect his letters back home were probably as unassuming as my father’s, simply because that’s the kind of man Harold was. Heroic, yes, but modest and humble. He just did what was required of him at the time. And when it was no longer required of him, he happily went back to farming.

Both my father and Harold had hard childhoods. Both lost their own dads when they were young children. Both grew up in poverty. No doubt, these earlier life challenges helped build within them the resiliency that later served them well in dealing with the challenges of WWII.

And our time is now. We’re all being called upon to help defeat a common threat and to succeed, all of us need to do what is required. There is heroism in that, too, even if all we’re required to do is stay away from each other. By helping each other get through this crisis, we are building our own resiliency. And let’s not overlook the true heroes among us. The healthcare worker in New York City who shows up each day despite not having adequate PPE is no less heroic than Harold flying those combat missions over Germany. These brave, selfless people are serving others despite a very real threat to their health. We all owe them a debt of gratitude, and we certainly owe them the respect of adhering to social-distancing guidelines so we don’t overwhelm (or further overwhelm) our local healthcare systems.

This pandemic got me thinking of my favorite passage from the children’s classic, “A Little Princess,” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The main character, Sara Crewe, contemplates whether she is actually a decent person or whether it just appears that way because she’s lived a charmed life and has never had her character tested:

“Things happen to people by accident. A lot of nice accidents have happened to me. It just happened that I always liked lessons and books and could remember things when I learned them. It just happened that I was born with a father who was beautiful and nice and clever and could give me everything I liked. Perhaps I have not really a good temper at all, but if you have everything you want and everyone is kind to you, how can you help but be good-tempered? I don’t know how shall I ever find out whether I am really a nice child or a horrid one. Perhaps I’m a hideous child, and no one will ever know, just because I never have any trials.”

If you’ve read the book, you know that after Sara says this her life becomes rather wretched—testing her in ways she never could have expected. Yet she perseveres in dealing with her new challenges without becoming “horrid” or “hideous.” She discovered—like many of us are learning now—that the only way to build resiliency is by practicing it.

**Yes, that’s how you spell it, Barbigrrrl. 🙂