Alexandersmap

    Tag: COVID-19

    • COVID Truth and Consequences

      “It’s often easier to discover the truth if we believe it’s there in the first place.” – Seth Godin

      Speaking with a gentleman I once worked for a dozen years ago, we quickly caught up on life since the last time we saw each other. You do that with old acquaintances, find the common anchoring points, fill the voids, and reset to the present. In filling voids I’d heard about his brother, who recently passed from complications related to COVID. He spoke of the abruptness of it all, and the hole it left in his heart. He then told me he didn’t believe in the vaccination, felt it was too dangerous to take and he was going to Las Vegas for a trade show this coming week. And my head spun.

      We all choose the information we consume. We all get to decide what’s right for us. The problem we have today is there’s more conflicting information available to choose from than at any point in our history. And we’re choking on it. And it’s killing us.

      There’s no time for all of this. If the truth is that the virus is far deadlier than the vaccine, and far deadlier for those who are unvaccinated, then we have no time to debate ad infinitum whether the vetting process was long enough for the vaccinations. The barbarians are at the gate, throw up the damned defenses. Will there be long term health issues for those who opted to vaccinate? Highly unlikely, but possible. Is the Delta variant accelerating through the unvaccinated at alarming rates? Definitely, and highly probable.

      The truth is out there, but seemingly harder to reach consensus on than ever before. And maybe this is our fate, to stall and debate and wait for the world to fall in line with our beliefs. Knowing all along that it doesn’t really work that way.

    • Delightfully Awkward

      We all remember that awkward phase of wearing a mask in public for the first time last year, as the pandemic was forcing our hand and people slowly woke up to the reality of the danger of COVID-19. The first time I walked into a box store before they required masks on everyone I heard someone talking on their phone, irritated, saying “Everyone is wearing a mask” as he looked squarely at me. As you might have guessed, he wasn’t. Awkward.

      Walking into stores and meeting people I knew before the pandemic for the first time when we were all masked was also a bit awkward. But then it became commonplace. You just wore the damned mask. Not for your own safety but for your regard for others. Those outliers who didn’t wear them were the odd ducks, not us.

      Fast forward to now, and where do we stand? Pockets of this world are in a COVID crisis, other pockets are vaccinated and cases are declining. And now the CDC says you can go out without a mask on if you’re vaccinated. So what’s a vaccinated mask-wearer to do? I haven’t had a cold in over a year. Do I embrace the winds of chance and unmask?

      I suppose I will, slowly at first, but more and more. But the mask thing got weird again, just as we were hitting our masked stride. Awkward.

      I walked into a butcher shop to buy some overpriced meat. I mean 3x what it was a year ago overpriced, and half the people in there were masked and half were unmasked. I’m fully vaccinated and technically don’t have to wear it anymore if I don’t want to. But I’d already put it on to walk in the store – take it off now? I should think not.

      I remembered in the moment why I’d put it on the first time last year. It’s not for me, it’s for those around me. And the people in that store don’t know if I’m vaccinated or not, they just know that I respected them enough to wear a mask for just a bit longer. Or they think I’m a masked nut job, but really, who cares what they think?

      Tomorrow will sort itself out. There will be more awkward moments of mask uncertainty. For this, friends, is what the light at the end of the tunnel looks like.

      Delightfully awkward.

    • Making Antibodies

      It turns out the second Pfizer shot beat me up a bit. Between the 20th hour and the 36th hour seems to have been my scheduled antibody manufacturing time. It began with chills, moved to aches, then lightheadedness. And then it sort of went away for a time. It turns out the vaccine was resting up to double down on the wave of suck. Suddenly I couldn’t get warm, then couldn’t stay cool. My body started aching down my right side (where I got the shot) to my lower back.

      And I’d have done it all over again in a second. If the vaccine beat me up like this I have no doubt the virus would have been 10x worse. Which is an admission this tough guy isn’t comfortable making.

      The takeaway is to get your vaccine whenever you’re on deck. Because I’d love to have you stick around for awhile. Because we have celebrations and travel and some version of normal waiting for us.

      So make some antibodies. It might not be as fun as making pizza or love, but it’s a good way to help get us back to where we all want to be. We’re almost there.

    • A Mirror of Roughness and Honesty

      “The water of a pond is a mirror of roughness and honesty—it gives back not only my own gaze, but the nimbus of the world trailing into the picture on all sides…

      All things are meltable, and replaceable. Not at this moment, but soon enough, we are lambs and we are leaves, and we are stars, and the shining, mysterious pond water itself.” – Mary Oliver, Upstream

      We’re all connected, and that’s never been more apparent. If that pond is indeed a mirror of roughness and honesty it surely tells us a lot about ourselves right now. Political divisiveness, nationalism and now a pandemic all collectively dance around us, joining our “normal” complexities in life, and all a reflective nimbus as we stare at ourselves in that pond. What’s new to us isn’t new to humanity. It’s all been here before and returns once again to show we still have a ways to go.

      I have a lot to write about after this week’s trip to Nashville, but like London and Scotland last fall I’m stepping away for now with stories unwritten. The stories are still fresh but the mind is restless. Stories have their time: This isn’t the time for those I’d planned to write. The weight of the pandemic can weigh you down. Worry about what you can control, not what you can’t. Don’t get roped into the news cycle, but do educate yourself on what to do to get by. I’ve managed to be around way more people than I would have liked this month, but took what precautions I could save scrapping everything and living in isolation.

      “I remember once when I was walking with my teacher Ajahn Chah he pointed to a boulder in a field and asked, “Is that heavy?” I replied, “Yes, of course.” Ajahn Chah smiled and said “Not if you don’t pick it up.” – Jack Kornfield

      There were plenty of people being cavalier about this pandemic in Nashville and in memes on social media. It’s gallows humor on the one hand, but there’s also a bit of active denial going on. I saw many people not “picking it up” over the last few days. Hell, I could be accused of that myself given the travel. Don’t carry the weight of the world, but own your own behavior. All things are meltable and replaceable, and it appears that we’re entering a reckoning.

      So what to do now? Travel is done, hope you didn’t pick up COVID-19. Now continue good hygiene and increase level of social isolation in earnest until you’re sure A) you didn’t pick up the virus already and spread it to others and B) help flatten the curve. Carefully analyze every cough and sneeze. And dive right into the work that needs to be done at home, or find a way to move the chains forward while working from home. But just to keep a sense of optimism, I’m going to plant some basil tomorrow. Gardening brings normalcy back to life, even in rough times. Maybe take a long walk. Far from people of course. Two nice ways to shed some of the weight of the world.

    • The Honky-Tonk Line Between Order and Chaos

      If you like live music, Nashville is your place. If you believe right now mitigation and social distancing are in order, well, it’s not optimal. Every honky-tonk bar you walk by has the back of a drummer facing you and music playing. It must be a madhouse during a normal SEC tournament (cancelled this year), or a normal Spring Break (extended for most out of an abundance of caution), or a normal year for that matter. As everyone knows now, 2020 hasn’t been a normal year. But people here are determined to dance the news away. Broadway in New York has shut down. Walking down Broadway in Nashville the music and neon pulls you in, the sounds of celebration are still there. It turns out there are still people jamming into clubs despite the news. It’s just… tempered a bit. There aren’t as many people but the music is throbbing and people are jamming together dancing and flirting and drinking. There’s a spirit of celebration in this city that’s great to see and be a part of. Just not this particular week.

      I’m not oblivious to the threat, and wash my hands often. Hand sanitizer stations are everywhere and I’m using them. I’m practicing what can be considered social distancing in downtown Nashville, but know the risks are very high here in the clubs. We sat outside in a rooftop bar, but you still wade through humanity when you use the bathrooms or get a drink. Again, not optimal. I brought alcohol swabs to wipe down phones and such but I’m not naive, we’re swimming in the Petri dish being out. There are no surgical mask-wearing dancers bobbing on that dance floor. When I get home I’m self-quarantining myself just to be sure I’m not spreading anything I might have gotten to others.

      This trip was scheduled before the acceleration into madness but we knew what was about to happen. Two days earlier and we’d have thought less about it. Two days later and we would have cancelled. You dance along that line between order and chaos, hoping you don’t lose your balance. Americans love to debate, ignore the future for the present too much, and are resistant to change, but we rally when you punch us in the mouth. That punch hasn’t fully landed on the jaw but the gut punch that preceded it this week has taken the collective breath out of people. Out of an abundance of caution is a familiar phrase to everyone now, even if they aren’t showing it in the honky-tonks just yet.

      Tomorrow seems a long time away with the accelerating news of COVID-19. I left fully prepared for the shortages created as people snap up supplies and the supply chain that fills those shelves is impacted. Perhaps we should have shown an abundance of caution with more abundance, but time will be the jury on that now. We’ve lived deliberately, and tomorrow morning we’ll circle the wagons back at home for an extended and hopefully heathy stay. Today? Today we’ll celebrate life with as much social distancing as travel allows. Pass the soap?

    • An Abundance Of Caution

      I’m not an alarmist, I deliberately avoid watching the hand-wringing news and for the most part I’m not in a high risk category when it comes to coronavirus,or COVID-19. I’ve always been a “hand washer” and I can time the process of washing them with Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star just fine, thank you (instead of that mind worm I use the beginning of Fly Me To The Moon, which conveniently reaches 20 seconds right when you reach the word “hand”). But I’m taking coronavirus seriously.

      I’ve previously mocked people who hoard dust masks (which won’t work), Purell (which may work but won’t protect everyone that can’t get any because of the hoarders), and toilet paper (which is proven to work but how much do you really need anyway?) and will continue to do so. We don’t need self-absorbed behavior right now. We need self-aware behavior; Be prepared, be considerate, be scarce for awhile if necessary. I have enough food to camp at home for a couple of weeks if the same travel restrictions imposed on Italy are imposed on the United States. Contingency plans aren’t panicky or hoarding behavior, just as building a nest egg for retirement is expected one might expect people to have a bit of food ready if needed.

      One phrase, Legal and PR Department-approved, seems to be taking hold as the world reacts to the spread of COVID-19: “Out of an abundance of caution” [fill in with cancellation or new procedure here]. Out of an abundance of caution we’re postponing this trade show. Out of an abundance of caution we’ve temporarily switched from ceramic coffee mugs to disposable cups. Out of an abundance of caution we’ve cancelled all visitor meetings. Out of an abundance of caution we are extending college Spring Break by a week … or in some case, out of an abundance of caution all students will take online classes for the rest of the semester.

      Cancelling the rest of in-class participation for the rest of the semester is an extraordinary step, but logical when your student population consists of a high percentage of people from around the globe. I feel for those students having their very expensive college experience cut short, but I’m a student of history and recognize the devastation a pandemic or plague can cause. Humans have one major predator left in this world besides other humans, and that’s viruses. On the plus side we’ve never been more aware of how to fight this predator, but getting all spun up isn’t helping anything. The world and coronavirus doesn’t owe you anything: deal with it like an adult.

      There’s plenty of examples of taking an abundance of caution too far (I’m looking at you toilet paper hoarder), but it’s a reasonable request to take extra measures now to safeguard against an uncontainable pandemic later. So as we all look around at this strange new reality, make the most of it; work to contribute more to the positive direction of humanity with all that extra time at home instead of binge watching television or 24-hour news. Take walks outside away from the crowds. The world could use a little more sanity right about now. I believe that starts with you and me, kiddo. Ready?