Remember, we’re all in this together
Acalamitous week has followed an anxious couple of months as the scope of the coronavirus emergency unfolded.
And we haven’t particularly acted nobly.
In the best of times a national or global crisis is difficult. In times of divisiveness and distrust they are made worse.
This new virus made its way to humans amid these unsettled conditions: a rising anti-immigrant sentiment around the world; distrust of government institutions and news organizations; a flood of misinformation and conspiracy theories on social media; political divisiveness; a lack of coherent leadership, and a worldwide failure to sustain pandemic preparedness.
The roller-coaster stock market has cratered repeatedly this week and the tallying of layoffs, especially in the travel and hospitality industries, began. The inequities in our health care system were laid bare by testing snafus, initial large out-of-pocket expenses for some and Senate Republicans’ continual fight against mandatory sick pay laws (32 million American workers do not get sick pay).
Meanwhile, some reacted by hoarding toilet paper, respiratory masks and hand sanitizer, endangering the supply of the latter two items for those in greatest need. Coronavirus scams blossomed on the internet. Many went into survivalist mode with our every-person-for-themselves attitudes on full display.
It makes me want to stay home and brood until it’s over.
But it may never be over. COVID-19 is a new viral disease, and researchers are working tirelessly to figure out whether it’s seasonal, how it acts, how it should be treated and on the development of a vaccine. This takes time.
A widely cited 2012 report from a group of British scientists says there are 219 virus species known to infect humans, and a handful more are discovered each year. We’ve had virus scares in the past, including with Ebola, SARS, MERS, West Nile and Zika. We had the swine flu pandemic in 2009, but I don’t recall much panic over it, perhaps because it was more akin to the seasonal flu.
There certainly will be newly discovered viruses in the future, and perhaps the lessons we’re learning now (wash your hands often and thoroughly) will stick with us. We must ensure that funding for pandemic preparation is not cut when the crisis of the moment fades, as it has been in the past and as evidenced by the global haphazard response.
For now, our part is to buy those scientists time by limiting the spread of the coronavirus.
Our initial reactions are somewhat understandable, given the conflicting information and wildly differing government actions taken as the virus spread.
In Colorado, we were told to prepare as we do for a multiday snowstorm, which usually means stop at the grocery store for a few things (and for some, get to the mountains and ski). The Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment and the national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention posted tips and information. The Environmental Protection Agency issued a list of antimicrobial products to use against the virus.
We didn’t worry much until it “arrived.”
By that time, drastic measures were being taken worldwide and public health officials were warning that it was coming to the U.S. and that it could be widespread.
People were stuck on cruise ships, and Americans arriving home from China were taken to military bases for 14 days of quarantine. The daily positive test and death counts slapped at our growing fear.
This week the actions ramped up significantly: Italy shut down; travel from Europe to the U.S. was restricted for 30 days; schools were closed and colleges moved classes to online; churches closed; the NCAA tournament and all championships were cancelled and the NBA suspended play; major festivals and concerts were canceled; Disneyland parks in California closed for the remainder of March, and many companies told employees to work from home.
As the ground rapidly shifts under us, we realize how interconnected the world is and how difficult and strange life becomes as we shut things down. It is scary, and we may be uncertain about how much to curtail our own activities.
It reminds me of the days immediately after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, when our skies were emptied of planes and everything seemed to slow as we reeled from the shock.
I try to imagine what it would be like if everyone stayed in home “quarantine” for two weeks. That’s an impossible fairy tale, of course, because we have such things as hospitals and nursing homes and emergency services and utilities to run. Our food supply would be rotting on trains and trucks and in warehouses. We can’t all work from home — and some people don’t have a home.
Besides, it would give people far too much time to immerse themselves in the hapless social media conspiracy theories and misinformation.
So, as we venture out cautiously with scrubbed hands, let’s take the precautions that we can. Even if we must keep each other at arm’s length, we can be caring and kind — and share what we need emotionally and physically to get through what may be an ever-lengthening time of uncertainty.