With the pandemic over, let’s not forget the lessons we’ve learned
Is it safe to come out yet? On May 11 — 1,158 days after the world was plunged into COVID-19 darkness — Gov. J.B. Pritzker turned the lights back on.
I thought this would be an occasion that would be met by fanfare and parades. Instead, it’s been a long, slow crawl out of the trenches, and now that we’re finally at ground level again it’s hard to process what happened, or what will happen next.
None of us could have imagined what was to come back in March 2020, when the World Health Organization declared war on COVID-19 by announcing the world was facing a pandemic. Ever the optimist, I thought it would be over within a few weeks, so I began writing commentaries about it as fast as I could.
Always believing there is humor in everything, my mind was bursting with jokes I couldn’t get out quickly enough.
On food shortages: Tonight Grumpy offered to cook dinner. As ingredients are a little scarce, he’s using cabbage, sausage, shoe polish and talcum powder.
On the toilet paper shortage: Tune in next time when Martha Stewart will be showing us all how to crochet toilet paper out of grass clippings.
On store closures: I was devasted when my hairdresser called to postpone my appointment to touch up my roots yesterday. Luckily Grumpy found some old cans of paint in the basement.
On Gov. Pritzker’s daily news conferences: I am addicted. Not only do they make me appreciate his leadership, but by the end of all this I’ll be ready to obtain my certificate in American Sign Language.
It was all so funny, until it
wasn’t.
At the beginning, there was a lot of doubt. I heard of people who described COVID as less severe than the flu.
Did anyone know anyone who had actually had it? I certainly didn’t. Now I’m not sure I know anyone who hasn’t.
The numbers reported on the news each day were staggering. When the governor issued a nationwide disaster proclamation on March 9, 2020, there were 11 reported cases and no fatalities. By March 31 there were 5,994 cases with 99 deaths reported. At the beginning of this May, the WHO reported 765,222,932 global cases with 6,921,614 deaths around the world.
But even if you take humor out of the equation, we’re all going to be left with some pretty peculiar memories. In no particular order, here are mine:
Walking around downtown Naperville on a regular weekday and being the only person on the street.
Being almost the only car driving on Route 59.
Lining up outside Costco 6 feet behind the person in front of me. We looked more miserable than a line of Russians queuing for stale bread. When the assistant at the entrance let us in, she said to us all: “Cheer
up, it’s just Costco.”
Wearing a mask in Jewel while having to travel up and down the aisles one way only. I lived in fear of forgetting something because it would mean going back to the entrance again. Imagine that in Ikea!
Trying to open a thin plastic produce bag in Jewel while wearing a mask and surgical gloves. Learning you can actually blow the bag open if you lift it up under your mask.
Laughing at a friend who kept her Amazon deliveries in her garage overnight so the germs could somehow magically disintegrate before she touched them.
Being the only person in a movie theater.
Wondering if I were still teaching academic English to Chinese students, how on earth I would I have managed to teach them on Zoom, or if I’d even have any students left.
Making sure I never missed Gov. Pritzker’s daily news conference on TV, which was easy since we were mostly inside all the time anyway.
Communicating via Zoom. From friends and family to meetings and interviews, who’d have thought “Hollywood Squares” and “The Brady Bunch” were so forward-thinking all those years ago?
Entering a bank while wearing a mask over the bottom half of my face and feeling like a robber.
Feeling the world shrink around me while everyone I knew grew further and further apart.
Experiencing euphoria when I received my first COVID vaccination.
Being an ex-pat from England, I never thought there would come a time when I couldn’t see my family whenever I chose. I’m sure there will come a time when I will be too frail to travel, but it never occurred to me there wouldn’t be a plane available if I wanted a seat (at an exorbitant price, obviously).
For me personally, that was the worst thing about the pandemic. Thank goodness I could video chat with my children and grandchildren (and even friends around the corner). But the impact was real and it triggered mental health issues in the best of us.
Members of the human race thrive when they’re together. We’re not meant to be alone for weeks at a time, although I’ll admit the odd afternoon can be refreshing.
We learned what it took to get through. For many it was gratitude. As they say, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
We reached out to neighbors with decorative messages in our windows, and in my home country they stood on their doorsteps applauding the heroes of the National Health Service on a weekly basis. Now that everything’s back to normal, it’s ironic they’re having to resort to strike action to get a pay rise.
I’ve always been someone who believes in seizing the day, and now I’m trying to make up for those thousand-plus days when I couldn’t. I’m making the most of any opportunity and getting involved with my passion for the theater in any way I can.
Even during the pandemic I never sat at home unless it was a government mandate. But now that I can again mingle with hundreds of others at fundraising events and shows, I never take it for granted.
I love looking across the aisles as people stand to applaud those on stage because, for months, the highlight of my week was sitting on my sofa watching the weekly broadcast of an Andrew Lloyd Webber show on YouTube while eating a tub of ice cream.
I hope we don’t forget the lessons learned. Not only the only big things like the importance of good health care, but the little things we felt individually. My heart breaks for anyone who lost a loved one to this terrible virus, but I hope they realize those who lost the fight are just as heroic as those who fought to save their lives.
Every one of the millions who died has led us to this day. Through their sacrifice, we have learned how to perfect a vaccine in record time.
It’s taken longer than we would have liked, but hopefully we’ll be better prepared the next time because, sadly, that day will come.