We live less than three miles from the epicenter of the COVID-19 outbreak in Washington. Responses of locals range from que sera, sera to full-tilt freakout. I’m trying to hew to a middle path. My primary concession to the outbreak is to drive to work rather than take the bus on days when I don’t swim. This was after I sat next to a virus vector last week who was doing everything in her power to infect other passengers.
Large events are being postponed, and schools are closed. The annual Comic Con, where Millennials dress up as their favorite cartoon characters, was postponed at the last minute. My congregation will not have Sunday services until April. There was no coffee at coffee hour today. My workplace has canceled all non-essential in-person meetings. Access to the hospital is limited. Only one visitor per patient.
Businesses are suffering from lack of customers. Asian restaurants are in real danger. Folks think that any Chinese or Korean person must automatically be infected or just traveled from an affected region. We’ve been to two Chinese restaurants in the last two weeks. Yesterday we went to one in our old neighborhood, and we were the only customers there for most of our stay.
In the event of stay at home orders, we’re in reasonably good shape. We’ve stocked up on frozen vegetables, pasta, and other staples. With luck, the crisis won’t escalate to the point where we have to be confined to quarters; however, this outbreak is surprising everyone with its pervasiveness.
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