March 2020: I started the month at a journalism conference in New Orleans. Maybe not the wisest call, given the virus killing thousands as it raced around the globe.
But I learned a lot. And I loved seeing my people. Which was good, because it’ll be a while before we see each other again.
A few days after I got home, all 1,000 of us from the conference were notified that one of our brethren had tested positive for the New Coronavirus, aka COVID19. Then another journalist from the conference tested positive. We were advised to quarantine ourselves and avoid too much contact with our families for two weeks.
Photo Illustration by KHZ. This is actually pre-quarantine, before coronavirus made its presence known in our area. Will had a whopping case of the flu and was hospitalized in February when he started having trouble breathing. He’s healthy now, whew.
Based on the conference news and increasing infections elsewhere, The New York Times’ entire Washington bureau was told to work from home for a few weeks while the office was deep-cleaned. Not long after, much of the NY headquarters was sent home with laptops, notepads and camera equipment. Everyone was working remotely. So were much of The Wall Street Journal and The Washington Post.
And just like that, the world stopped. Schools closed, governors warned people to stay home. Restaurants switched from dine-in to carry-out and delivery only. (Silver lining: when the kids asked about dinner and I answered, again, that we were ordering, suddenly I was supporting small businesses rather than being a lazy-ass mom.) Retail shops closed. Thousands of people were laid off from their jobs. The commuter rail line and highways were virtually empty at rush hour. Inexplicably, there was a run on toilet paper.
Will’s school sent all the kids home on March 12; his brother and sister started their two-week spring break the next day. My speaking engagement for March 13 was canceled. So were all of Alex’s in-person meetings, as was the spring-break trip the kids had been excited about.
As the epidemic spread throughout the US, we learned about flattening the curve and social distancing. We learned that Prince’s Raspberry Beret is just as good as happy birthday when you’re scrubbing up. Don’t touch your face. Keep your nails cut short. Maintain a distance of six feet from others. #StayHomeStaySafe
And for the love of God, wash your hands. Constantly.
On March 23, all the conference attendees were officially released from quarantine.
UPDATE: The self-isolation period has ended for the two #NICAR20 attendees who tested positive for COVID-19, as well as for IRE staff. Read about how those attendees are doing at https://t.co/Z7LT5z7mS2. pic.twitter.com/0rNzdp6I0h
— IRE and NICAR (@IRE_NICAR) March 23, 2020
Except… not really. By then, it was clear that no one was going back to normal life anytime soon. Business and commerce had essentially shut down, except for the most critical workers. (This includes liquor stores, per the governor’s order, so kudos to him for recognizing that we all have our limits.)
President Donald Trump briefly floated the idea of reopening the country by Easter. He reversed himself after everyone told him it would be a bad look in an election year for thousands of Americans to die in the pandemic just because he liked the symbolism of reopening the joint and packing the pews on Easter. The same symbolism sent public health folks into panic-induced bouts of dry heaving.
Today, to no one’s surprise, the president extended the “social distancing” rule to April 30.
So here we are, six years after The Big Adventure, all five of us quarantined at home for 2 1/2 weeks already. No playdates, hangouts, trips to the movies, escaping to the office, visiting Grandmom and Pop Pop in Florida. Callie’s fencing lessons have been online, as have Will’s ACT tutoring sessions. I ventured out to report for a story about a birthday party that turned into a “super-spreader event.” And not in a good way.
En garde!
It’s a blessing in disguise — we never would have taken this much time to stay home together and just live.
But quarantine has its suboptimal moments. All those doomsday people were right — a pandemic sucks for everyone. Most especially people who get sick, or whose loved ones die, healthcare workers and first responders trying to save lives without adequate equipment and staff.
We have it easy. We are lucky, and we know it.
I’ve got some time on my hands, so I’m keeping track of this whole new world. And so are a lot of other people.
Welcome to Crazy or Bust 2020: Quarantine Edition
This is what Grandmom’s birthday party looks like when everyone’s quarantining in Florida, North Carolina, Maryland and Connecticut. First familywide Zoom. Went about as well as you’d expect. Happy Birthday, Mom!