Clueless in Seattle

I sat quietly watching the primary election returns this evening (yes, Biden did well), realizing that more of the news was about the COVID-19 virus that's sweeping the world than about the elections.  It didn't make for a restful evening.

I have nothing new to add about a subject that has saturated this week's news reporting.  I'll just remind you that I live in the city that first warned Americans that COVID-19 was not just another problem that those silly Chinese had to put up with.  That the virus was attacking Americans, and killing some of them.  Especially, in the Seattle area, killing the helpless residents of a nursing home.

Even then, it was easy to feel -- even while sneering at Trump for making our feelings explicit -- that the subject was being over-dramatized, that it wasn't something that would affect most of us.  Certainly not those of us who felt in robust good health.

It's gradually dawned on me, however, that older age and underlying health issues are what lawyers would call disjunctive causes of serious problems from the virus, not conjunctive.  In other words, my age alone is sufficient to make me "a person at high risk of severe illness from COVID-19."  And some experts now believe that the mortality rate for persons in my age bracket may be as high as 18 percent.  (As opposed to 1 or 2 percent for the general population.

I wash my hands compulsively.  I avoid people, which as an introvert comes easily.  I get a full night's sleep.  The restaurants are all closed, so I think of new kinds of sandwiches.  I take Vitamin D pills.

Walking about outside seems to be safe, although they'd rather that I stayed in my house.  And so I walk about.  I enjoy the flowers and the views of distant mountains more vividly than in the past.  I like the way the clouds look as they drift across a blue sky.  I smile at kids and their parents.  And dogs and cats. 

I remain optimistic. Not because there's reason for optimism, but because that's how I'm genetically programmed. Optimistic despite the virus's high mortality rate.  And despite the even higher chance that I'll contract the virus, even if it doesn't kill me, sooner or later.  If not today, then next month, or even next year.  Because COVID-19 may wax and wane, but it's not going away, not unless a vaccine is developed.

Six months ago, I was looking forward with excitement to spring and my birthday celebration in Italy. Who could have guessed at that time how much the world would change before spring had arrived?