it's bad out there

 So, since I'm not an expert in health policy, I'm going to quote someone who is. I've talked about Andy Slavitt before. I follow him on Twitter and find his daily updates to be equal parts informative and terrifying. Yesterday's update was definitely the latter. I've combined his thread into one text block, but otherwise these are his words as he posted them.

COVID Update December 17: This is my worst thread. I hate writing it. But I have to write it. 

This is what happened yesterday in California. 61,000 new cases in a single day. 

But it’s not the cases. It’s the trajectory. 35,000 prior peak.

This is what happened in Minnesota. It’s not the decline to still historically high numbers. It’s that the governor was forced to majorly let up on restrictions yesterday at the first sign— a sure fire sign they are coming back.

You may ask “how can he be forced?” And you would be right, but the legislature has unique authority in Minnesota. They had threatened to remove the health commissioner & throw the state into disarray.

In New York, Andrew Cuomo had a press conference about COVID. It wasn’t the press conference itself where he warned about an overwhelmed system. He had done that last Spring. It was that this time he kept emphasizing the economy in his pleas to New Yorkers.

Yesterday one American died every 30 seconds. But no one has the tolerance to talk about it any longer. 

We’re forced to talk about the economy. Because enough people are apparently no long motivated by 3600 people dying. In a day.

Are we at the bad part yet? It’s getting worse. The people dying today got infected before Thanksgiving. Before people infected their families. And Thanksgiving was a sh-t show by all accounts.

So I have taken a peak at what the numbers suggest comes next. And that’s when I got even more horrified.

If things continue as they are— full hospitals, threats of strikes, PPE running out— and very soft, late, in enforced public health measures— what we are experiencing now will get much worse. 

Many Americans will absolutely as a badge of pride gather in large numbers for Christmas now. We know this for sure.

Because of: Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day & Thanksgiving. 

What does all this mean? 

It means that despite beginning vaccine rollouts, we may not have even have the deaths we will have by the time we get to spring.

It means we could have days in January where more than 6000 people die in a day from COVID.

Much of this is driven by non-compliant behavior. People who refuse. A president who doesn’t care. Essential workers we push out. People who live in poor working conditions. 

And Kristy Noem.

Even Ron DeSantis has been willing to look at CDC reports on outbreaks. But not Kristy Noem.

Even with governors who care, who are doing their best, they are facing such pressure from non-believers, legislators— all 100% followers of Trump— that they compromise on their compromises.

Conversation yesterday. “We know gyms should be closed. But we’re getting tremendous pushback that they should be open 50%. So I’m holding the line and opening at 25%.”

These showboat compromises are good for no one. 

I have sympathy for all of the people who have to make tough decisions.

But there are easy decisions too. Easy decisions are the ones where more people live if you make them. Easy decisions mean supporting the people losing their livelihoods so we can be safe. 

Right now there are people who are in 4 categories of compliance:

1-Taking very few risks

2-Taking more risks than they think

3-Forced to take risks because of job/living

4-Carefree

It would be one thing if the losses were confined to people in category 4. Expressing their liberty.

But category 3 (essential workers, ppl facing homelessness, multi-gen houses) suffer disproportionately based on Category 4 behavior. 

As prevalence grows more & more people in the first 2 categories— occasionally letting their guards down but trying very hard— are more & more at risk.

As are people who need the hospital for other reasons.

We are poised for science to bail us out before too long. But here, the same elements that plague us we will face again. People who choose not to be safe because they see numbers dropping. People who spread false rumors about the vaccines.

I write these painful perspectives because you have to be smart for everyone who isn’t. It’s that driver’s ed defensive driving principal we learned in high school. It won’t always be there. But it will for now.

In the meantime 2 things. First— ask every person you agree to spend time with this simple question: Have you been in contact w someone who tested positive for COVID?

Ask them. It may feel weird but ask them. Amazing how many people will answer yes when they think about it. 

There’s little we can do about people who don’t care. About a leader who feeds into it. History will be the judge. In the meantime, please, get there to see it & protect your family & neighbors. 

Let's keep fighting.

deadliest days

So this meme has been going around, and the information is as of December 7. Today is December 11, and we already need a new ranking.

Updated rankings:

1. Galveston Hurricane, 1900: 8,000

2. Battle of Antietam, 1862: 3,600

3. Two Days Ago, 12/9, COVID: 3,088

4. Yesterday, 12/10, COVID: 3,067

5. San Francisco Earthquake, 1906: 3,000

6. September 11, 2001: 2,977

7. Thursday, December 3, COVID: 2,861

8. Wednesday, 12/2, COVID: 2,762

9. Three Days Ago, 12/8, COVID: 2,655

10. Friday, 12/4, COVID: 2,439

So six of the 10 deadliest days (yeah, I added one; it bothered me to not stop on an even number) in U.S. history have been from COVID, and have happened in the past 10 days. And just FYI, I did fact-check these numbers. The COVID numbers I added come from the COVID Tracking Project.  

As if that's not terrifying enough, look at this tweet from Dr. Ashish Jah, who is the current dean of the Brown University School of Health and former director of the Harvard Global Health Institute:

Friends, we're in trouble here. Nearly 4,000 people will die on January 1. That's almost half the population of Plymouth ... in one day.

I've been thinking for a while now that it's only a matter of time before I start hearing every day about someone I know personally having COVID. Well, that time is here. Almost every day, I'm hearing that a friend, a relative, someone I went to high school with, or someone I otherwise know personally has been diagnosed with it. In our house, we're waiting for test results (again) for four of us.

And what comes next? Well, now it's probably only a matter of time before someone I know personally dies from it. At least two people I've met have died (we didn't really "know" each other, but this family rented a house from my family years ago, and two members have died in the past few weeks) already. 

And what's our government doing? Oh, right, fucking around asking the Supreme Court to invalidate 20 million votes in four states so Trump can stay in office. And blocking the Biden team from getting useful information that would allow them to actually help Americans. 

We're so screwed.

surprise, surprise

School called this afternoon. It turns out that Henry is a close contact of someone who tested positive for COVID-19, so he has to quarantine at home for the next two weeks. We knew it was only a matter of time, but still, this sucks. He says the close contact is the kid who sits next to him at lunch, and if they just found out her test results this afternoon, it stands to reason that she got tested sometime at the end of last week, which means Henry is four or five days into being exposed (and if he was exposed, he has definitely exposed the rest of us in the meantime). I'll take him to get tested later this week (or earlier, if he develops symptoms). He is not very happy right now.

Meanwhile, all of us are tired, and I don't just mean tired of the pandemic. Most days the boys go up and take naps when they get home from school. Some days I do too. Friday, Max came home from school, had a snack, and went up to take a nap ... and didn't wake up until Saturday morning. At which point he had a cup of coffee, talked to me for a few minutes, then decided he was still really tired and went back to sleep until early afternoon. Yesterday, I felt a little off after lunch, so I went up to lay down ... and ended up sleeping for FOUR hours. Henry also took a long nap yesterday and woke up feeling completely out of sorts. I'm not sure what's going on here, but it's definitely not the norm.

Having said that, some things are still pretty normal. Like Saturday afternoon when I sent the boys out to hang ornaments on the tree in the driveway, and they ended up having sword fights with the stakes we use to mark the driveway in the winter. See? Who could have predicted that would happen? (Me. I predicted it. Which is why I also had them put the stakes in the ground that afternoon.)

and here we are

It took roughly a decade to get to November 3 of this year, yet somehow the month (!!) that has followed has gone by in the blink of an eye. 

We spent Thanksgiving just like we've spent every other important day this year: just the five of us. Both of our families had gatherings, but we opted to stay home to keep everyone a little bit safer (not just us, but our families). Mike cooked a turkey, which he then promptly turned into delicious turkey avocado enchiladas. We did some projects around the house, and then had a family work day out in the barn Saturday where we made another tiny dent in shoveling out all the literal and figurative shit that's been out there since before we moved in. It's a little like finding an attic filled with stuff, and you don't know if it will be trash or treasure. Yeah, like that, except with manure and nesting critters.

Suddenly we're into December, and preparing for a Christmas season that will look and feel vastly different than the ones that came before. Will any Christmas ever be normal again? Who knows — but this one definitely won't.

If you're assuming that means we won't be seeing anyone for Christmas, you're right. There's just no way that it can be safe for everyone. And for us, that's ok. We're not religious, so to us Christmas is just an excuse to spend time with people we care about — and honestly, we would rather have that time when there aren't accompanying expectations and traditions and stresses. I've never really seen the point in a day of family obligation to celebrate for the sake of tradition; I would much rather see people spontaneously on a random fall evening than feel obligated to make noodles for 125 people. 

So here's the thing: If you're a person who usually buys gifts for us or for the boys, you should know that the gift we really want, the gift we've ALWAYS wanted, is time. Time to be together without the pressure of an official engagement. Time to form real connections throughout the year instead of getting together on prescribed days of obligatory celebration. We want your stories. We want to know you. And we want to know that you really know us.

I am fully aware, believe me, that time together is not something we're going to get physically this year. It's just not. And that's ok, because what I'm talking about isn't necessarily just a physical togetherness. I've been thinking a LOT about how to make the end of the year special, and how to connect with people when we're not going to physically connect. And for me, that means I'm reassessing the old traditions and thinking about what's really important. 

I probably won't see any of my aunts, uncles, or cousins this year. ANY of my family members who don't live in this house, really. So I had this idea that we should do a gingerbread house competition. Anyone who wants to participate will buy the same $10 gingerbread house kit from Target (I have five of them lined up in my office at this very minute), and we'll all decorate them and post pictures in our online family group. We'll have Aunt Rita be the judge, and she'll award prizes to winners in each age group. And what are the prizes, you ask? Well, I don't know yet, but I know they'll be special. I've asked my family to donate prizes that are either handmade or that mean something to us, like a memento. For my part, I'll offer up a copy of the photo memory book I made for Gramps for his 80th birthday, and also one of my great-grandpa's business cards from Jeffirs Motor Co. that has a handwritten note on the back: "next week's allowance." (Side note: Aunt Rita tells me that she and Grandma Ethel both got an allowance every week. Aunt Rita got $10 pocket money, and Grandma Ethel got grocery and spending money. So this note could refer to either of them.)

It's a silly competition, but I think it will be a lot of fun and will foster a sense of togetherness that will otherwise be missing this year. Plus I'm super excited about my top-secret gingerbread project. I really shouldn't even talk about it because I'm not sure I have the artistry to pull it off, but I'm damned well going to try.

Will I do a traditional card and letter this year? I dunno. Maybe not. It certainly isn't the most personal way to reach out to people. I might do something totally different. Let's be honest, this year has sucked, and there's not a whole lot to write about. BUT this year is also an opportunity to redefine what we want from our connections with people. And I'm all about that.

So I encourage you, friends, to keep this a little in mind as you go about your holiday shopping. If you want to buy a traditional gift, that's great! But also maybe think about ways you can personally connect with the person you're giving a gift to. Write a letter. Send a photo that means something to you, and enclose a little backstory that reveals something of yourself. Use Zoom, or FaceTime, or the phone and have a real conversation, just you and someone you care about. And then make that a habit. Drop something in the mail every month, just to delight whoever's on the other end. Christmas isn't the only time your people want to hear from you.